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Chapter: Looking for Odessa
The morning light spilled into the room as Billie woke up, wrapped in soft sheets and the scent of lavender still lingering from the night before. Odessa had stayed the night again—something that had slowly become a quiet routine they both cherished. Billie rolled over, expecting to see her curled up next to her, but the bed was empty. A small frown formed on Billie’s lips.
She sat up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. The house was still, a little too still. She tapped at her AAC device on the bedside table and pressed the button that read:
> “Odessa?”
No answer.
Billie’s fingers started to twitch.
She swung her legs over the bed, slipping on her warm socks and hoodie, and padded into the hallway. “Tch—tick! Uh—tick! Hng—tick!” Her tics had already started. Her body jerked slightly every few steps, her head snapping to the side, one arm flinching up with every few strides. But she kept going.
She checked the bathroom. Empty. The kitchen. Empty.
Each silent room made her heart race a little faster.
> “Odessa? Odessa?!”
The panic crept in. Her chest tightened. Her vocal tics grew louder and more frequent.
> “Ah! Hah! Go away! Shut up! Hhh—tick!”
She began pacing, her hands flapping hard against her chest, her eyes darting from room to room. Her breath hitched, and she let out a small distressed hum.
Then, unable to stop it—Billie dropped to her knees in the hallway, her body rocking, hands clawing at her sleeves.
A full tic attack hit.
Her arms flailed—one fist thumping her shoulder rhythmically, her head jerking back again and again, a loud “Uhn! Uhn! Stop it! Ow!” spilling from her lips every few seconds.
Maggie rushed out of her room the moment she heard the cries.
“Oh baby—Billie—shh, shh, I’m here. Odessa just went out to get coffee and your meds, she’ll be back soon, okay?”
But Billie couldn’t hear her.
The tics were too loud, her thoughts too tangled, her body overwhelmed by the electric storm of movement and sound. She banged her elbow against the wall, curled in on herself. Her breathing was short, rapid.
Maggie grabbed Billie’s weighted blanket and carefully draped it over her. She sat nearby—not touching—just softly rocking with her daughter’s rhythm, matching it to ground her.
Then the door clicked.
“Billie?” Odessa’s voice.
Instantly, Billie’s head snapped up. Tears streaked her cheeks, her body still jerking involuntarily, but she held her arms out.
Odessa rushed over and sat in front of her, signing quickly: I’m here, I’m sorry, I’m here now. I just went out for a second. You’re safe.
Billie collapsed into her, arms trembling. Her tics slowed gradually, the presence of Odessa anchoring her like nothing else could.
Odessa held her for a long time, brushing back her hair, signing soft affirmations over and over: I love you. You’re safe. You’re okay. I’m so proud of you.
Later, Billie tapped out on her AAC:
> “I thought you were gone.”
Odessa signed back: Never. I would never leave you.
They sat there on the hallway floor, wrapped in a blanket and each other, as Billie’s world slowly stitched itself back together.
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Chapter: After the Storm
The morning after her tic attack, Billie stirred beneath her weighted blanket, muscles still aching faintly from the physical intensity of the day before. Light crept through the curtains in soft stripes, and she could already hear the clink of breakfast being made in the kitchen. She didn't want to move. Her body was tired, her mind even more so.
Odessa quietly stepped into the room holding a warm mug of oat milk with cinnamon, Billie’s favorite. She sat beside her, kissing the top of her head gently. Therapy is today. We can take it slow. I’ll be with you, Odessa signed with a small smile.
Billie nodded sleepily, using her hands to sign back: I still feel sore.
Odessa kissed her knuckles and helped her sit up, wrapping her arms around her from behind in a silent hug.
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At the therapy office, Billie sat curled on the couch beside Odessa, the lights low and calming. Her therapist, Naomi, greeted them softly, making sure Billie’s weighted lap pad and fidget items were nearby.
Billie signed slowly, her hands shaking a little: I got really scared yesterday. When Odessa wasn’t there. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t stop it.
Naomi nodded with gentle understanding. “It makes sense, Billie. Your routine was interrupted, and you didn’t have your usual grounding person nearby. It felt like everything fell apart.”
Billie tapped her AAC to continue:
> “My tics got loud. I hurt. I thought I was alone. I didn’t like it.”
Naomi responded softly, “You weren’t alone, even though it felt that way. But what you felt was real and valid. Can we work on a small plan together? Something that helps when that panic rises again.”
Billie nodded, and she and Naomi began to craft a coping strategy: cue cards with Odessa’s picture and calming phrases, soft voice recordings, and a special stim kit to carry at all times.
They also practiced a grounding exercise Billie could start before tics overwhelmed her: rubbing textures, pressing her fingers in sequence, controlled breathings like blowing up a balloon with her hands. Odessa helped by signing everything at Billie’s pace.
Before leaving, Naomi turned to her gently. “And Billie, you’re doing so well learning how to say things with your voice. Would you like to try one today?”
Billie paused, then, with Odessa squeezing her hand, she whispered:
“…Safe.”
Naomi beamed. Odessa gasped softly and kissed her cheek, her eyes shining.
Billie flapped her hands rapidly, her knees bouncing with excitement. Safe! Safe! I said it!
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When they returned home, Odessa set up a cozy “reset day” for them. The couch was made into a nest of blankets, their favorite soft movies queued up, calming lights on. Billie wore her comfy hoodie and stimmed with her textured blanket while Odessa braided her hair slowly, something that always soothed her.
They shared snacks, signed silly jokes, and rested. Billie giggled through her hand stims during a cozy scene in their favorite movie and leaned her head on Odessa’s shoulder.
At dinner, Billie’s family joined them with a warm casserole and quiet praise for her bravery at therapy. Billie lit up when her mom signed, You made it through. We’re so proud of you.
That night, Odessa helped her into the bath again, wrapping her in towels after and helping her get cozy in her softest pajamas.
Billie signed one last thing before curling into Odessa’s chest that night: Today felt like healing.
And it truly did.
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A/N sorry guys just a short one. A lot has happened
YOU ARE READING
mute
Fanfictionbillie has severe autism and is mute. as she grows old she meets a friend. Billie is always bullied in school for being mute and having Tourette's.
