Work Text:
Looking back, there sure were a lot of signs Wolf had ADHD. Growing up, Wolf had thought ADHD was just... hyperactivity, inability to focus, being too loud, etc. That's how movies and TV shows had always displayed it. Even some childhood books he had read made it look that way. Beef and Kathleen never talked about that stuff, never talked about neurodivergencies or really mental disorders at all. They had no reason to, and the Tobin children never brought it up. Wolf had always been told he was too loud, too sensitive, that he was just too much. Beef always told him that's just how he was, he was unapologetically himself and he shouldn't feel ashamed of that but it got hard to be proud of who he was when kids at school called him a freak or when it took him a lot longer to read a simple paragraph because his brain just couldn't process the words in front of him.
He had never thought that the way his brain operated was abnormal. He figured everybody came with quirks like that, and he was partially right, but the amount of quirks he had all added up to something. Something not everybody had, although common.
Balance and depth perception issues
It was common. Wolf would misjudge how close he was to a doorframe and come around it too fast, his shoulder colliding roughly with the wood, then sending him falling down to the ground. Beef would be cooking dinner or catching up on his chores when he'd hear a loud thud and occasionally a grunt or the sound of Wolf's air being forced out of his lungs. Usually, Wolf would shoot back up with the never-ending enthusiasm he always carried, but sometimes he stayed down longer. Especially after a particularly long day. He had done a few tests in school and gotten bad scores and the usual assholes had picked on him, it got to him worse than usual. Kathleen was already in bed, she always told them to never bother her past 8, either because she was passed out or drunk. This particular time, he was 15, although he struggled with it nearly daily.
Beef heard the usually heavy thud of his son hitting the hardwood floor ring out through the cabin, but he didn't hear the sound of his feet getting back up and coming down the hall. He waited for a second before calling out.
"Wolf? You okay, son?" Beef called out and set the rag he had been using to wipe the counters down. Wolf didn't reply, which worried Beef. Had he seriously gotten hurt this time? Beef walked out of the kitchen, his socks shuffling against the floor as he climbed the stairs. He peeked around the corner into the hall and saw Wolf lying on the ground, arms folded under his head. He looked okay, no signs of pain or injury, but his eyes didn't even meet Beef.
"Son?" Beef tried again and stepped into the hall, carefully approaching Wolf.
"I can't even walk right." Wolf whispered, his voice heavy and filled with anger for himself. Beef stared down at him, not entirely sure what was wrong with him.
"You're just clumsy, it's okay." Beef tried gently as he knelt in front of Wolf. Beef let him stay on the ground like that, there was no point in trying to move him if he didn't want to get up.
"No, it's.. It's not okay. There's something wrong with me." Wolf sighed and pushed himself up shakily, his nose stinging. He crinkled it, trying to catch his emotions before they could get the better of him, but just that tiny gesture gave him away to Beef. Beef sighed and put his hand on Wolf's back.
"There's nothing wrong with you. This is just how you are, and there's nothing wrong with that." Beef reassured him and rubbed Wolf's back, offering him a hand to help him up. Wolf sighed and took it, letting them both rise together. He didn't say anything else, but Beef could tell in the heaviness of his steps that he didn't feel any better.
Getting picked on.
With bullies at school, the only place he fully felt safe was home, more specifically in his room. But he couldn't stay home from school forever, he had to drag himself there every day and put up with the bullying, the work, and the assault on his senses. It was hell.
There was one person who made that hell easier, though —Cheesecake—his best friend since childhood. When he'd see that Wolf was getting antsy or snappy, he'd distract him and ask him about things he was interested in. Animals, nature, media, celebrities, anything Wolf wanted to talk about, and he'd listen for however long Wolf needed.
Wolf was digging through his locker in the hall as he desperately searched for his misplaced history book. How do you lose a 5-pound book?! He sighed and dug around in his junk, his hands touching every item to ensure it wasn't his book. Just as he felt what he assumed was it, he got shoved and fell to the ground, his tailbone hitting the hard floor and sending a jolt of pain up his spine.
"Ow!" He instinctively yelped as his hand flew to his back.
"Yknow, you're really fucking weak for a boy. What were you digging around for in your hoarder's locker?"
Lindsey. Both the prettiest girl in school and the meanest. Wolf sighed and pushed himself up, trying to close his locker.
"I'm gonna be late for class, just leave me alone, please." Wolf said quickly, trying to be polite before things could escalate. He reached into his locker and grabbed his history book, Lindsey watching him with cruel eyes.
"You're a loser, you never go to any parties, and you don't have any friends, you just sit here and do nothing all day. Do you have a life? You're so freaky." She grumbled, and Wolf tensed up, clutching his book to his chest. He stayed quiet, trying to wait the waves of her toxicity out so he could get to class before he was marked absent. As she opened her mouth, loading up another bullet of hatred, Cheesecake stormed over.
"Lindsey you twat leave him alone." He groaned and stepped between them, knocking her sucker out of her mouth. She looked down at the sticky candy on the ground, then at him, chewing her lip angrily.
"I dunno why you stand up for him. You could actually have a shot at being popular, you know everybody, and you party plenty. What is up with you two? Are you gay or something?" She leaned back, her arms crossed. Cheesecake put his hands on his hips.
"Wouldn't matter if we were, it's none of your business. Don't you have all your junkie friends to talk to or are they all off shooting up in the bathroom?" Cheesecake poked her chest, and she scoffed, her eyes narrowing with both shock and anger. They all stared at each other for a bit before she flipped her long brown hair and walked off.
"Whatever you queers. Hope y'all have a good make-out sesh in the janitor's closet later!" She called out as she marched off, her stupid heels clacking against the ground. Wolf looked down at the ground, his shoulders lowering with sadness and relief that the moment was over.
"Thanks." Wolf said quietly, his voice shaky with shame. Cheesecake turned around and shook his head.
"Nah, she deserved it." Cheesecake said and closed Wolf's locker for him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and forcing him to start walking. He could feel the way Wolf was shaking now, his eyes refusing to leave the ground.
"You're okay, man. Don't let her get to you, she's just mean to be mean." Cheesecake said softly, rubbing aggressively up and down Wolf's back. Wolf nodded and wiped a hand down his face, to both clear his emotions and hide any evidence of tears that might've been forming.
Getting "overwhelmed" a lot easier than most people. (overstimulated.)
Even something as simple as the lights at school got to Wolf. They hurt his eyes, and god- they were constantly humming and flickering. They gave him migraines and made him nauseous a lot more than he'd ever admit. Somedays, he'd come home from school, lock himself in his dark, silent room, and cry. The world was always too loud and too bright, and people were too mean. Wolf had made the mistake of taking his younger siblings to the fair. It was warmer than usual for Alaska and a Sunday. The house had been heavy, Kathleen had left only a few weeks previous, but Wolf thought his siblings could use a break to just be... Kids. So, he gathered them up in the van, promised to be back by 6, shoved crumpled money into his pockets, and drove them all to the fair, letting them pick the music on the way there.
It was supposed to be fun, a break from the heaviness of the world. They did a few rides, paid too much for stupid minigames, and got greasy, nausea-inducing foods. The usual spiel for a fair. But about 2 hours in, Wolf felt himself getting antsy. His fingers started fidgeting on their own accord, the voices around them got a lot louder, the crappy, pop music that was blasting over every speaker suddenly started pounding within his head. His siblings were ahead of them, arms full of toys and candy, he wanted them to have this. Wanted them to have a good time, so he tried to stick it out. He really, really tried.
But that just resulted in him locking himself in a bathroom stall and hyperventilating. He had told Ham, Judy, and Moon to wait outside while he went to pee, but frankly, he was just trying to buy himself a few seconds of silence. He pressed his back to the stall door, whimpers forcing themselves out with every pant and gasp. He buried his face in his hands, scratching at his scalp and shaking his legs to try and regulate himself, but nothing was helping. Every nerve in his body was alive, he felt his energy draining right out of him like a rag being rung out of water.
"Please, please please." Wolf whispered to himself, yanking on his hair so hard his head jerked forward. Tears sprang to his eyes at the stinging of his scalp, he could hear his own blood rushing in his ears, his own heart hammering against his ribcage. Everything was too loud and too quiet all at once, the silence was deafening.
Then he heard a knock.
"Wolf? Are you okay? Are you pukin'?" It was Ham. Wolf had no idea how long he had been in the stall, but it had been long enough for them to get worried. Wolf swallowed shakily, his throat dry enough that his saliva clung to it.
"N-No. Just.." He couldn't even finish the sentence, his brain was too scrambled, his senses too fried. He let out a quiet cry, his hand clutching the fabric of his shirt.
"Oh." Ham said quietly, catching onto the fact that Wolf was upset. He stood out there for a second before crawling under the stall door. Ham was only 13 at this point, a little older than Judy, but he had seen Wolf upset more than the other kids had. Wolf jumped a little at his presence but didn't pull away when Ham wrapped his bony arms around him, resting the side of his head against Wolf's chest.
"We can go home if you want. I think Moon's havin' a sugar crash anyway." Ham said softly and just stood there, staring at the filthy toilet and listening to the muffled sound of Wolf's lungs forcing oxygen in and out way too quickly. Wolf closed his eyes, his hands flying down to clutch onto Ham's arms.
"Dad's making salmon tonight." Ham said and looked up at Wolf. He knew salmon was one of Wolf's favorites. Wolf nodded and tried to slow his breathing down, but the echoing of the music in the bathroom was making it difficult to calm down.
" 's too l-loud." Wolf said way too loudly. The music wasn't even loud, it was quieter than the running sinks, but Ham didn't say anything, just moved his hands up to cover Wolf's ears.
"Let's go home, okay? Nobody will mind. Judy has like 10 plushies she wants to add to her collection." Ham said and helped Wolf off of the stall door. Judy and Moon didn't question when Wolf came out of the bathroom with red eyes and trembling legs, they did, however, look at Ham. Maybe he gave them a signal not to push it. Wolf was too tired to figure it out.
Trouble processing big emotions/outbursts.
Kathleen had always called them tantrums, even when Wolf was a teen. It was belittling, more belittling than crying over a broken figure or the fact that his favorite blanket was missing. He knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't help it. His emotions came hard and fast, and he couldn't even attempt to stop them before they washed over him in overwhelming, suffocating waves.
One time, Beef had thrown away one of Wolf's old t-shirts that he swore Wolf never wore anymore, but apparently, Wolf wore it constantly to sleep in and broke down the second he realized he wouldn't be able to get it back.
"Wolf- Bud- We can get you another T-shirt, I'm sorry." Beef said as his hands hovered over Wolf's sobbing, trembling form. He was crumpled on the ground, his back pressed to his bed. He was surrounded by t-shirts he had thrown around while desperately searching for the shirt.
"It won't be the same! It won't be MY shirt!" He wailed, pathetically wiping at the droplets of tears and snot running down his face. Beef grunted from guilt and confusion. He didn't understand why this was so important for Wolf, he just knew he was hurting. He wrapped his arms around Wolf, holding him in a protective embrace. Although Beef had been the one to throw away the shirt, Wolf buried his face into his dad's chest and clutched onto the back of his shirt. Beef rubbed his back slowly, feeling the tremors that wracked through his body in waves.
"I didn't know. I'll make it up to you however I can, son. Just try to calm down." He said lowly, petting the back of Wolf's head. His mullet was disheveled and messy beneath Beef's touch.
"You threw away my shirt." Wolf whined into Beef's chest, his hands shaking against his dad's back. Beef nodded because it was true; he had thrown away Wolf's shirt.
" I didn't know it was so important to you." He said as Wolf pulled away, wiping at his face aggressively.
"Well, don't throw other people's stuff away!" Wolf snapped and looked up at Beef, his eyes frantic and full of tears. Beef's face darkened slightly, his brows furrowing as his lips pressed together, and Wolf immediately knew he had messed up.
"I'm sorry- I... I'm sorry Dad." Wolf muttered quickly, hiding his face in his hands as he curled up against himself. Beef sighed and wrapped his arms around Wolf again. He didn't understand why Wolf was so worked up, didn't understand why that shirt meant so much to him, and he didn't understand why Wolf had snapped at him. Wolf was never mean like that, especially not to him. But if anything, it just further proved that Wolf was losing it, and Beef wouldn't get onto him for that.
Sensory issues.
Certain textures and materials could make Wolf physically recoil. Like the texture of microfiber towels, the ones Beef used to wipe away oil stains, then would ask Wolf to toss them into the laundry. Every time Wolf touched one, he'd have to wash his hands 3 times, then aggressively rub them on soft things like his blankets, his sweater, the couch, anything to get the feeling off of his fingertips.
Or the texture of flan. Judy had made him try some of hers at a restaurant one time, and he had put it into his mouth without a second thought. Nobody hated flan! But the texture threw him off immediately. His chewing went from confident and excited to slow and hesitant, his eyes flying open to stare at the table. He couldn't even swallow it, just started shaking his head aggressively fast, and going 'mm-mm' like nuh-uh, but with his mouth full. Beef had handed him a tissue, and as quickly as Wolf had put it in his mouth, he spit it out and folded the tissue up. He chugged his entire cup of ice water after that, which resulted in a brain freeze, but he'd take that over the texture lingering on his tongue.
One time, he had accidentally brushed the tips of his fingernails against a metal pole, a hollow metal pole. It was so.. dry and dirty. It felt like hell had realized its angriest demons upon his senses, and he jumped back like he had been burned. Beef was carrying groceries when it happened, and he set them down quickly, thinking Wolf had been hurt.
"What happened?" He asked and reached out for Wolf's hands, but Wolf just shook his head, rubbing them aggressively against his jeans.
"No- Nothing, it just- the pole felt bad. Wolf said quickly as he scratched his jeans, leaving streaks of lighter blue against them. Moon looked him up and down, then at the pole, narrowing his eyes at it.
"Maybe it's cursed." He whispered and pushed Wolf away from it, making both of them scurry behind Beef. Beef rolled his eyes with a smile and picked the bag back up, proceeding on the path home.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
When Honeybee had convinced him to go talk to someone about it, and he got diagnosed with ADHD, his entire world shifted. They explained to him that he qualified to be put on medication if he wished to be, and he should start looking into tools to make his life easier. Noise-canceling headphones, weighted blankets, and sensory aids, his life had been harder than it needed to be for so long.
When he told the family over dinner, Beef apologized for never realizing, but Wolf quickly reassured him that it wasn't his fault; he was just glad to be diagnosed now instead of in another ten years, for example.
Honeybee was incredibly supportive through it. She read blogs, articles, and tweets, fully submerged herself in learning everything she could to help Wolf. She had a little fun with it, making Insta posts on new things she figured out and starting her own hashtag, #Bee4adhdee. She made things a lot easier for Wolf and never made him feel weird for needing nights to himself or freaking out at the feeling of wet clothes against his skin. She understood him, and that was the greatest gift he could be given.
In hindsight, there were a lot of signs that something might be up with him; there were a lot of things he could've been provided with to make learning and growing easier. Now that Kathleen was out of their lives and not shaming him for being the way he was, he was a lot more open to embracing himself, even the weird side of him that turned out to be ADHD.
