𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) pt. 6
Plankton's sobs grew
louder, the sound a
physical presence in
the room. Karen
tightened her grip
on Chip, her eyes
never leaving Plankton's
face. She knew
this moment was
crucial, a chance for
them to bridge the gap
that had formed.
Chip felt the warmth of
his mother's embrace,
her love grounding him.
He took a deep breath,
his hand still on his
dad's back. "I'm sorry,"
he said again, his voice
steadier this time.
"I didn't know that
word was bad. I love
you, Dad."
Plankton's sobs
continued, but Chip
thought he felt a slight
lessening in their
intensity. Karen
nodded, her eyes
swollen with tears. "Keep
going," she urged.
Chip took a deep
breath, his voice
barely above a whisper.
"I love you, Dad," he said,
his hand rubbing slow
circles on Plankton's
back. "I'm sorry for
hurting you."
Plankton's sobs grew
less intense, his antennae
stilling slightly. His body
shuddered with the effort
of controlling his emotions.
He was still lost in his
pain, but he could feel
the warmth of his son's
hand, a silent apology.
Karen watched, her
heart aching for both of
them. She knew that
autism could amplify
emotions to an unbearable
degree, and she could see
Plankton's struggle to
comprehend the hurt
he had just experienced.
"Keep talking to him,
Chip," she urged, her voice
soft. "He needs to know
how much you love him."
Chip nodded, his
throat tight with emotion.
He leaned closer to
his father, his voice
shaking. "You're not
slow, Dad," he said, his
eyes never leaving
Plankton's. "You're just...
you. And I love you,
just the way you are."
Plankton's sobs grew
slightly quieter, his
body still shaking with
the aftermath as Chip's
hand moves in soothing
circles on Plankton's
back, mimicking Karen's
own soothing gestures.
Chip felt his own tears
fall now, his heart
breaking for his dad
now that he had hurt him.
He took a deep breath
and continued to speak.
"You're so smart," Chip
whispered, his voice
shaky but earnest.
"You're the best chef in
Bikini Bottom. You're...
you're just you, that's all."
Plankton's sobs grew
more muffled, his antennae
slowly calming. The sound
of Chip's voice, the warmth
of his touch, it was all
familiar and comforting.
He knew his son didn't
mean it, but the sting
of the slur was hard to
ignore.
Karen watched the
interaction, her own
heart heavy with the
weight of Plankton's pain.
But she also saw the love
and understanding growing
between her husband and
their son.
Slowly, Plankton's sobs
began to subside, his
breathing growing more
even. His antennae stopped
quivering.
Karen watched as Chip's
hands continued to make
soothing circles on his
father's back. She knew
that touch for Plankton
can be either a comfort
or a trigger.
Plankton's breaths grew
even, his sobs fading into
a quiet whimper. His antennae
finally stilled, and his body
seemed to melt into the bed.
The exhaustion that
always followed a seizure
was setting in, compounded
by the emotional turmoil.
Chip watched his dad, his
own eyes red with tears.
He didn't know what else to
say, so he just sat there,
his hand still on Plankton's
back, providing the
comfort he hoped his father
could feel. Karen's eyes
were filled with love and
pride as she watched her son.
Plankton's whimpers grew
softer, his body growing
heavier with each breath.
Karen knew he was
exhausted, both physically
and emotionally, taken a
toll on him. She reached
over to stroke his arm, her
fingers gentle.
"Plankton," Karen
said softly. "You're
okay. It's okay."
Plankton's whimpers
gradually subsided as
his eyelid drooped. His
body grew heavier with
each breath, his antennae
coming to rest against the
pillow. Karen could see
the exhaustion in his
every movement, the toll
his seizure and the
intensity of his emotions
had taken.
Chip watched as his
father's breathing grew
steadier, his body
relaxing under his
touch. The room was
now silent except for
the quiet rustle of
sheets and Plankton's
soft snores.
Karen gently eased
Chip's hand away, her
own hand lingering for
a moment longer. She
whispered, "Let him rest
now, sweetheart."
Chip nodded, his
eyes still fixed on
his father's peaceful
face. He knew Plankton
was asleep now, his
body finally at ease.
The anger had drained
from the room, leaving
behind a quiet sadness.
Karen reached for
the plush bear on the
nightstand, placing
it in Plankton's outstretched
hand. His antennae
twitched slightly in his
sleep, his grip tightening
around the toy. She
smiled softly as Plankton's
snores grew deeper.
Chip stared at his
father, his own eyes
heavy with the weight
of the evening's events.
He had never seen his
dad so vulnerable, so
overwhelmed by his own
emotions. It was a stark
contrast to the Plankton
he knew—the clever,
resourceful, and often
frustratingly stoic man who
was his hero. But here
he was, a man who needed
comfort and reassurance.
The next day, Karen
woke Chip up. "We're
gonna go across town
to a big park, okay?"
Chip nodded, following
her to Plankton's bed.
Plankton was still asleep,
his antennae twitching
slightly as he dreamt.
Karen approached the
bed, her steps light. She
knew he's a light sleeper,
yet waking him can be
startling, so she knew to
be extremely gentle.
Her hand hovered over
his shoulder. "Plankton,"
she whispered, her voice
barely a breath.
Plankton's antennae
twitched slightly, a sign
that he was coming
to. She waited, giving
his brain time to catch
up with the world. His eye
flitted open, his gaze
unfocused for a moment.
"Hey, sweetie," Karen
said, her voice gentle.
"We're going to a new
playground across town.."