bee buzzing breath


The elevator spluttered and came to a screeching stop, and, from what you could tell, just so happened to stop in between floors.

Your eyes snapped open and you looked around frantically.  “O-oh gosh, no!  No!  This can’t be happening!  N-not now!"  You pushed on the doors of the elevator in a panic before backing up against the metallic wall.

”(Y/n)?  What’s wrong?“ Castiel asked, his head tilting in confusion.

You began to hyperventilate slightly as your body slid down the side of the elevator until you were sitting.  You clamped your hands on your head and pulled your knees to your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible.  You rocked back on forth with tears in your eyes.

”(Y/n)?  (Y/n), I need you to tell me what’s wrong.“  Castiel moved to squat in front of you, one of his hands resting on your knee.

You looked up at him with panic-filled eyes.  "I-I have c-claustrophobia."  Castiel was silent, still confused.  "I’m a-afraid of s-small, c-confined spaces…like e-elevators… And-and now we’re s-stuck in h-here f-for who knows how l-long!”

Castiel finally understood. He shifted so that he was sitting next to you, but made sure there was enough space. If only he still had his grace, he would be able to get you out of there. Sadly that wasn’t the case, so he had to try a different approach to help you calm down.

“I need you to calm down, so you have to listen to me, okay?” he asked as he set his hand on your shoulder. You nodded shakily. “All right. I want you to close your eyes. Can you do that for me?”

You closed your eyes and waited for further instruction.

“Now, imagine a big vast field with green grass and (f/f) growing everywhere. Imagine you and me sitting on a (f/c) blanket with a picnic basket, eating sandwiches and (favorite treats). It’s a clear, sunny day and the birds are chirping and bees are buzzing…”

Your breathing slowly calmed as Castiel kept talking, but you never opened your eyes. You listened to him as he continued to talk to you until the elevator began to move again, which was a good ten minutes later.

Once out of the elevator, you shakily walked beside Castiel. You turned to him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Cas…”

Castiel felt his cheeks heat up, but he smiled and replied, “No problem, (Y/n).”

Fic: "In Case You're Ready"

Ms. Hudson arrived at the Brownstone for the weekly cleaning expecting to be alone. Joan had texted her the night prior that Sherlock would be busy with case research, which both women knew was code for Sherlock being out and about.

So it was to her surprise to see Sherlock sleeping at the desk in the middle of the afternoon.

Ms. Hudson thought about taking a picture to send to Joan, but decided not to. Blackmail wasn’t her style. Even the lighthearted kind.

She took the blanket from the couch and put it on Sherlock’s shoulders. Ms. Hudson noticed that Sherlock’s laptop was still on, and that the battery was starting to get low. The charger must be in his room, she thought, when she couldn’t find it.

Just as she was about to shut down his computer, Ms. Hudson glanced at the subject of the forum that showed on the screen:

I think I might be autistic

The thread only had two comments, and the last comment was posted not even an hour prior.

“It’s been something I’ve been asking myself for a long time, to be honest. In my youth, specialists tried to stick a diagnostic label in order to demonise me. Now, after years of avoiding it and denying any association, I’m starting to see that a diagnosis might actually bring some clarity. I wish I had some advice but unfortunately I don’t.”

While Ms. Hudson wasn’t 100% sure if the second commenter was Sherlock, she knew it might be a possibility based on the entry, and from what she knew about him.

Ms. Hudson turned off the laptop, and quietly began cleaning the Brownstone.

A week later, Ms. Hudson found the Brownstone to be completely empty when she arrived. After finishing with her duties, she brought out a few contents from her purse and set them on the kitchen table: an infinite rainbow magnet, and a note that said, “In case you’re ready”. She left, hoping that her message of support would be clear to Sherlock. She knew from firsthand experience (though not in this particular situation) how scary it can be to come into an identity.

Sherlock came home later in the evening. He spotted the letter and read it. And re-read it. Sherlock was confused and had a sinking feeling that he couldn’t quite explain. He looked at his laptop. Then back to the letter. Sherlock took out his phone and searched what the infinite rainbow symbol meant.

The first was in regards to the mathematical definition of infinity, that he expected.

The second jumped out at him: neurodiversity. Common association with autistic pride.

Sherlock felt his chest start to compress. He took a minute of breathing in and out slowly. The last thing Sherlock needed was a panic attack; he had a case he needed to get back to. He closed his eyes. Sherlock thought of the bees, the sounds of the bees buzzing. Breathe in. Breathe out. The breaths took away the level of distress bit by bit, and soon his chest felt less tight. Sherlock picked up the letter. He didn’t want to tear it up, but seeing those words wasn’t helping, so he folded it up and placed it in his pocket.

That’s when Joan walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, what’s that,” she asked, pointing down at the magnet.

“It’s-the-mathematical-sign-for-infinity-Ms.-Hudson-gave-it-to-me-said-she-saw-it-and-thought-of-me,” Sherlock said in one breath, faster than what he intended.

“Aw, how sweet of her! Are you,” Joan was about to ask if he was okay, but saw that he seemed to be in a not good state.

Joan continued, “I wanted to go over something in my case that I’ve been stuck on. It involves sand, which I’m still not as in tune into yet. Is now a good time to go through it with you?”

“Yes! I’ll make us some tea. You bring down your files.”

Later that evening, Sherlock placed the magnet on the fridge. That, to him, was a step. Was he Autistic? Sherlock wasn’t sure; he still needed to do more research. But it was something. If nothing else, he had the backup explanation behind the magnet’s existence, mathematics.