Beautiful Minds (Detroit: Become Human x Autistic!Reader)

Prologue

She was five-years-old when she met him.

She didn't really understand what her parents were doing at the time either, why they wanted her to come with them to the store. Did they forget how much she hated that place? The air there always smelled too strongly of cleaning products, various people who either wore too much perfume or didn't bathe for days, and other scents she didn't want to identify. Not only that, but going to the store would mean being blinded by the lights above, hearing the endless chatter of people, and even coming into close proximity with those very people.

And yet, here she was, her headphones protecting her ears from all unwanted sound, and her weighted blanket around her body to keep her grounded. Her small hands clung to the fabric, and she felt her head and nose being assaulted by the people and the too clean smell of the room. She felt her throat constrict various times, and she pulled the weighted blanket towards her nose.

The soft cotton was a wonderful distraction.

Her parents continued to lead her even further into the store, greeting anyone who got close to them, all while different kinds of people stood on podiums like they were models. Of course, they didn't look like they were modeling, as they were not wearing fancy clothes (though their clothes appeared blindingly clean and freshly pressed), not to mention they were standing there like they were nothing but statues.

She blinked at them, suddenly confused.

"Mommy?" she quietly asked.

Her mother turned to her. "Yes (Y/N)?"

"Why are there people on those pillars?"

Her mother didn't answer at first, though she did look at her father before looking back to her. "They are androids (Y/N)," she clarified. "They are up for display so people can buy them."

"But why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do they need to be bought? Aren't they people too?"

The silence between her parents lasted even longer now, and when she got a reply, it was from her father, and he did not sound happy. "They are not people (Y/N)," he said. "They are machines, pure and simple."

"But—"

"Enough, we are here."

(Y/N) dug her hands into her weighted blanket when a strange man came up to them. "Hello folks," he greeted with a smile. "Is there anything I can help you with today?"

"Yes," said her father. "We're here to buy an android."

The man clapped his hands. "Wonderful!" His voice was painfully cheery, and suddenly (Y/N) wondered how no one else was noticing how fake it sounded. "So what kind are you looking for in particular?"

"We need an android that specializes with special needs children," said her mother.

The man typed something on his pad before gesturing with his hand. "And what does your child need help in?"

"She's autistic," her mother continued.

The man typed something again. "Alright, do you want the android to be a male or female?"

"It doesn't matter," said her father. "They're all the same. It won't matter."

"Of course." The man then put down his pad and gestured with his hand. "Follow me please."

They took off walking after him, and (Y/N) watched their feet as she followed them. All around them, people were checking out the people on the podiums, and there were even other children in the store, some of whom were crying up a storm to (Y/N)'s irritation. She had the need to stomp over to the child and hit them to shut them up, and she could feel her eyebrow twitching in response as she forced herself to keep her anger in check.

It was why she had been forced to drop out of school after all, since she had attacked a very young child who would not shut up on their life.

She will never forget the disgusted disappointment in her parents' voices on that day.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a podium, and the man gestured to the person standing on top of it.

"This is a MH300 android," he said. "It does very well with children who have autism, whether it be from mild to severe, can help teach them facial expression and body language, can help take care of them when needed, can help with potential meltdowns and stress relief, and can even do the household chores and the cooking. That reminds me, does your daughter have a certain diet?"

She practically felt the cold from both of her parents. "We can't get her to eat any vegetables," said her mother. "She will always spit them out when we try to feed them to her, and the only things she will eat is plain bread, meat, pasta, and even candy! Nothing else."

"She even eats food combinations that no one should eat, like a peanut butter sandwich submerged in ketchup," said her father.

(Y/N) practically felt her eyes burn.

The man didn't say anything to that, and thankfully didn't comment on it when he spoke up again. "Well, anyway, this android can hopefully help your daughter try new foods, especially when she grows older. I can guarantee that."

(Y/N) had chosen that moment to look up at the person on the podium, and immediately the first thing she saw was the softest green eyes she had ever seen. They looked back at her evenly, were glossy, but they were comfortable to look into. She then noticed that he was taller than her father, had his hands behind his back, wore a white shirt, pants, and shoes, blinding in the fluorescent light with a glowing blue band on his arm with the word "MH300" on one side of his chest, had peach-colored skin, and soft-looking brown hair.

He looked strong...and kind. And the fact that she was able to look right at his eyes and not look away immediately told her what she needed to know.

Just then the man from before knelt in front of her, keeping a respectful distance, but his face and voice still sounded so fake that she wanted to run up the podium and behind the man.

"Do you want to give it a name sweetie?" he asked. "It's all yours now."

(Y/N) looked back up at the man, finding him still looking at her, as if waiting to hear her orders. She walked up to him, keeping her eyes on his own, and reached up to grab one of his fingers, her hand being much too small to fully grasp two fingers. All the while he kept his eyes on her, and did not move to pull his hand away.

His skin felt so soft, like silk, and suddenly (Y/N) wished she could grab his entire hand, but first she would need to get bigger.

"Adam," she said, smiling up at him. "My big brother's name is going to be Adam."

She heard her parents and even the man gasp behind her, but she had kept her eyes on Adam's face, watching as his mouth parted slightly and his eyes widened a little before he smiled.

"My name is Adam," he said warmly, a soft, masculine, and kind voice, and pleasing to her ears.