𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 4
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲)
Karen moved to her bed,
her mind racing with thoughts
of what tomorrow would bring.
Her eyes stung with unshed
tears. Plankton's gentle snores
provided a rhythmic backdrop.
The next morning, Karen's
the first to wake up.
Karen slid out of bed, her eyes
on her sleeping husband. She
wondered if today would bring
any changes, any improvements.
But she didn't dare
disturb him.
The silence was a stark
contrast to the chaos in her
head. What could she do? How
could she help him? Her heart
ached with every step she took
away from him.
In the kitchen, Karen made
herself a cup of tea, her hands
shaking slightly. She knew
she had to stay strong, but fear
was a constant companion.
Could he ever be the man
she knew again? Would he ever
look at her with the same love
in his eye?
The sun was just beginning
to rise, casting a soft glow
over the kitchen. She sipped
her tea, the warmth spreading
through her body. It was a
comforting routine, one that
offered a semblance of normalcy
in the face of the unknown.
As she set the mug down,
she heard a shuffling sound
coming from the bedroom. Plankton!
He entered the kitchen, his
gait unsteady, his eye unfocused.
"Morning," he murmured, his voice
still detached.
Karen forced a smile. "Good
morning, Plankton," she said, her
voice trembling. "How did you sleep?"
Plankton nodded, his hand
flapping slightly. "Sleep," he murmured.
"Dreams. Morning." His eye searched
the room, looking for something
to anchor him to the present.
Karen took a deep breath.
"Would you like some tea?" she offered,
keeping her voice steady. "Or maybe
some toast?"
Plankton nodded again, his gaze
finally settling on the toaster.
"Toast," he said, his voice a little
more present. "Toast is good."
It was a step, a tiny
glimmer of hope in the fog of their
new reality. She made him toast,
his favorite, with just the right
amount of butter. But then the
toaster went off with it's usual
pop noise as the toast finished.
Plankton flinched at the sudden
sound. Karen's eyes
widened in concern. She'd
forgotten about his heightened
sensitivity to noise. "I'm sorry,"
she murmured, her voice soothing.
"Sound," Plankton whimpered.
"Loud. Pain." Karen felt
a pang of guilt. She'd have to
be more careful.
"It's ok," she assured him,
her voice low and gentle. "Let's
have your toast in the living
room. It's quieter there." She led
the way, watching as he
followed, his steps slow and
measured.
The living room was bathed in
the soft light of dawn, the TV
flickering with the news. Karen
quickly turned it off, not wanting
the noise to overwhelm him.
She placed the toast on a plate,
cut it into neat triangles, and
handed it to him. He took it with
a nod of thanks, his eye never
leaving hers.
For a moment, there was a
silence between them, filled with
the echoes of their past.
"Would you like to sit?" she
asked, gesturing to the couch.
Plankton nodded, his movements
precise and calculated.
As they sat together, Karen
noticed the way he avoided her
gaze, his eye darting around
the room. She took his hand,
hoping to offer comfort. He
flinched, his hand twitching in
her grasp. "I'm sorry," she
mumbled, quickly releasing him.
"No touch," he murmured, his
voice a mix of apology and
firmness.
They sat in silence for a
moment, the only sound the
crunch of toast between Plankton's
teeth. Karen watched him,
his movements so different.
"Do you remember the patty
formula?" she asked, her voice
barely above a whisper. She needed
to know if there was any part
of him that was still there,
anything she could cling to.
Plankton's eye snapped to hers,
his gaze intense. "Formula,"
he murmured. "Yes. Patty."
Karen felt a surge of hope.
The secret Krabby Patty recipe.
"Tell me," she encouraged,
her voice barely a whisper.
Plankton's eye narrowed, his
hands stilling. "Formula," he
repeated, his voice gaining
strength. "The Krabby Patty
formula. A culinary secret
guarded by SpongeBob Square
Pants' employer, Mr. Krabs."
He paused, his gaze drifting
away from her. "Cannot share.
Sensitive information. Top secret.
Eugene Krabs, Krabs full of barnacles!"
Plankton says, with his usual disdain
when it comes to Krabs.
Karen's eyes widened. It was a
tiny piece of the old Plankton, a
memory untouched by his current
condition. "It's ok," she said,
smiling. "It's just us here."
Plankton looked at her, his
expression unreadable. "Formula,"
he murmured, his eye lighting
up with a hint of mischief. "The
combination of ingredients to
create a Krabby Patty. Not to be
shared. Understood?"
Karen nodded, her smile genuine
for the first time in hours.
"Understood," she said. "It's good
to see yo-"
Plankton's head snapped up, his
eye wide. "Karen," he interrupted,
his voice urgent. "Need quiet."
Karen's smile faltered. She nodded,
swallowing the words she had
been about to say. Instead, she
simply sat beside him, her hand
resting lightly on the couch cushion
between them, a silent offering of
support.
The silence stretched, taut
as a bowstring, filled with the
weight of what had been said and
what remained unspoken. Karen
wanted to ask him more questions,
to try and coax out more of his
memories, but she knew she had to
tread carefully. Every interaction
was a delicate dance around his
fragile neural pathways.
So instead, she focused on the
present. "Let's have a quiet
day," she said. "We can just sit
and maybe look at some books.."
Plankton's hands began to flap
again, a little more erratically
than before. "Books," he murmured.
"Words, letters, information." His
voice grew excitedly happy.
Karen nodded, rising from the couch.
"I'll get you some books," she said,
her voice gentle. "You sit here."
The bookshelf was a mess, but
she knew exactly where the science
books were, his favorite. She picked
one out, a thick tome titled "The
Universe in a Nutshell," and brought
it to him, placing it in his lap with
care. "Would you like to read
about the cosmos?" she asked.
Plankton's eye lit up at the
word "read," and he nodded eagerly.
"Cosmos," he murmured, his hand
flattening against the cover.
Karen watched as he traced the
letters with his fingertip, his gaze
intense. He squeals with joy.
"Read," he said, his voice a mix
of excitement and desperation.
"Want to read."
Her screen swelled with love for
the man who, despite his
condition, still found joy in the
things that had always brought
them together. "Ok," she said,
sitting down next to him. "I'll read
to you."
This was the Plankton she recognized,
his love for knowledge untainted by the
accident's aftermath.
The book was dense, filled with
complex theories and
explanations that she knew Plankton
would devour under normal
circumstances. But now, with his
mind struggling to maintain
focus, she decided to read slowly,
enunciating each word with care.
He leaned into her, his hand
stilling against the book as she
began to speak.
Her voice was soothing, a balm
to his frayed nerves. As she
read about black holes and
expansions, she noticed his breathing
even out, his body relaxing into hers.
"The universe," he murmured,
his eye half-closed.
Karen felt a flicker of hope.
Maybe this was the key, a way
to reach him through the
labyrinth of his altered mind.
Science had always been their
common language, a bridge
over their differences. She
read on, her voice steady and calm.
"The cosmos," she began,
"is vast and ever-expanding, filled
with mysteries waiting to be
unlocked." Plankton nodded, his
breathing syncing with the rhythm
of her words. "Black holes, the
remnants of massive stars,
bend space and time around them."
The words flowed from the
pages, weaving a tapestry of
knowledge that held Plankton's
attention. Karen felt his body
ease more onto her as she continued,
his breathing deep and steady.