[AN: *stimming, not stinking. Three Bronx Cheers for autocorrect]

Angus McDonald, fresh adoptee of the Fangbattles, skipped into his new class as if he was walking on air. When he walked out, it was under a metaphorical raincloud and the hunch-shouldered attitude of someone who would much rather be condemned to death than go back into that one room again.

Of course the twins noticed in a cold second, homing in on easy tells like a sudden stillness and quiet in a formerly exuberant boy. Gone was the happy, infodumping chatterbox and in his place was a sullen doppelganger. A ghost that the family had thought they banished with love and encouragement.

Koko and Lulu took him in between them and made an Angus Sandwich with each twin as half of the ‘bun’. They tried purring for him. They tried gently twining the curls of his hair. They tried Being With him. They even tried getting him to blow on dandelion puffs or thistle seeds.

It was no use. Angus had become a block.

It was worse than when he’d been a ward of the orphanage. He’d retreated into himself, there, too… but they expected a modicum of interaction. This time, he’d shut off from even the safest and friendliest interactions.

Koko, the more sensitive of the twins, had tears spilling from his eyes. Fat, thick, plentiful ones that wouldn’t stop. Lulu twirled a lock of her hair and recited the silly name rhyme that used to make him giggle.

“Ango McDango dance the fandango, eat up a mango and tango with me…” she singsonged. “Your coat we can hango up over the frango, this song we have sango for you and for we…”

Not even the vaguest twitch of a smile. This was bad.

They pulled their coats up over their heads and made a sort of coat tent that shut out a lot of light and petted his hands and whispered validation into his tiny, cute, round humanman ears.

“We love you,” and, “It’s going to be okay,” and, “We want to help,” and, when it all got too frightening, “Please come back to us?”

Angus didn’t pet their hands, or say, “I’m okay,” even when he wasn’t. He just sat there and breathed and stared at nothing. Occasionally, he would blink, but he otherwise showed no further signs of coming back out.

Not even 'painting’ his skin with the tips of their braids would lure him back into the world.

Someone tapped Koko on his shoulder. He emerged from their tent and so did Lulu. They were both in tears and beside themselves with worry. It was Miss Mak'arune. Thee nicest, friendliest teacher in the entire world.

“Did you miss the bell? It’s time to go into class.”

Angus moved. He picked up his hands from his knees and interlaced his fingers and squeezed his hands together so hard that the skin went white.

Koko put it together in two seconds. “Did you tell our Angus to have Quiet Hands?”

Lulu had her hands over her mouth. It was like finding out that the Erastide Hare ate unwary children instead of hiding colourful eggs for the spring festival. Or that Father Candles stole the toys of poor children to gift them to the rich. It just could not be possible. “You didn’t,” Lulu felt like bursting into tears and running all the way home. “Please tell me you didn’t. I thought you were nice…”

Miss Mak'arune crouched down so she was on their eye-line. “It’s policy. Noisy hands distract the other students and we have to keep everything in line so everyone can learn. It’s a simple process and it doesn’t hurt…”

Koko was on his feet in instants. “WHY DON'CHA CUT OUT HIS TONGUE 'CAUSE HE TALKS TOO MUCH?” he screamed. “IT’S THE SAME THING!” Then he scooped up Ango into his arms and ran and ran and ran. He knew Lulu would be close behind. That was the way the world worked.

They only got a mile away from the school gate before their legs flagged and the stress of everything overwhelmed them. Lulu found a pocket in the briars where they could hide and at least plot their next move or, like Koko did, just kind of fold up and cry about everything bad that had just happened.

Lulu tried to plot their next move with Koko going to pieces and Angus just… not present. They clearly couldn’t go back to school. Not with a Quiet Hands policy. They couldn’t go home. Principal Davenport would have called their Moms by now. Which meant that they couldn’t go home.

Koko cried himself out and sighed. “Well, it was a nice home while it lasted,” he said. He must have reached the same conclusion far, far sooner than Lulu had. He always went with the worst alternative first, as it saved time. “Where next? Phandalin? Halverdale? North Haverbrook?”

“Home would be nice,” said Mama Carey. Of course she’d found them. She was a Rogue, and knew every trick. Including, as evident, how to sneak up on all of them and listen in to what there was of the conversation. “But I get you’re upset. I’m listening if you wanna talk.”

Angus was still a block, and the twins babbled out everything they knew. It was just as bad as the first days, Mama. Remember when he shut down? Like a whole week and he was just… he was block Angus. Not doing nothing, you remember? It’s happening again 'cause of how they made him do Quiet Hands. It’s evil, Mama. That school is straight up evil.

Lightning briefly crackled behind her teeth. Mama Carey took ten deep breaths and walked off to make a few Stone calls.

“Mama’s here,” Lulu tried. “She’ll keep you safe like last time. Remember? Mama and Mom kept you outta the bad place.”

Angus’ eyes moved, very briefly. He was hiding deep inside, and that was his first peek back into the outside.

Mama came back. She said, “Okay. We’re all meeting up with the Principal, Miss Mak'arune, and Mom, back at the school. We’re going to sort this out for the good of all. I won’t let you get hurt again, okay?”

*

Angus rocked gently in his seat. Lulu and Koko were on either side of him and Mom and Mama were on either side of them, helping him feel safe. He still clutched at his elbows when Miss Mak'arune entered the room and whimpered a little. The twins closed up around him and Koko growled a little.

Principal Davenport sat on a desk and tented his fingers. “Let’s talk,” he said. “I understand that young Mr McDonald has had a significant upset in regards to… quiet hands…”

“It’s despicable,” said Mom Killian. “It’s teaching autistic kids that they can’t express themselves. It’s the worst of oppression.”

“We’re gonna need a week of Intensive Interaction just to get him back to normal,” said Mama.

“Intensive…?” Miss Mak'arune echoed. “I’ve never heard of anything else other than ABA… it came highly recommended in all the papers…”

“Yeah, highly recommended by all those who hate autistic kids,” said Lulu. “It’s people who believe that kids like Angus are burdens who think that that sort of stuff is actually good.”

“Look what it did to him,” said Koko. “He’s blocking the world. He’s scared to say or do anything with anyone or anything.”

“They used to do something similar when he was in the orphanage,” said Mama. “It was horrible. Horrible.”

Miss Mak'arune had gone red. Her eyes were overflowing. “Ohmygoodness, ohmygoodness,” she whimpered. “I had no idea, I’m so sorry. Angus, sweetie, I never meant any harm… I swear. I thought I was doing good. I know I was wrong. Sir. We have to learn better ways. Now.”

Principal Davenport was a man of few words. He listened to all of this with tented fingers and an intense expression. He finally said, “I agree. Let’s listen to the people who know the most about this issue. All of them.”

*

It took a month. One week for Angus to come back into being himself. Three weeks for the moms to gather some experts, books, and evidence, and create a special presentation for the teaching staff at Miller’s.

Angus was a willing participant in some of the Interaction methods. Education about what Stimming was, and meant, and how it was a means of expression for some. How to read an Autistic kid, when they didn’t always show the best of emotions or show them consistently with neurotypical means of reading.

The most important lesson, the best lesson, was that an Autistic kid didn’t have to be a burden, if one was willing to take a journey into their world.

[TAZ Prompts Remaining: 4]

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