thanks for the prompt @confused-android ! oof, took me longer to write this than i thought (or actually it took me like an hour but i postponed it till my exams were almost over). first - the word “enthralled”? i vibe with it. second - this kinda turned into a vaguely brotzly piece with some autism acceptance on the side, hope that’s okay. third… hope you like this! so here goes
———————
The Case of the Stolen Flower Basket (as dubbed, unofficially, by Dirk) started out on a more relaxed note than most of their cases: in a flowershop, with a stolen basket. A basket, mind you, that was stolen in broad daylight from a closed room, under mysterious circumstances.
It also started with Dirk ending up in a flowershop, accidentally, while he was trying to find an ice-cream place. And it wasn’t even a case then, as much as Dirk’s brief but intense obsession with closed room mysteries, but I digress.
Point is, a basket was missing, a basket thief was at large, and the holistic crew of the holistic detective agency found themselves in a huge abandoned storing space, following up on a “lead”. Todd, Dirk and Farah walked the damp bleak corridors, opening any block that seemed suspicious. Most of them did, and most contained a truly bizarre collection of items.
One was filled up entirely with broken IKEA furniture. One was stuffed to the brim with an assortment of left shoes. And, perhaps most unsettling, one consisted of nothing but headless dolls of various shapes and sizes, along with some disfigured plush animals.
-What the hell was this place? – Todd wondered, prying open yet another door.
Behind it was an empty space, containing exactly one chair with exactly one empty jar perched on the edge of its seat.
-The warehouse of a profoundly odd collector. – Dirk proclaimed. – He… had an excess of money, and wanted to collect things, but the normal things people collect like stamps or candy wrappers were too boring for him, so he did this instead.
-Found anything important? – Farah’s voice echoed against the crumbling walls.
-Yes! – Dirk yelled back.
-No. – Todd corrected, then turned back to Dirk. – An eccentric collector then huh? – Evidently, he had decided to entertain Dirk’s guess. – What about this one then?
He pointed at the nearest door and immediately proceeded to kick it down. It was meant to be a slight push, but instead the door caved in completely, slipping off its hinges and crashing against the floor with a deafening metal rumble.
-Sorry! – Todd bit his lip.
He saw Dirk wince and then almost shrivel up at the sound, arms pulled suddenly towards his chest, as if trying to protect himself from the noise.
Noises. Dirk did not do well with them. And Todd knew that all too well.
-Sorry. – He repeated. – I didn’t mean to do… that.
-It’s fine. – Dirk mumbled, trying his best to shake off the feeling and get back into investigative mood. – What’s in it then?
They stepped over the dilapidated door and into the tight storage space. Inside it were a few pieces of old furniture, half a dozen sealed boxes, at least a whole heap of sawdust, and…
-Todd! – Dirk really did try to tone down the enthusiasm, but alas. – Look!
First, Todd noticed Dirk’s flapping arms, and the smile on his face, and felt his own lips stretch into a grin. Only then he turned to check what was in there, and realized that the wall of the storage space was lined up with various musical instruments. Guitars, mostly; electric, acoustic, even toy ones…
-It’s your thing! – Dirk beamed.
-Yeah. – Todd agreed. – It’s my thing.
He approached the wall and picked up one of the guitars.
-It’s expensive. – He declared, and checked the instrument for any signs of wear and tear. – And new. Damn. – He went slowly through the collection. – Well, these aren’t the very top of the chain, but they’re fancier than I used to have.
He took one of the electric guitars – a slick, bright red beauty – and held it gently in his hands. He hadn’t played guitar since he bashed his last one against the wall of the Ridgley building… that happened less than a year prior, and yet it seemed a lifetime away.
-Can we take some? – Dirk asked, then, not waiting for a reply, picked out one of the guitars at random. – They’re no-ones so it doesn’t count as stealing.
-I guess I could take one or two. – Todd agreed. – They’re as good as thrown out at this point. No use for them collecting dust in here.
-Where the hell are you two? – Farah’s voice chimed through the corridor.
-Over here! – Dirk shouted back.
-Ugh. – Todd muttered. – I have to pick now. Wait. Actually… - He looked at the guitar he had in his hands, then the one Dirk was still holding, and smiled with the corner of his mouth. – Those two are good. Let’s go.
-Guys. – Farah nearly avoided a collision with the broken door as she entered the storage space. – You should see this. Now. – She paused. – I think I found a skeleton.
The guitars were then stashed in the corner, and waited patiently for their new owner to crawl on all fours into a basement, poke some human bones with a stick, and emerge – dusty, exhausted, and deeply confused.
*
The evening was slow and peaceful. While Farah was busy making phone calls and trying to arrange for someone to examine, discretely and unofficially, a mysterious unidentified skeleton, Todd and Dirk stayed in Todd’s apartment. Or, rather, at the apartment that used to be Todd’s. He didn’t remember the last time he had a dinner there, and besides, Dirk spent more nights than not in the guest bedroom, so it was really their apartment.
-Do you have any ideas about how the basket connects to the skeleton yet? – Todd asked, placing two cups of tea on the table.
He didn’t have to ask Dirk what he wanted; he knew his (rather narrow) range of food and drink preferences by heart.
-Not a clue. – Dirk admitted, and raised his gaze to the ceiling, staring attentively at some smudge. – I think we should go to Claire’s house.
-Why the owner’s house? – Todd asked.
-Feels relevant. – Dirk shrugged, eyes still focused on the smudge. – Oh. – He turned in his seat suddenly. – The guitars! Can you play for me?
Todd sighed. He anticipated this happening.
-Well, - he said, - I can’t play the electric one cause you need equipment for it and we didn’t steal any, and I haven’t played an acoustic guitar in like two years, but…
-I don’t care if it’s not your best or some equally stupid excuse. – Dirk interrupted him. – You know I’ll be impressed no matter what.
Todd laughed shortly, and nodded. It was true – Dirk was impressed and excited by seemingly everything, from the fluffy blanket assortment at Walmart (he had to touch every. single. one.) to the Sacred Wisdom shared with him by Todd that the number on the package of pasta tells you how long it will take to cook it. Dirk was also somehow oblivious to his own talents, insisting that connecting eleven entirely unrelated pieces of information into a complete narrative was “simple” and “obvious”.
-Fine. – Todd caved in, and got up to fetch the acoustic guitar. – But I probably won’t know the cords of the songs you like.
Considering that Dirk mostly listened to obscure European rock music, 80s pop, and Disney soundtracks, it was hardly surprising.
-Not tuned at all, probably. – Todd, the guitar now in hands, returned to his seat and gave the strings a test stroke. – Yep. – He nodded. – Gimme a few minutes.
He tuned the guitar as best as he could, and tapped his fingers on the table, trying to decide what to play. Dirk had watched him with curiosity and was now sipping his tea, waiting for the music to start. Todd paused, took a deep breath in, and began to play the first song that he was sure he remembered – “Behind Blue Eyes”.
The music flowed; Todd focused on the movement of his fingers, on the vibration of the string, and the metal at his fingertips. He sang the words softly, almost as an afterthought. He had forgotten how good it felt to make music happen. The song was in the air, brought to life by the motion of his hands, and the night was young, and he was lost in the moment. He skipped the electric guitar solo and went straight to the final reprise of the chorus.
Then the music stopped, and silence fell on his shoulders. He kept quiet, not saying anything, waiting for Dirk to react. That is when Todd realized that Dirk wasn’t talking – and Dirk was always talking. He talked over movies, and news on the TV, and shop assistants and, on one memorable occasion, over a talking parrot. It’s not that he was rude - it’s just that his head was so full of words, constantly, that they had to be let out.
But Dirk wasn’t talking now. Now he simply sat in his place, eyes transfixed on Todd’s hands, blinking.
-Are you okay? – Todd asked.
There was a pause.
-Mmm? – Dirk blinked faster and looked up, meeting Todd’s gaze, startled slightly, as if waking up from a pleasant dream. – Yes. Yes of course I’m okay.
-You kinda zoned out a little bit.
-I did?
-Yeah.
-You play really good music. – Dirk smiled softly.
-Thanks. – Todd smiled back.
-It’s nice to not be… attacked by sound for a change. – Dirk added. – Can you… keep, playing, please?
-Sure. – Todd replied. -I mean, I don’t remember that many songs, and…
He remembered enough songs for a whole mini-at-home concert.
*
It doesn’t end there.
Together, they spend many an evening consumed by music, music brought to life by Todd, for Dirk, specifically for Dirk, and for him only. Todd plays everything – every song he has ever loved, acoustic versions of Mexican Funeral pieces, approximate renditions of whatever is on the radio these days…
Dirk makes requests. Todd googles guitar tabs and practices while Dirk is still asleep, in the ungodly early hours of the morning, sitting on the windowsill of the apartment block while people leave for first shifts at work. He has performed in front of huge crowds, and music journalists, and many girls (and guys…) he was trying to impress – but nothing has ever felt as personal, crucial, tender, as playing for Dirk.
The skeleton is identified, and the stolen basket is discovered. The convoluted twists and turns of the story, which involves a near-extinct flower, a 77-year-old Russian spy and an actual African prince, come to their natural close. The excitement and danger are over, if only for a brief respite, and peace is restored. A new case will arrive soon enough… but until then, they have their tiny apartment, and Todd has his guitars, and music lingers in the air, and Dirk is enthralled with the music, still and speechless in his seat.
They look at each other, and they understand each other precisely, and, for once in his life, Dirk has no words, and needs no words, and wants nothing else but to listen. God knows, his life is never safe or simple, but now Todd is here, and the world is really not that bad, and he is happy.
The Earth continues to spin. New bizarre, perplexing and astonishing things will happen. Songs will be played, and words will be said in time. Maybe, in part at least, because someone ran, and never looked back, and left behind all their belongings, even their very expensive guitars…
Sometimes – most of the times – the Universe wants them to help it. But, on this occasion, it is gracious enough to help them in return.
Specific mostly to Dirk himself because I Love That Man.
(a small nsfw part)
-Dirk loves pop music. Doesn’t really matter what time period. All pop is good. Nice and upbeat. Makes him a blast to do karaoke with.
-Speaking of karaoke, he absolutely loves singing. All the time. Doesn’t have a bad voice at all, but pretty average. Farah gave him headphones because sometimes it is hard to work with him blasting music, but that doesn’t seem to change much. He still dances and sings along, even in public. The funniest is when he raps because he is far too white and British for that. It cracks everyone up, especially Amanda. He can’t figure out why it’s that funny though.
-Dirk likes sex. Fun (even if he’s totally not good at it all). But also, something he could totally live without and be perfectly fine. He’s definitely more into love making, soft, gentle, passionate sex. But also has a lot of trust issues. Todd takes like 1,000,000 precautions to make sure Dirk is always okay. Dirk appreciates it, but Todd always worries he’ll fuck something up.
-His collections of jackets that are mostly the same but different colors comes from sensory and comfort. They are the Best Jackets and make him feel safe. He isn’t sure what he would do without them. He is convinced part of his identity is connected to the jackets and who would Dirk Gently be without them?
-Dirk is actually the stimmiest ever. All the time. A lot of that was probably repressed because of Blackwing, but now its actually constant. Todd thinks its the cutest thing when he stims during or after a kiss. Amanda buys him a collection of stim toys for his birthday and he stuffs his jacket pockets with them for every situation
-Boy does that man have a sweet tooth. You can’t let him go shopping for groceries alone - Todd learned the hard way. Dirk came back with 3 boxes of Fruit Loops, 2 packs of double stuffed Oreos, 5 quarts of assorted ice cream flavors, and a bag of assorted mini candy bars. How did he survive on his own?
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
What Friends Do by apidologist
A series of fragments detailing Dirk and Todd's return to normalcy - except, for Dirk and Todd, that never existed, so things develop in ways that are unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.
if ur still taking prompts would u be able to do autistic!dirk brotzly? like with dirk having very specific routines or a special interest, hopefully very fluffy!! 🙈 thank you soso much 💕
I recieved this a while ago but I didn’t want to answer until I finished the fic, so without further ado, ladies and gents, 1300 words about a struggling Dirk, an annoyed Todd, and some fluff at the end. Also, a container of cocoa mix that has mysteriously vanished.
I hope I represented the condition accurately & I hope it’s what you envisioned although probably not because I really spun it around & that you enjoy!!
Relies more on outright verbal confirmation than he does on nonverbal hints - he 100% does not understand why Todd has come back for him at the end.
Again - difficulty reading silent hints/body language, especially concerning emotion.
Sensory difficulties. Okay, and this is kind of a shot in the dark - but underwear choice. Lots of autistic people I know wear vests made of nice fabric under their normal clothes so that they can wear clothes that look nice but are sensory hell without the fabric of those clothes being in direct contact with their skin.
More sensory things - squishy things are the best... even if that squishy thing is a squishy sad friend.
Hi, I saw your Autistic Dirk posts (they are great), and I have a question. I can see Dirk being autistic, but a lot of his behavioral traits could be explained from his upbringing. We know he's a orphan, and spent his teen years at Blackwing. Couldn't this be the reason, for the way he acts, and not autism? Or is his autism caused by the childhood Dirk has experienced? Sry, if this is a dumb question, but I don't know much about autism. Thank you :)
Don’t worry about not being sure about something - you asked politely and that’s what matters! There are no dumb questions okay?
Okay so first off - autism is not caused by anything. Autism is a developmental disorder which means that a person is born with it, and will never get rid of it. Autism is very different to mental illnesses such as depression/anxiety, because with a mental illness there is a person ‘under’ the illness, and the can recover, get rid of it, and be the ‘true/real’ them again. The mental illness is not part of them, it is just something that attacks the ‘base’ personality of the person, but once removed they go back to “””normal”””. With autism though there is no ‘base’ personality underneath. The person is the autism and the autism is the person.
So now we’ve cleared that up, second point - you are right. A lot of things Dirk does could be explained as results of his treatment by Blackwing.
The reason I think Dirk is autistic rather than just acting ‘differently’ as a result of his upbringing is that his very ‘base’ behaviour feels autistic to me, not just his outward actions.
For example -
One point I made was how touching people seems unnatural for him, even though he tries.
But the thing is, if this behaviour was purely a result of Blackwing, I can see him being really hesitant about touch (for example comforting Farah by rubbing her shoulder, and then quickly withdrawing not sure if it was welcome), however it seems to be less of that and more of he both physically does not know what to do with his hand. He honestly does not know much pressure to use or where his hand is supposed to go or how long to keep it there. One of the key autism symptoms is that unspoken rules of life such as how much pressure to use when putting your hand on someones shoulder or how long you’re allowed to leave it there before things get weird do not come naturally. And this is exactly the behaviour that Dirk is demonstrating.
And also - if his hesitancy was just a result of blackwing, i don’t think he would have prodded her after. He would have felt uncomfortable and just backed off.
Example 2 -
So I know we aren’t 100% sure whats up with Blackwing, but again I think if Dirks behaviour was purely a reaction to some form of childhood trauma, he would be a lot more reserved in his actions you know? No sudden movements, learned not to draw too much attention to himself - that sort of thing. Except if he was autistic - even if he was some form of traumatised to go along with that - he wouldn’t be able to help it. ‘Stimming’ is a term used in the autistic community to refer to physical actions, that are often an uncontrollable response to emotions. For example when I’m excited I bounce up and down like Dirk is doing here! If im is a situation where it would really be frowned upon I can force myself to just bounce slightly on my heels and tense the muscles in my head to give my brain the illusion that I’m bouncing, but I can’t stop it completely. One of the most common stims in the autistic community is hand flapping.
Honestly, I could go on and analyse every bullet point in those posts, but I don’t want to make this 50 paragraphs long. - But seriously if there are any specific points I made that you were questioning or want to know more about, please message me I will be more than happy to answer for you!
But yeah, overall I think that of course Blackwing and his childhood has affected his behaviour. I also know how unlikely it is that Dirk was ever intended to be autistic so all of this ‘evidence’ is probably one big compilation of wishful thinking. And if anyone does disagree, of course you are entitled to your opinion, and no-one should feel guilty about ‘autistic erasure’ or anything like that, because if it’s not explicitly cannon, it’s not erasure. Just for me personally, I like to imagine that such a wonderful positive human is actually a little bit like me :)
(and if you want to know more from other sources, I’d avoid any official psychology/medical websites at all costs, and just take a good long scroll down the ActuallyAutistic tag on tumblr)
