Come Together Emoji Combos

➡️🫂⬅️

🫂➡️💞

➡️📍⬅️

🚶‍♂️🚶‍♀️➡️🫂

➡️👥⬅️🗣️

➡️⬅️

🚶‍♀️🚶‍♂️➡️📍⬅️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♂️

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 1 Chip came home early from a friend's house. His parents are named Karen and Plankton. They didn't expect Chip home so early, nor do they notice him outside their bed room door. Plankton has an autistic neurodisability they've kept hidden, so imagine Chip's confusion upon seeing his dad having an absence seizure. Plankton's eye stared blankly ahead, unblinking, as Karen sat by him. "I've your box of your special sensory items. What plushie might you want?" she whispered. "I'll just get your stuffed bear." Her voice was soothing, and calm. The room was silent except for the rhythmic sound of his breathing. He was in the midst of an absence seizure, his mind momentarily adrift. She knew the routine by heart. Everything had to be just right to bring him back to reality without causing distress. Karen gently picked up the box. She selected a favorite plush, the worn bear, and then carefully approached. As she neared, she noticed Chip, his eyes wide and scared, staring at the scene from the doorway. She swallowed her surprise, trying to maintain the serene façade. "Hi sweetie, come in," she managed, her voice steady. Chip tiptoed closer, his heart racing. He had never seen his dad like this. "What's happening to Dad?" he whispered. Karen knelt beside him, her eyes full of warmth. "Chip, right now Dad is just having a little rest but with his eye open. It's like when you get so lost in a video game you don't hear me calling you." "But why is he like this?" Chip's curiosity was palpable, his voice shaking slightly. Karen took a deep breath, choosing her words with care. "Dad has what's called a congenital neurodisability," she began. "It's a bit like when a daydream but his 'neuroregressions' are more intense for him. One might call these moments 'brain hiccups'. We kept it hidden because he didn't want people to judge him." Chip's gaze never left his father's frozen expression. "But why hide it?" Karen squeezed his hand, her eyes reflecting empathy. "Because, dear, some people might not understand. They could make fun or treat him differently. We didn't want his world to be harder. And you know your father values his pride." Chip nodded, his thoughts racing. He had always known his dad was different, but he had never quite put his finger on how. "Can I talk to him?" Karen's smile was soft. "It's important that you know, but we want to make sure he's okay with sharing too. It's a form of autism he has. But right now he's in a little bubble. It's like he's in a different world, okay? But we can coax him back gently." She placed the bear in Plankton's hand. His hands curled around it instinctively, clutching the familiar softness. "He might not immediately engage with you, but you can try speaking to him." Chip leaned closer, his voice trembling. "Dad?" Plankton's eye remains fixed, unblinking. Karen gave him a gentle nudge. "Remember, sweetie, don't touch his body or startle him. Just let him know you're here." "Dad, it's us, and a stuffed bear is also here for you. The bear is so soft," Chip said, his voice a mix of fear and wonder. "It's waiting for you to wake up." He paused, watching his father's unmoving hand. Plankton's thumb twitched slightly against the plush fabric. It was the tiniest of movements, but it was something. Karen nodded encouragingly from the sidelines, her eyes never leaving her husband. "That's it, Chip," she murmured. "Keep talking to him." Chip swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes wet with unshed tears. He took another deep breath and leaned even closer. "Dad, can you feel the bear?" He paused, watching his father's hand tighten around the plush toy. "It's here, wanting you to play. Do you see it's smiling? Look, the bear's smiling just for you." Plankton's hand moved slightly, tracing the bear's stitched smile with his thumb. Karen's eyes filled with relief as she watched the connection unfold. "See, Dad?" Chip whispered, his voice barely audible. "The bear missed you. It's here to keep you company until you're ready to come back to us." His words were met with a faint sigh from Plankton, a sign his brain was slowly emerging from its brief retreat. Encouraged, Chip took the stuffed bear and waved it in front of Plankton's vacant gaze. "Look, the bear's waving back!" He hoped the motion would catch Plankton's attention, but his father remained even more still, his eye unmoving. He tried a different tactic, placing the bear gently on Plankton's lap and giving it a little shake. "It's okay, Dad, the bear wants to play," he said, his voice a soft coax. "What do you say? Can we play together?" For a moment, nothing. Then, a flicker. Plankton's eye moved slightly, refocusing on the bear. It was a small victory. "Look, Dad, it's smiling at you. It's happy you're holding it," Chip said, his voice steady now. Slowly, Plankton's hand began to stroke the bear's fur. The rhythmic motion was almost mesmerizing. Karen watched, her own heart rate returning to normal. It was always a delicate balance, bringing him back. "That's right, Dad," Chip said, his voice filled with encouragement. "You're doing great." He picked up another plushie from the box, a small octopus with long, waving tentacles. "Look what else I found, an octopus!" Plankton's gaze shifted slightly. "It's got eight arms and can give you so many hugs at once." Chip held the octopus up. Plankton's hand twitched. Karen watched with a tiny smile, her heart swelling with pride for her son's patience. "Why don't you put it on Dad's other hand?" she suggested quietly. Chip nodded, gently placing the octopus on his father's hand. Plankton flinched at first but soon grew still again. "Now, Dad, you have more friends to keep you company," Chip said. "They're so friendly and smart." Karen watched as Chip was about to speak again but she held up a finger, signaling for him to wait. Plankton's eye blinked suddenly, breaking the glassy stare. His gaze flitted around the room, trying to piece together his surroundings, his expression puzzled. "You're okay," Karen said, her voice a gentle whisper. "K-Karen?" he croaked, his voice hoarse from his unspoken silence. "What...what's going on?" he asked, his voice weak but growing stronger. Chip watched, his own anxiety fading as he saw his dad's confusion. He held up the octopus. "Look, Dad, it's okay. We're here. You had a little brain hiccup but we're playing with plushies." He tried to smile, unsure if Plankton would understand.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 4 Chip looked down at the octopus in his lap, his eyes filling with tears. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I just didn't understand." Karen took a deep breath, trying to calm her own shaking voice. "You need to understand, Chip. That word is not okay," she said, her tone steady. "It's hurtful and disrespectful. Your father is not 'that'. He's autistic. And autistic is just a part of who he is." Chip looked up at her, his expression one of shock and dawning realization. "But why didn't you tell me?" he asked, his voice small. "Why did you keep it a secret?" Karen took a moment to compose herself, her own tears threatening to spill over. "We didn't keep it a secret just to hide it," she explained, her voice trembling. "We kept it private because it's your father's story to tell, not ours. And because we didn't want you to think of him any differently. But we should have talked to you, yes. We should have helped you understand." Chip nodded slowly, his eyes fixed on the octopus in his hand. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to make hi-" "Don't," Karen said, cutting him off. "Your apology can wait. Right now, you need to understand why that word is wrong." She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's not just a label, Chip. It's a way people have used to put others down. To make them feel less than." Her voice was firm, her eyes never leaving his. "Your father has felt that way enough times already; he doesn't need it from his own son!" Chip nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. He hadn't realized the impact of his ignorance. "What can I do to make it right?" he asked, his voice cracking. Karen took a deep breath. "First, you need to educate yourself," she said gently. "Learn your dad's specific needs. Talk to him. Hear his story. Understand what it's like for him." Chip nodded, his gaze firm. "Okay," he said, his voice still shaky. "I'll do that." Karen goes back to the bedroom to find Plankton sitting on the edge of the bed, his body wracked with sobs. His hand was moving in a repetitive motion, tracing the edge of the bedspread, a silent testament to his pain. Her heart breaking, she sat beside him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "It's okay, love," she soothed, her voice gentle. "It's okay to cry." Plankton's sobs grew louder, his body shaking. But amidst the tears, a steady sound emerged. It was the soft, rhythmic humming he often did when he was overwhelmed or even just restless. It was his way of self- soothing, his brain's attempt to find order in the chaos. Karen had learned to recognize this sound over the years. She held his hand, her thumb rubbing small circles in his palm. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice a balm to his raging emotions. "I'm here." Plankton's humming grew softer, his body slowly still. The anger drained from him, leaving behind only sadness. "Chip," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "He said the word." It was a private stim, one Karen knew meant Plankton was trying to process the pain. He spoke to himself often during these moments, his thoughts running in a loop as he tried to find comfort in his own company as he rocked back and forth. "But why?" Plankton whispered, his eye glazed over as he felt the familiar rhythm of his stim kick in. "Why would Chip, Chip did?" He stared at his own hand. "I'm not that. I'm not." Karen's heart ached at the pain in his voice. She knew this was his way of trying to make sense of the world. "You're not, love," she assured him. "You're just different. And that's okay." Chip goes into his parents bedroom and goes up to Plankton slowly, the octopus in his hand. "Dad," he whispers, his voice tentative. Plankton looks up, his eye red and swollen from crying. "I'm sorry," Chip says, holding out the octopus. "Can we ta—" But Plankton doesn't give him a chance to finish. "I don't want your apology," he says coldly. He turns his body away from Chip. Karen's eyes dart between the two of them, her heart racing with fear of the growing rift. "Plankton," she starts, but he shakes his head. "Please," Chip says, his voice breaking. "I didn't know." He takes another step forward, his hand outstretched. "Let me help you," he says, putting his hand on his dad's shoulder to turn him around. But Plankton flinches at the touch, his sensory overload already at peak. Karen's eyes widen as she recognizes the signs of another seizure coming on. "No," she says. "Not now." But it's too late. Plankton's eye rolls back. Chip backs away, his heart racing. This was his fault. If he hadn't upset him, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Karen moves swiftly, placing the bear in his trembling hand. The room goes quiet as the seizure takes hold, the only sounds Plankton's whimpers. Chip watches. He wants to help, but doesn't know how. Karen moves quickly, guiding the bear into Plankton's hand. "Now Chip," she says, her voice steady. "When your dad comes back, he may not immediately remember. He might talk funny or seem confused. It just means he needs some time to get his thoughts back." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his father's trembling form as the shaking slows. Drool trickled down the corner of Plankton's mouth as he began to mumble. "Wha-wha-wha," Plankton phrased, trying to piece together the shattered thoughts. It was like his brain had gone back to the beginning, relearning how to speak, to process the world around him. It was both heartbreaking and strangely endearing. "Bear," he mumbled, his fingers fidgeting with the plush toy. "Bear...good." He giggled, a high-pitched sound that seemed out of place coming from him. "Bear is...bear." His speech was a jumble of words. Karen watched with a mix of amusement and sadness. This was a part of Plankton's recovery she had seen before, his brain trying to find its footing again. It was like a toddler learning to talk, except it was her husband. She turned to Chip. "Try talking to him," she urged. "Keep it simple and calm."

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 11 Plankton was already halfway off the chair, his laughter turning into a wince as he realized he wasn't as steady as he thought. Karen rushed over, her hands firm but gentle as she helped him back down. "Easy there, tough guy," she teased. Plankton's giggles turned into a soft chuckle, his body still feeling the effects of the anesthesia. He leaned into her touch. "Tish wash... funmy," he murmured, his eye still not quite focusing. Karen couldn't help but smile at his innocent statement. "You sure you're okay?" Sandy asked, her voice tinged with amusement. "M'good," he slurred, his eye still not quite focusing. "What's so funny?" Karen asked, her voice filled with curiosity. "The... the... tish," he managed. His eye was still half-closed, his mouth lopsided with the gauze sticking out. Drool was starting to form at the corner of his mouth. Sandy couldn't help but laugh at the sight of him, his usual cunning persona replaced by something so vulnerable. Karen and Sandy shared a knowing glance. The anesthesia had definitely made him loopy. "Tish wath tickly," Plankton mumbled, his voice still thick. "Goeth... goeth... we aww goo to the... the... lobby?" Plankton mumbles. Karen and Sandy exchange a look, a silent agreement that he was indeed experiencing the 'loopy' phase the nurse had warned about. Sandy nodded, trying not to laugh. "Yeah, we can go to the lobby," she said. Plankton nodded, his eye wide with innocent excitement. The three of them made their way out of the surgical room and into the brightly lit hallway. Plankton's steps were wobbly, from the anesthesia. The lights are bright, making him squint and whine. "Owwie," he says, his hand shooting up to cover his eye. Chip looked up from his book, his eyes widening at the sight of his father's swollen mouth and dazed expression. Plankton turns to his son, his gaze slightly glazed. "Hi... hi... Chip," he says, his voice high-pitched and childlike. Karen sighs, seeing the worry in Chip's eyes. "It's okay," she says. Plankton's eye widened, and he looked at his hand as if surprised to find it there. "Whu...?" he said, his voice high-pitched and childlike. Karen's smile grew wider. "We're going home. Let's find where we parked." Plankton nodded. "My... mouthy," he mumbled through the gauze. They walked slowly to the car, Karen's arm around his waist, keeping him steady. The car's interior was warm, a stark contrast to the coolness of the dental office. Plankton sighed as he sunk into the seat. Karen carefully buckled him in, her eyes never leaving his. "Comfortable?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton nodded, his eye half-closed. "Mmhmm," he mumbled, his head lolling against the headrest as Karen started the car. As Karen navigated the parking lot, Plankton's hand shot up to the window. "Wook! The... the caw!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder. Sandy and Chip couldn't help but exchange amused looks. It was like watching a toddler discover the world for the first time. Karen's heart swelled with a mix of love and protection. She knew this was just a temporary side effect of the anesthesia, but seeing him so carefree was a rare treat. As they drove home, Plankton pointed out the window, his voice filled with excitement. "Wook, the tweef!" he exclaimed, his finger poking the window. Sandy couldn't help but smile at his innocence. Karen watched him in the rearview mirror, her heart swelling with affection. "Remember," she said gently, "you've seen trees before, sweetie." Plankton nodded, his gaze still fixed on the world, pointing at the sky. "Biwdies." His voice was so soft, it was like he was speaking to himself. Chip leaned over to Karen. "Is this normal?" he whispered. Karen just chuckled. "It's the drugs," she said. "They make him see things differently." Plankton's hand dropped from the window. "I'm sho tiwweeddd," he murmured. Karen nodded. "We're almost home," she said. The car ride was smooth, the engine's purr lulling Plankton closer to sleep. His eye closed completely, his head lolling against the headrest as he began to snore softly. Sandy watched him from the backseat, a soft smile playing on her lips. It was strange to see Plankton so... peaceful. The car pulled into the garage, and Karen gently shook him awake. "Whu...?" he mumbled, his eye blinking slowly. "Home," she whispered. "We're home." Plankton nodded, his head lolling back. Karen helped Plankton out of the car, his legs wobbly and his grip unsteady. His drool had soaked through the gauze, leaving a wet stain on his mouth. "Oh, you," Karen said, shaking her head with a smile. Sandy and Chip followed behind, carrying the dental bag. They walked slowly through the house, each step echoing in the hallway. Plankton leaned heavily on Karen, his body still not quite in sync with his mind. They reached the couch, where Plankton flopped down with a sigh, the gauze in his mouth sticking out. The drool had formed a small puddle over his chin. "Tish wath... tickly," he said, his voice still thick and slurred. Karen couldn't help but laugh, her eyes full of love. Plankton giggled. "Jewwy... gooood." Chip watched with interest, his curiosity piqued by his father's odd behavior. "Daddy, are you okay?" he asked. Karen wiped Plankton's chin with a napkin. "He's just a bit loopy," she explained to Chip. "It's from the medicine they gave him." Chip nodded, though his brow remained furrowed. "What's so funny?" Sandy asked gently. Plankton's eye opened, focusing on her face. "You," he said, his voice still slurred. Sandy's eyes widened in surprise. "Me?" she asked. Plankton nodded, his chuckles growing louder. "You wook... funmy," he said, his words slurred. Chip, his curiosity piqued, approached the couch. "Can I... sit here?" he asked tentatively. Plankton nodded, patting the spot next to him. "C'mere, Chip." Karen watched as their son sat. Chip looked down at his father, his expression a mix of concern and fascination. "Why are you so funny?" he asked. Plankton's eye twinkled with amusement. "The... the... teefy stuff," he murmured. His hand reached out, his finger tracing the curve of Chip's cheek. "Sho soft." Sandy and Karen watched the exchange, their smiles growing wider. It was rare to see Plankton so affectionate, especially in such a public setting. But the anesthesia had lowered his inhibitions, bringing forth a tenderness that was usually reserved for his quiet moments with Karen. Chip's unsure of how to react, Plankton's gaze still hazy but filled with love. "Youw sho... sho... wookwum," Plankton managed to say, his voice still thick with the remnants of the anesthesia. Karen watched them, her heart swelling with warmth. It wasn't often that Plankton was this affectionate without the fear of judgment. The surgery had peeled back a layer of his armor, revealing the tender soul underneath. "I... I wuv... you," Plankton slurred, his hand still on Chip's cheek. The words were unexpected, and Chip's expression softened. "Love you too, Dad," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's hand dropped to his side. Sandy's gaze went from Plankton to Chip and back again, her own heart swelling at the sight. It was clear that despite the loopy state he was in, the words were genuine.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 15 "I said NO!" Plankton's voice boomed again, his tiny fists clenched tightly by his side. His body was a coil of tension, his usual calculating gaze replaced by one of pure, unbridled rage. Karen stepped back, her heart racing. She'd seen this side of him before, yet it was always a shock. Plankton's chest heaved with heavy breaths, his face a mask of pain and fury. Karen knew that his anger was a defense mechanism, a way to cope with the overwhelming sensory overload. She took a tentative step closer, her hands up in a non-threatening motion. "No, no, no," he muttered, shaking his head. "I don't like it. I don't like it when they touch me." His voice was a mix of anger and fear. Sandy stepped in, her voice calm and soothing. "It's okay, Plankton. We're just trying to help." She offered a gentle smile, her hands open and palms facing him. "Let's al-" "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP!" Plankton's scream pierced the silence, sending a shiver down Sandy's spine. His tiny body was a whirlwind of anger, his eye wild with fear. Karen stepped back, knowing that pushing him now would only make things worse. Chip looked at his father, his eyes wide with fright. He'd never seen his father like this. Hanna, however, thought he needed more than just space. Her instincts told her to comfort him, to show him that he wasn't alone. She took a step closer, her hand reaching out again. "Plankton," she said softly, her eyes filled with understanding. But her gentle touch was met with a sudden jerk, as Plankton swiped her hand away with a snarl. "No!" he shouted, his body stiffening against the bed. "I said no!" Karen's heart ached as she watched her husband's breakdown unfold. She knew his autism made him particularly sensitive to touch, especially when he was in pain or overwhelmed. Hanna, though well-meaning, was unaware of this and her persistent affection was only exacerbating his distress. "Back off!" Plankton roared, his body arching. Hanna froze, her hand in mid-air. "I'm sorry, Plankton," she stammered, her eyes wide with shock. She'd never seen anyone react so violently to kindness before, Plankton's eye darting around the room. "I don't like it," he murmured, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "I don't like it.." "But... but Plankton," Hanna protested, her voice quavering. "You're hurt, I just want to help." Plankton's body stilled, his eye flickering with a mix of emotions. "I don't like it," he repeated, his voice low. "It's okay," Karen said, keeping her voice calm. Chip nodded, his eyes still wide with concern, but he backed away. Sandy took a step back too, her expression a mix of surprise and understanding. Only Hanna remained, her hand hovering in the air, her brows furrowed with confusion. "Plankton," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "I just want to make sure you're okay." His eye darted to her, his anger flaring anew. "I'm fine," he snarled, his voice harsh. "Just... leave me al-" "But Plankton," Hanna protested, her voice filled with concern. "You're acting so problematic." She doesn't understand the depth of his condition, and the next word slips out before she could catch it. "You're being so... ret-" The word hung in the air, a sharp knife cutting through the tension. Plankton's body stiffened, his eye flaring with a mix of anger and pain. His heart skipped a beat, a cruel reminder of the slur that had caused so much pain in the past. "Get out," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Get out, now." Hanna looked at him, her expression a mix of shock and pity. "But Plankton, we all know you are!" She stated. "You need to understand that your behavior is unacceptable. Do you think Karen herself would have married you if she knew you were...? You know you are, Plankton. It's just a fact." Plankton felt tears well up in his eye. "Hanna, that's enough!" he snapped. But Hanna was on a roll, her voice growing louder with each word. "You're just a burden, always needing special treatment," she said, her voice harsh. "That's not fair, Hanna," he said, his voice firm. "And if Karen heard yo-" "Oh, please," Hanna sneered. "Your poor wife has to deal with this every day. She deserves better." Plankton's eye narrowed, his anger building. "You don't know anything about what Karen and I have," he said, his voice shaking. "Karen won't be hap–" "Karen is a saint, Plankton," Hanna interrupted, her voice dripping with condescension. "Putting up with your little... quirks. And Karen won't tell you the truth, but I will. You're a re--- and she knows it. She's too nice to say it, but we all know. Karen doesn't actually love someone like you, Plankton." She said, her voice cold and sharp. "You want people to feel sorry for you, but even Karen believes that deep down. Why else would she have picked someone like me over you? So go ahead, have your little tantrum; no one cares." With that, Hanna turned and left, the door slamming behind her. Was it true? He took a deep, shaky breath and closed his eye, willing the tears away. When he opened it again, his gaze fell on the plush toy Karen had left on his bedside table. He picked it up, his thumb rubbing the soft fabric absently. Did Karen see him as only something to be just pitied, rather than loved? To hear it from someone so close to Karen was like being stabbed in the heart. He curled into a ball.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 13 The quiet was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was Hanna, Karen's newest friend, who didn't know about their situation. "I brought over sudoku for you Karen," she chirped, her eyes widening as she took in Plankton's swollen face. "Oh my Neptune; what happened?" Karen chuckled, leading Hanna into the living room. "It's my husband," she whispered. "He had his wisdom teeth out." Hanna's gaze fell to Plankton, still sprawled on the couch. Her eyes went wide at the sight of his puffy mouth and dazed expression. "Oh, the poor dear," she mumbled, her voice filled with concern. Karen nodded. "It's okay, he's just a bit loopy from the anesthesia," she explained, her tone light. "And meet our son Chip, and my gal pal Sandy.." Hanna's eyes darted to Sandy, then to Chip, then back to Plankton. "Hi," Chip mumbled, his voice shy. Sandy offered a small wave from her chair. Hanna smiled warmly. "Hi there," she said, her eyes still on Plankton. "My house is being repaired and I need a place to stay.." Karen nodded. "Of course, you can stay here," she said. "You and Sandy can share the guest bedroom." Hanna's eyes widened. "But... what about him?" she whispered, pointing at Plankton. Karen chuckled. "Don't worry," she said. "He'll be out for a few more hours. Just keep it down, ok?" She didn't wanna tell Hanna about his autism without his consent. Hanna nodded, her curiosity piqued. "I'll be quiet as a clam," she promised. Karen turned back to Plankton, her gaze filled with love. "Honey," she said, her voice gentle. "We have a guest. Hanna's going to stay with us for a bit." Plankton's eye opened slightly. "Wha... who?" he slurred, his voice still thick. "It's... it's okay," Karen soothed. "It's just Ha—" But Plankton's eye closes again, cutting off her introduction. "Mmh," he mumbled, his head lolling to the side. Clearly, the anesthesia was still in full effect. Hanna looked from Karen to Plankton, her confusion clear. "Is he ok?" she asked, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity. Karen nodded. "He's fine," she said. "Just tired." With a gentle nudge, Karen coaxed Plankton to sit up, his body moving sluggishly. "Bedtime, sweetie," she said, keeping her voice low and soothing. Plankton's eye flickered open, and he looked at her with a sleepy gaze. "Bet?" He stumbled to his feet, leaning heavily on Karen's arm. "M'fine," he mumbled, his steps wobbly. Sandy watched with a soft smile, her heart warmed by the tender scene. Chip looked up from his spot on the floor, his curiosity piqued by his father's unusual behavior. They made their way to the bedroom, Plankton's steps slow and deliberate as his body fought against the anesthesia's lingering grip. Karen helped him into his bed. As she pulled the covers up to his chin, his eye fluttered open. "I... I wuv youw," he whispered, his voice still slurred. Karen's eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too," she said, kissing his forehead. With a gentle touch, she began to remove the gauze from his mouth. His eye widened slightly, and he made a small protesting sound. "Shh, it's okay," she murmured. The gauze came away with ease, revealing the stitches. Plankton's mouth was still slightly swollen, but the bleeding had stopped. Sandy watched from the doorway, her smile warm. "We'll talk more tomorrow, okay?" Plankton nodded, his gaze drooping. "M'kay," he mumbled. Karen tucked him in, his body already starting to relax into sleep. As she turned off the light, she couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over her. Despite the day's events, Plankton had managed to show them all his true colors, his love and affection shining through the fog of pain and medication. The next morning, any anesthesia in Plankton's body was gone. He woke up, his hand flying to his mouth. "Oww," he whined, his mouth hurting and sore. Karen greets him. "Good morning, darling," she said softly. "How do you feel?" Plankton's face scrunched up as he tried to recall. "Right, I had my wisdom teeth out," he said, his speech no longer slurred. He sat up slowly, his hands gently touching the swollen cheeks. "It's okay," Karen said. "It's normal to feel discomfort after surgery." Plankton nodded, his mind racing as he remembered the previous night's events. "What happened last night?" he asked, his voice still thick with sleep. Karen smiled, handing him a cup of water. "You had a bit of an adventure," she said. "But we'll tell you all about it later." She helped him sip the water. "What all do you remember, Plankton?" He furrowed his brow, his thoughts jumbled. "I remember... I remember going and... the mask," he mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly. "I next woke up..." His voice trailed off, his gaze darting around the room. "I was helped to the car. I believe that's all."

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 14 Karen had decided to keep his post-surgery nonsense revelations to themselves for now, not wanting to overwhelm him with too much information at once. Chip and Sandy entered the room, their eyes filled with concern. "Morning, Dad," Chip said, his voice tentative. Plankton looked up at his son, then at Sandy. "You both... you were... there?" he asked, his voice still groggy. Sandy nodded, a gentle smile on her face. "You had a good night," she assured him. Chip sat on the edge of the bed, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What do you mean?" Plankton asked, his gaze shifting from one to the other. Sandy cleared her throat. "You were a bit... out of it," she began. "You said some things that were... well, not quite like you." Plankton's eye narrowed slightly, his memory foggy. "What kind of things?" Karen and Sandy exchanged a look, a silent conversation passing between them. "You were just loopy," Karen said gently. "You know, from the medicine." Plankton nodded, his curiosity still piqued. "Like what?" "Well," Chip began, "you called me your best son." Plankton's eye went wide. "What?" he exclaimed, his voice sharp. "I said that?" Karen nodded with a soft smile. "You did, Plankton." Plankton's face grew red with embarrassment. "Oh, Neptune," he mumbled, his hand flying to his mouth. Sandy stepped forward. "You don't need to be embarrassed, Plankton," she said gently. "It's just how the anesthesia affected you." Plankton took a deep breath, his mind racing. "I... I remember feeling relieved to be ok..." Chip leaned in, his voice filled with wonder. "Dad, you were like a different person. You were so..." Plankton's face grew redder, his discomfort palpable. "Chip, I don't know what you're talking about," he said, his voice sharp. "Please, just... just give me some space." Karen stepped in, her voice soothing. "It's okay, Plankton. The anesthesia can make people say things they don't mean." But Chip was insistent, his eyes wide with curiosity. "But Dad, you said you love me," he pressed, his voice innocent and hopeful. Plankton swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest, when Hanna came in. "Oh, Plankton, you're finally awake!" she said, cheerfully. He looked at her, his expression blank. "You don't remember?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. "Remember what?" he mumbled, his head throbbing with confusion. "Who is SHE?" Karen stepped in, placing a calming hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Plankton," she said gently. "You had some medicine that made you a bit loopy. This is Hanna, my friend. She's staying here while her house gets repairs." Plankton's gaze went to Hanna. "Friend?" he repeated, his voice still thicker than usual. Hanna smiled warmly. "Hi there, Plankton! I'm so sorry to see you feeling poorly.." Her cheerfulness was met with Plankton's skepticism. He'd never met her before, and his autistic mind was still trying to piece together the events of the previous evening. His eye narrowed slightly as he took her in, his usual caution in full force. "I... I don't know you," he said. Hanna's smile didn't waver. "But your wife Karen is one of my best friends!" Karen stepped in, seeing the uncertainty in Plankton's gaze. "Remember Hanna, sweetie?" she asked, her voice gentle. Plankton frowned, his mind racing to recall any details. "I don't..." he trailed off, his voice filled with confusion. Hanna approached the bed, her movements slow and careful not to startle him. "It's okay. I'm a friend of Karen's." She held out a hand. "Would you li—" But Plankton recoiled, his body tensing. "Don't touch me," he snapped, his voice sharp with frustration. Hanna's hand hovered in the air, before retreating. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—" "It's fine," Karen said, cutting her off. She knew how overwhelming the world could be for Plankton, and this was clearly pushing his limits. She and Sandy shared a knowing look. Plankton's autism often made social situations challenging, and his sensory processing was particularly sensitive as he recovers from oral surgery. "Daddy, it's okay," Chip whispered, placing a tentative hand on Plankton's shoulder. The touch was unwelcome, and Plankton's eye darted to his son's, his frustration mounting. "Don't touch me!" he shouted, pushing Chip's hand away. The sudden movement sent a shockwave of pain through his jaw. He whimpered as he leaned back. Sandy saw the flash of anger in Plankton's eye. "Chip, give your dad some space," she suggested calmly. Chip's eyes widened, and he took a step back, his face a mask of hurt. Karen's heart ached. Hanna looked shocked, her hands clutching her sudoku book to her chest. "Plankton," she began, her voice shaking. "I said don't touch me!" Plankton yelled again, his voice echoing through the small room. His body was wracked with pain and frustration, and the sudden influx of people and stimuli was too much to handle. Hanna took a deep breath and stepped forward, her movements slow and deliberate. "Plankton, it's okay," she said calmly. "It's okay, ju—" "NO!" Plankton's voice boomed through the room, his body shaking with anger. "I don't want anyone touching me!" Karen stepped closer, her voice soothing. "Plankton, it's okay. You're just in pain. Remember?" she asked, her hand reaching for a plush toy. Plankton swiped it away, his fury building. "No, I don't want that!" His eye darted around the room, his breaths quick and shallow. The pain from his surgery was now secondary to the storm of emotions inside his mind. He was a creature of routine and predictability, and the sudden influx of new faces and sensations was more than he could bear.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 17 Karen stepped into the hallway, her eyes scanning for Hanna. She found her in the kitchen, still clutching her Sudoku book, looking lost and confused. "What did you say to Plankton?" Karen demanded, her voice firm but controlled. Hanna's gaze snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice trembling. "What did you say to him that made him so upset?" Karen's words were measured, but her anger was palpable. Hanna's cheeks flushed. "I just tried to help," she protested. "He was in pain and—" "What. Did. You. Say?" Karen's voice was like ice, her eyes boring into Hanna. The room felt smaller, the air heavier with tension. "Well," Hanna began, her throat dry. "I just pointed out that you could do so much better than someone like Plankton. I mean, you're so kind and patient, and he's..." The slur slipped from her mouth, echoing the one Chip had used so carelessly before. The air in the room grew heavy with tension. Karen's face contorted with rage, her hands balled into fists at her sides. "How dare you?" she spat. "How dare you speak to him like that?" Hanna's eyes widened, seeing the fury in Karen's expression. "It's just the truth," she stuttered. "You know it's true. You're too good for him. Everyone knows it. I wanted him to realize that." Karen's voice was low and dangerous. "You will never speak to him like that again," she said, each word enunciated carefully. "Do you understand?" Hanna took a step back, intimidated by the fire in Karen's eyes. "But... but he's-" "Plankton is my husband," Karen interrupted, her voice sharp. "And he's the most important person in my life. If you can't accept him..." Karen sighed. "When Plankton was born," she began, her tone softening. "He was a perfectly normal baby, but there was a... complication. During delivery, his head got stuck. It... it caused his brain to be deprived of oxygen and blood flow for a few moments too long. The pressure was too much." She swallowed hard, fighting back tears. "That's what led to this condition, not a choice he made. And I wouldn't trade him for anyone else in the world. It's not anything that could've been controlled, but that childbirth resulted in my husband's disability, which is autism." Hanna's eyes grew wide with shock, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my Neptune, I had no idea," she whispered. "I didn't realize he actually had a condition." Her voice was barely audible, the weight of her ignorance heavy in the air. Karen's eyes searched Hanna's face. "Yes, and so what you said was incredibly hurtful." Hanna's eyes filled with remorse, her shoulders slumping. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears. "I never meant to... I just thought I was being honest." Her voice cracked with the realization. Karen's anger dissipated a bit, replaced by a deep sadness. "Honesty without empathy can be cruel," she said softly. "But now that you know, you can do better." Hanna nodded, her gaze downcast. "I'll apologize," she whispered. But Karen was already thinking of Plankton, alone in his room, feeling like a burden. She turned and walked back to the bedroom, her heart heavy with the weight of the conversation. When she entered, Plankton was exactly as she'd left him: curled up, staring at the wall. "Hey," Karen said gently, sitting down beside him. "I talked to Hanna." He didn't respond. "She's sorry," Karen continued. Plankton's eye flicked to hers, his expression unreadable. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice hollow. "We know it's true." The doubt in his voice was a knife in Karen's heart. "No, it's not," she said fiercely. "I love you, Plankton. You are not a burden. You are a miracle, a beautiful, wonderful person, and I am so lucky to have you in my life." She took his hand, her grip firm and reassuring. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay?" Plankton's eye searched hers, his doubt battling with the love he saw there. "But she's..." "Hanna is wrong," Karen interrupted. "You're not anything like what she said. You're smart and funny and sassy and... perfect. Perfect for me." She leaned in closer, her voice a gentle whisper. "You're everything I never knew I needed until I fell in love with you." Plankton's body relaxed slightly, his gaze flickering towards her. "But what if..." he began, his voice trailing off. "What if I can't be a good enough husband to yo-" "Don't," Karen said, cutting him off gently. "You are a wonderful husband, and everything I could ever want. Your autism is one part of what makes you special, Plankton. It's not something to be ashamed of, or something that makes you less than. It's just how you are." She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "And I love all of you." Plankton felt a tear slip down his cheek. "But what if I can't... understand you? Or what if I hurt you?" His voice was small, filled with fear. Karen leaned in, her eyes filled with warmth. "You don't," she assured him. "Because we're in this together. And I'll always be here to help you through the hard parts, just like I know you'd do for me." She paused, a sad smile playing on her lips. "You know, when we first met, I didn't know about your autism. But once I did, it didn't make me love you less, it just made me love you more." Plankton's eye searched hers, his doubt slowly fading. "But sometimes..." he whispered. "Sometimes, it's hard." Karen nodded, her heart breaking for him. "I know it is, sweetie," she said softly. "But we figure it out together, okay?" Just then, Hanna came in the room to apologize. Her eyes were red from crying, and she looked genuinely regretful. "Plankton, I'm so sorry," she began, her voice quavering. "I didn't know... it was a slur. I was only trying to keep peace, but I was wrong. I'm sorry for the hurtful things I said." Plankton's gaze remained on the floor, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. Karen's words of love and support were comforting, but Hanna's apology was a surprise. He felt a pang of guilt for not correcting Hanna earlier, but his own fear of rejection was a powerful silencer. "I didn't know," Hanna continued, her voice sincere. "I had no idea it would hurt you like that." Plankton slowly lifted his head, his single eye meeting hers. "I see," he said, his voice still weak from the emotional turmoil. "But what do you want me to do, just sit around and feel sorry for you? Nobody cares if you throw a fit, Hanna!" He says, repeating her own insults. The room was silent for a moment before Hanna spoke again, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean it like that. I just didn't underst--" But Plankton didn't let her finish. "You just wanna get on Karen's good side don't you? Don't deny what you said to me!" Hanna's eyes filled with tears, and she nodded. "I know I was wrong, Plankton. I'm truly sorry," she whispered. Karen's heart ached for both of them, the pain of misunderstanding thick in the air. She knew that Hanna's words had been born out of ignorance, not malice. But the hurt they'd caused was real and Plankton's having none of it. "Why should I believe you?" he asked, his voice low. "After all, I'm just a problematic burden right? You had the nerve to—" "No," Hanna interrupted, her voice firm. "That's not true. I'm the one who should be ashamed." She took a deep breath. "I've been ignorant, and I'm sorry. I didn't know what it's like for—" "For what?" Plankton challenged, his anger resurfacing. "For someone like me, who doesn't know how to behave?" His voice was louder now, his body tense. Hanna flinched at his words. "You think I don't know what people say behind my back?" He spat. "You think I'm just a slur?" Hanna stood there, her eyes brimming with tears, her expression contrite. But Plankton couldn't find it in himself to forgive her so easily. "I do accept you," Hanna stuttered. "I just didn't know how to handle-" "Handle what?" Plankton's voice was sharp, the anger threatening to boil over. "How to handle someone who doesn't fit your perfect little mold?" Karen's grip on his hand tightened, her silent plea for calm going unheard. "And Karen's free to be with whoever she likes, so let her choose where her loyalties lie. I heard you say Karen chose you over me; but was that before or after you explained how unlovable I--" "Plankton, we all need to learn from this. Hanna's apology is genuine, yet she needs to understand what she said was wrong," Karen said, cutting through the tension. Hanna nodded, her eyes still on Plankton. "I'm sorry for my ignorance. I never knew how much my words could hurt. I'll do better." Her voice was sincere, and Plankton felt a flicker of something like forgiveness. But the pain was still raw, and he wasn't ready to let go of his anger just yet.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 8 "Chip!" Karen's voice cuts through the air like a knife, her eyes wide with alarm. Chip, realizing his mistake, goes to hug his dad. "Sorry," he says, going up to Plankton, who puts his arm out to stop him. Sandy, oblivious to Plankton's overload, grabs his arm. "NO!" she yells, her voice sharp. "You do not push your son away like that!" Plankton flinches at her voice. He tries to pry his hand out of Sandy's, but her grip is firm. "Let me go," he says, his voice strained. But Sandy doesn't budge. "You listen to me, Plankton," she says, her eyes flashing. "You are not going to push aw-" But she's interrupted by another seizure, Plankton's body convulsing. Sandy's eyes go wide with fear, not knowing what to do. "What's happening?" she cries, finally letting go of his wrist. Karen's eyes flash with anger and desperation as she quickly moves to Plankton's side. She glares at Sandy. "It's a condition," she snaps. "And it's not for you to judge." Her voice is sharp, her frustration with Sandy's lack of understanding palpable. Sandy's eyes widen as she realizes her mistake, her hand flying to her mouth. "What," she murmurs. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-" But Karen's fury cuts her off. "You didn't mean to what?" she snaps. "To bombard Plankton with your yelling? To make him feel like he has to be touched?" Her eyes bore into Sandy, sizzling with accusation. "This is why we don't tell people," she says, her voice shaking. Sandy's eyes fill with remorse as she takes in the sight of Plankton's trembling form. "I didn't know," she whispers, her voice shaking with regret. "I'm sorry, Karen. I didn't mean to..." Her words trail off as she realizes the depth of her mistake. Karen's face is a mask of sadness and anger as she tends to Plankton, her eyes never leaving Sandy. "You didn't mean to what?" she says, each word cutting through the silence like a knife. "To make Plankton feel guilty for Chip's ignorance? He has autism, Sandy." Her voice is low, but it carries the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "This is why we don't tell people, Sandy. This is why." Sandy's face falls, her complexion paler than the white walls of the room. "Autism?" she repeats, her voice barely a whisper. She's heard of it, of course, but never considered that Plankton's quirks could be more than just quirks. She feels a pang of guilt for her insensitivity. Karen nods, her eyes brimming with tears. "Yes," she says, her voice thick with sadness. "He's been dealing with it his entire life. And we've worked so hard to make sure he's comfortable, to help him cope." She looks at Sandy, her gaze pleading. Her voice cracks as she says it, her heart breaking for her husband. Sandy's eyes fill with tears as she looks at her friend. "Karen," she whispers. "I'm so sorry." She takes a step back, realizing the harm she's caused. "I had no idea. I didn't mean to..." Her words trail off as she sees the pain etched on Karen's face. Karen's expression is a storm of emotions - anger, sadness, and a deep-seated frustration. "You didn't know," she says, her voice flat. "But now you do. And you see what it does to him." She nods towards Plankton, who's still shaking on the bed, his eye squeezed shut as he tries to fight off the seizure. Sandy's eyes fill with tears as she nods, her heart racing. Karen takes a deep breath, her gaze still on Plankton. "Just be there," she says, her voice tired. "Don't push him. Don't make him feel... less." Sandy nods again, her eyes fixed on Plankton as Karen continues to help him through the seizure. Her perception of him shifts, the layers of bravado and ambition stripped away to reveal the man beneath the madness. As the seizure subsides, Plankton opens his eye to find Sandy still hovering, looking at him with a mix of fear and regret. He feels exposed, his most private vulnerability laid bare before his wife's best friend. He takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. "I'm sorry," Sandy whispers, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I didn't know." Plankton's gaze remains on the floor, his body still trembling slightly. "It's not for you to know." Sandy feels the sting of his words, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and sadness. "I just wanted to help," she murmurs, her eyes filling with tears. But Plankton can't bear the weight of her pity, his own anger a shield. He turns away from her, his body rigid with tension. "Plankton," she says softly, her hand hovering in the space between them. "I'm here." But Plankton flinches at the touch, his body tightening. "No," he says, his voice firm. Sandy's eyes widen with hurt as she withdraws her hand. "But, I just wanted to-" "No," Plankton says, his voice firm. The seizure has passed, but his emotions are still raw, his body still shaking from the tremors. Karen's heart breaks as she sees the rejection on Sandy's face, but she understands Plankton's need for space. She steps in, placing a hand on Sandy's arm. "Let's give him some time," she whispers, her gaze never leaving Plankton's closed-off form. Sandy nods, her eyes brimming with tears as she backs away slowly, not wanting to cause any more stress.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 10 Karen felt his grip on her hand loosen, his body relaxing completely as his eye finally closed. She watched as Nurse Cherry and Dr. McTentacles exchanged nods of confirmation. Plankton was asleep. So they put the IV in as they remove the mask. The mask had now been replaced by the clear plastic IV tube, snaking into his arm, keeping him asleep and pain-free. Karen watched the surgical instruments glint in the bright lights, watching his mouth open wide, his face slack and unaware of the invasion happening. The nurse had explained that he'd wake up disoriented or loopy, so Karen held onto his hand. She watched as Dr. McTentacles' tentacles moved with precision, his beak working in sync with the tools to pull the wisdom teeth out. Karen's gaze was locked on her husband's face. Plankton remained still, the only indication that he was alive being the soft snores that escaped his open mouth. The surgery was quick, Dr. McTentacles working efficiently. Karen felt a mix of fear and admiration as she watched the tentacles dance around Plankton's mouth, pulling and poking with a grace that seemed almost inhuman. The teeth were out in no time, and the nurse handed them to the doctor in a trash bin before removing the IV. Nurse Cherry then moved to stitch him up. "Dissolving sutures," she said, producing a tiny bottle and a needle. "They're designed to dissolve over time, reducing the need for a follow-up appointment." Karen nodded, her gaze fixed on the nurse's hands as she began the meticulous task of sealing Plankton's gums. The stitches looked like tiny threads of spun sugar, disappearing as they were woven into the fabric of his mouth. Each stitch was placed with the utmost care, as if Nurse Cherry was crafting a delicate piece of art. As the surgery concluded, Karen felt the weight of anxiety lift slightly. Plankton's breathing remained steady, his snores growing softer. She watched as Dr. McTentacles' tentacles retracted, the surgical tools placed back into their respective trays with a satisfying clink. The nurse, with a gentle smile, began to pack Plankton's mouth with gauze. It looked so foreign, those stark white cotton squares, nestled against the redness of his gums. Karen felt a swell of protectiveness as she watched them carefully tuck each one into place. When Plankton started to drool in his sleep, a tiny line of saliva snaking down his chin, Karen couldn't help but smile despite the gravity of the situation. The sight of him so defenseless and at peace, contrasted sharply with his usual hyperactive self, brought a tenderness to her heart. She reached over with a soft cloth and gently wiped it away. The surgery had gone well, better than she had dared hope for. But now came the next part- recovery. Nurse Cherry had warned her that Plankton might have some funny reactions to the anesthesia. "It can affect people differently," she'd said, her voice gentle. "Some get a bit... loopy." Now, as Plankton's snores grew quieter and his breathing evened out, Karen couldn't help but wonder what the nurse meant by "loopy." Would he wake up babbling nonsense, or maybe think he could fly? "Don't worry," the nurse whispered to Karen as she cleaned up the surgical area. "It's normal. The anesthesia can make people say and do some pretty strange things. Just remember it's not him, it's the drugs." The nurse then let Sandy in. "Chip's still in the waiting room." Sandy went over by Karen. Sandy's eyes searched Plankton's sleeping face, his features relaxed in a way she'd never seen before. He looked almost... peaceful. "What happens now?" she asked Karen, her voice hushed. Karen's gaze never left his face. "We wait for him to wake up," she said. So Sandy simply held Karen's other hand, offering silent support. Plankton's mouth was swollen as he slowly roused from his drug-induced slumber. His eye fluttered open, his pupil dilated and unfocused. "Wahh... wh-wha was’at?" he slurred. Karen chuckled, relief washing over her. "It's okay, dear," she said, her voice soft. "You had your wisdom teeth out." Plankton's eye widened, his mind a foggy haze. "Teethies?" he mumbled. He reached a tentative hand to his mouth. "Don't touch," Karen said, smiling. She knew the feeling of confusion was part of the anesthesia's charm. "M'head's allll... swimmy," he murmured, his speech slurred from the surgery and numbness. "It's okay," Karen assured, her voice soothing. "You're just waking up from your nap. Remember?" Sandy watched as Plankton blinked several times, his eye struggling to focus. "Yeah, the... the tish," he said slowly, his voice still thick. Karen nodded. "That's right. Now, let's get you sitting up," she said, gently helping him upright. As Plankton's vision cleared, he looked around the room, his gaze finally landing on Sandy. His face twisted with confusion before he spoke. "Ishii?" Sandy's expression was a mix of concern and curiosity. "Hi, Plankton," she said, her voice tentative. She didn't know what to expect from his post-surgery state. Plankton squinted at her, his eye unfocused. "You... youw heaw?" he asked, his voice still slurred. "Yes," Sandy said, her smile gentle. "It's me, Sandy." Plankton's gaze searched her face, then seemed to clear a bit. "Oh," he said, still groggy. The nurse returned with instructions for his recovery. "Keep the gauze in for an hour, then remove it. We put extra of the dissolving stitches in due to his history of spasms. Take it easy today. Plankton can nap, and just soft foods." Karen nodded. Plankton, still a bit out of it, giggled to himself. "Soft food," he murmured, his eye still unfocused. "Nurse, didst you shay... jelly?" Karen and Sandy couldn't help but chuckle at his slurred speech. Nurse Cherry nodded, smiling. "Yes, jelly is perfect," she said.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 12 Plankton's hand moved slowly to cover Chip's, his thumb tracing circles over his son's knuckles. "Youw... youw shy shweet," he murmured. Chip looked down at their hands, his eyes wide. Karen watched the two of them, her heart swelling. The anesthesia had stripped away Plankton's usual defensiveness, allowing for a rare moment of unfiltered affection. Sandy felt a lump form in her throat, her eyes misting over as she took in the tender scene. "Chip," Plankton murmured, his voice slurred but earnest. "Youw my... my... bestest shon." Chip looked up at his father, surprise and confusion etched on his features. He'd never heard Plankton call him that before, his usual greetings consisting of 'hello' or a grumble about his experiments. But here his father was, with his mouth puffed up and his words slurred, telling him he was his best son. Chip felt his cheeks warm. "Daddy," he said, his voice shaky. "I love you too." Plankton's eye grew even softer. "I'm... I'm shorry," he slurred, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm shorry for... for not sayin' ith moreth." Sandy's heart clenched at his words. It was clear that the anesthesia was drawing out feelings he normally kept hidden. The door burst open, and in bounced SpongeBob. "Plankton!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "What happened to your mouth?" Karen and Sandy shared a look, trying not to laugh. "He had his wisdom teeth out," Karen explained. SpongeBob's eyes grew even wider, if possible. "Wow, that sounds... interesting," he said, his innocent curiosity shining through. He hopped over to the couch, his spongy body bouncing. Plankton, still in his loopy state, looked at Sponge Bob with a newfound interest. "Spongemah- I... Youw cane to thee me?" Sponge Bob nodded, his eyes sparkling. "Of course, Plankton!" He sat down beside him, his curiosity getting the better of him. Plankton's gaze went to his son, then back to Sponge Bob. "You know, Sponge Bob," he began, his speech slurring slightly, "I hab... thimgs thaf maketh me... thpecial." He paused, his eye drifting off to the side as he searched for the right words. "I hab... autism," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. Sponge Bob's smile didn't waver. "That's cool, Plankton!" he exclaimed. "We're all special in our own way." Plankton's dazed smile broadened, and he reached out with his free hand to pat Sponge Bob's shoulder. "Thath's... tha's wight," he said, his fingers lingering for a moment before dropping to his side again. Sandy watched the interaction with a mix of amusement and surprise. It was clear that Plankton was still heavily influenced by the anesthesia, but she could see the genuine warmth in his eye as he spoke to Sponge Bob. It was as if the drugs had unlocked a part of him that was usually hidden from view. "SpongeBob," Plankton mumbled, his speech still slurred. "Youw... youw my... my beshtest fwend." He leaned over, wrapping his other arm around Sponge Bob. The sponge looked slightly startled but quickly recovered, returning the embrace. "Aw, Plankton," Sponge Bob said, patting his back gently. "You're my best friend too!" His eyes lit up, a wide smile spreading across his face. Karen and Sandy watched as Plankton, still loopily dazed, clung to Sponge Bob, his usual cunning and scheming persona replaced by something softer, sweeter. It was a rare sight indeed, one that made them both feel a sense of wonderment and warmth. "Bestest fren's... shhare shecrets," Plankton murmured, his speech still slurred. "Well your secret's safe with me, but I gotta get going," SpongeBob said, his voice filled with understanding and kindness. He gently pried himself from Plankton's embrace, his smile never wavering as he left. The room fell quiet as Sponge Bob's footsteps faded away. Plankton's eye closed again, his breathing evening out as the drugs continued to wear off. Karen and Sandy exchanged glances, each one filled with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something that felt like a glimpse into Plankton's true heart. "I've never seen him like this," Sandy murmured, her voice filled with wonder. "It's like he's a different person." Karen nodded. "The anesthesia can bring out unexpected things," she said. "But it's good to see him so open." Chip leaned back into the sofa, his gaze fixed on his father. "I didn't know you felt that way," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's hand found its way to his son's, his grip firm. "I do," he managed to say, his speech still thick. "Alwayth." Karen's heart melted at the sight of them, so comfortable in their makeshift embrace. It was as if the walls Plankton so meticulously built had crumbled, if only for a moment. Chip looked up at his mother, his eyes glistening. "Is he okay?" he asked Karen. "He's just coming out of it," Karen assured, her voice gentle. "The medicine makes people say and do funny things." Sandy nodded in understanding, her eyes never leaving Plankton.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 16 Plankton then heard Karen come in. "Hey; I'm just checking on you," she said gently, not aware that Hanna bullied him, unaware of what's said. Plankton's throat tightened. "I'm fine," he murmured. Karen's eyes searched his face, looking for the truth. "You don't have to lie to me, sweetie," she said softly. "Is everything okay? You know I'm here for you.." But Hanna's words echoed in his head, a toxic whisper that threatened to shatter the fragile bond he had with his wife. "Just tired," he managed to say, his voice small. Karen nodded, her expression filled with concern. "Okay," she said. "But if you wanna ta—" "I'm fine," Plankton said, his voice harsher than intended. Karen's smile faltered. The weight of Hanna's words was too heavy for him to ignore, his thoughts a jumble of anger and hurt. He pushed the plush toy away, the softness now a painful reminder of the care he wasn't sure he truly deserved. Karen noticed the change in his tone and stepped closer. "Plankton, what happened?" she asked, her voice filled with worry. "Was it something I said?" Plankton's eye flickered to hers, his anger replaced by sadness. "No, Karen," he said, his voice smaller than usual. "It was just... just forget it." Karen knew Plankton's autism made him sensitive to certain words and tones, but she couldn't pinpoint what had triggered him. The room was quiet, the tension thick. Karen sat down on the bed, her hand reaching for his. "Plank-" He jerked away, his voice sharp. "Don't," he said. Karen's heart sank. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice trembling with concern. She didn't know what Hanna said. Plankton looked away, his eye brimming with unshed tears. "It's... it's nothing," he murmured. But the hurt in his voice was unmistakable. Karen's heart broke. "Plankton," she said, her voice soft. "You can tell me anything. I'm here for you." But Plankton wasn't so sure, not after Hanna gaslit him. He swallowed hard, the pain in his chest a dull ache. "It's just... it's nothing," he repeated, his voice a whisper. But the hurt was evident, his body language screaming his internal turmoil. Karen's heart raced, her mind whirring as she tried to understand what had changed. Her hand hovered in the air, unsure if it was safe to touch him again. "Was it something someone said to you?" she ventured, her voice tentative. Plankton's gaze remained fixed on the wall, his body tense. He took a deep breath, the anger still simmering just beneath the surface. "It's Hanna," he finally said, his voice barely above a murmur. "What about Hanna?" Karen asked, her eyes searching his. "She said... she said that you only married me out of pity," Plankton whispered, his voice trembling. Karen's face fell, her heart heavy with disbelief. "What?" she exclaimed, her hand flying to her mouth. "That's not true," she said firmly. "I love you, Plankton. You know tha-" But Plankton was lost in his own thoughts, the pain of Hanna's accusation cutting deep. "And that... that you deserve someone better," he added, his voice small. Karen's eyes filled with anger. How could her friend say such a thing? "Plankton," she said, her voice steady. "Look at me." His gaze met hers, his eye red-rimmed and full of doubt. "I chose to marry you because you're the most amazing person I've ever met. Your autism is part of who you are, and I love all of you. You're not a burden to me, you're a blessing. Hanna was out of line, and I'll talk to her about it." But Plankton couldn't shake off the hurt. He knew Karen meant well, but the seeds of doubt Hanna had sown grew in the fertile soil of his insecurity. "I know you're just trying to make me feel better," he mumbled, his gaze still on the wall. "But it's true, isn't it? Why else would Hanna tell me that you've been hiding how much better off you could be without me?" Karen felt her blood boil. "What did she say to you?" she demanded, her voice tight. Plankton flinched, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. "It's okay," she said gently. "You can tell me." He took another deep breath, the plush toy squeezed tightly in his hand. "She said that I'm uh, that same slur Chip used, and that you're just too nice to leave me. She told me how you deserve better, how no one could truly love someone like me." His voice broke, the pain in his words like a knife to her heart. "I'm sorry, Karen. I just never knew you felt that wa-" But Karen was already on her feet, her eyes flashing. "That's it," she said, her voice cold. "I'm going to talk to Hanna right now." Plankton tried to sit up, his hand reaching out to her. "Karen, no-" "I can't believe she said that," Karen fumed, her hands shaking with anger. "I'll set her straight." Her mind raced with what Hanna could have possibly told Plankton to make him feel so small and unloved. She knew his autism made him vulnerable to misunderstanding, but this was beyond the pale. Her heart ached for her husband, who had been through so much already. Plankton was already so sensitive to the way others perceived him, and Hanna's words had only served to amplify his fears.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 19 He looked at Karen, his confusion clear. "What happened?" he asks her. Karen took a deep breath, preparing herself for the task of explaining the past few minutes. "You had a seizure, baby," she said, keeping her voice calm and steady. "But it's over now, and you're okay." Plankton blinked slowly, his eye still hazy. He looked around the room, his gaze landing on Hanna. "You're here," he said, his voice filled with mortification and anxiety. Hanna nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm here," she whispered, her voice tentative. Plankton's face twisted into a frown, his thoughts racing. He didn't remember her being here during the seizure. He didn't want her pity. He didn't want her witnessing what ever may have happened. His heart raced, his mind spinning. What all did he do in front of her? Hanna looked at him, her eyes full of concern and something else, regret? "You were just playing with your star," she said gently, trying to ease his distress. "And you even talked about how I was like pretty bubblegum; rememb-" "No," Plankton interrupted. He didn't want Hanna to see his vulnerability, especially after what she'd said about him. The room was silent, the tension palpable. Karen watched them both, her heart torn. Hanna's expression was a mixture of regret and fear, while Plankton's was closed off. "I don't know if I can forgive you, Hanna," Plankton finally said, his voice no longer slurred. Hanna's eyes filled with tears, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I don't blame you," she said softly. "But I hope you can find it in your heart to give me a chance to make it up to you." Plankton looked at her, his gaze unreadable. Karen knew that forgiveness was a process, and Plankton needed time. "You don't have to decide right now," she said. "We can talk about it more when you're feeling better." Plankton nodded, his gaze still fixed on the star. "But I don't remember this star," he said, his voice filled with confusion. Hanna's heart sank. "It's okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's a toy Karen got for you to help you feel safe and lo---" "No," Plankton interrupted, his voice sharp. "I don't remember any of this." His hand tightened around the plush toy, his knuckles white. "I don't remember anything about this!" Karen knew Plankton wouldn't remember the comfort Hanna brought during his seizure, the gentle guidance to focus on the star. He didn't remember her soothing voice, her calm in his chaos. It was like it had never happened. Hanna's eyes searched his, desperate for a flicker of understanding, a sign that he knew she was sorry. But all she saw was confusion and fear, the same look he'd given her when she'd first accidentally used that slur. Karen stepped in. "Do you remember our talk about how sometimes after a seizure, things can be a bit fuzzy?" Hanna felt another twinge of guilt. "It's okay," Karen said, sitting next to him on the bed. "It's normal for your memory to be a bit fuzzy coming out of a seizure, Plankton." He looked at her, his eye searching hers. "But I don't remember you or Hanna interacting," he said, his voice shaky. "I just remember... I dunno." Karen nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "You weren't fully conscious, sweetie. It's like when you wake up from a deep sleep." Plankton's frown deepened. He didn't like not knowing, not remembering. It made his chest tight, his heart race. He knew he could trust Karen, but Hanna was still a question mark, her earlier words echoing in his mind. Hanna reached out to him again, her hand hovering in the air before touching his shoulder lightly. "I'm here for you, Plankton," she said, her voice shaky with emotion. Plankton stiffened at the contact, his senses still on high alert. He wasn't used to being touched like that, not without warning. "No," he said, his voice sharp. "I don't like it." Hanna flinched, her hand retreating quickly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. Karen put her hand on Hanna's shoulder. "Remember, Hanna, we need to respect his boundaries. It's part of who he is." Hanna nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "I know, Karen. I just want to help." Karen squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "I know you do, but we need to do it his way." Plankton looked up at Hanna, his expression a mix of anger and confusion. "Why?" he asked. "Why'd you say those things?" Hanna took a deep breath, her voice trembling. "I didn't know," she said. "I didn't know what it was like for you. I didn't underst--" "Understand what?" Plankton's voice was sharp, cutting through the air. "That I'm different?" He threw the star aside, his body tense with anger. "That I can't just be like whatever you think I should be?" Hanna's eyes filled with tears. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way," she said, her voice cracking. "I just... I didn't know." Plankton's chest heaved with each ragged breath he took. "Well, now you do," he said, his voice cold. "Being someone you can't even bother to understand." The room was heavy with tension, each of them lost in their own world of thoughts. Karen's heart ached for both of them, knowing how much Plankton craved acceptance, and how much Hanna wished she could take back her words. "Maybe," Karen began, her voice tentative, "we should talk about it." Hanna nodded, her eyes glued to Plankton. "I'm here to listen," she said, her voice filled with genuine remorse. Plankton looked at her, his expression still guarded. "You know what, Hanna?" he said, his voice taking on a syrupy sweetness that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I forgive you." Hanna's face lit up with relief, but Karen knew that tone. It was the one he used when he was trying to cover his hurt. "Thank you, Plankton," Hanna breathed, her eyes brimming with tears. "I really am sorry, you know that right?" Plankton nodded, his smile forced. "Of course," he said, his voice sticky with false cheer. "It's all water under the bridge." Karen watched the two of them, her heart heavy. The fake sweetness in Plankton's voice was a defense mechanism, one he'd developed over the years of navigating a world that often didn't understand his condition. She knew his words weren't genuine, his anger and pain still bubbling just below the surface. But she stayed silent. But Hanna, oblivious, took his words at face value. "I'm so grateful, Plankton," she said, her voice choking. "I'll do better." Plankton nodded, his expression still a mask. "I know you will," he said, his voice too bright. "You're always so kind, never letting me down." His sarcasm was lost on Hanna, who took his words as genuine. He knew she was trying, but the hurt went deeper than a simple apology could mend. So he played along, his heart feeling heavier with each forced smile. "You're the best, Hanna," Plankton said, his voice dripping with a sugary sweetness that didn't match the bitterness in his soul. "Always looking out for me." Karen watched, knowing better than to interrupt. Hanna's eyes searched his, desperate for a sign that he meant it. "Really, Plankton?" she asked, hopeful. "You know I'm here for you, right?" Plankton's smile grew, his words sticky with sarcasm. "Always, Hanna," he said, his voice dripping with patronizing kindness. "You're like a knight in shining armor, ready to save me from my own autistic self." Hanna's eyes searched his, uncertain of his meaning. "What do you mean, Plankton?" she asked, her voice trembling with hope. He leaned back into the pillows, his expression smug. "You know, always ready to fix what's not broken," he said, his eye still not quite meeting hers. "I just want to help," Hanna whispered, her voice cracking. Plankton nodded, his smile still too sweet. "And I'm so lucky to have you," he said, his tone laced with a patronizing sarcasm that made Karen's heart ache. Hanna, though, seemed to miss the undertones, her face lighting up at his words. "Really, Plankto-" "Oh, absolutely," he interrupted, his voice a knife wrapped in cotton. "You're like my personal superhero, swooping in to save me from the horrors of being who I am." His eye flitted around the room, avoiding contact with Hanna's hopeful gaze. "It's so... noble of you." The sarcasm in his tone was thick, a bitterness seeping through every word. Hanna looked at him, confused. "What do you mean, Plankton?" she asked, her voice soft. "You know I just want-" "Oh, I know," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You want to fix me. Like I'm some kind of project you can just whip into shape with your magic wand of 'normalcy'." Hanna's eyes widened, her heart sinking at his words. "That's not what I meant," she protested, but Plankton was on a roll, his anger giving him a sharpness he rarely displayed.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 2 But Plankton's expression was not one of relief. His face flushed red with embarrassment as reality crashed in on him. He realized his son had seen him at his most vulnerable, caught in the grip of his condition. He jerked his hand away, the octopus falling to the floor. "What are you doing here?" he snapped. Chip took a step back, his hands up in a placating gesture. "I-I didn't mean to scare you," he stuttered. "I just... came ho-" "Why are you watching me like that?" he snarled. "You have no right to see me like this!" Karen stepped in, her voice steady. "Chip didn't mean to, love. He just came home early and found you in a seizure. It's ok. You know he loves you." Plankton's anger was a storm quickly building. He glared at Chip, his eye wild. "Get out!" he shouted. "This isn't your business!" The words hung in the air, heavy with emotion. Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his cheeks burning. He backed away, clutching the stuffed octopus. "Dad, I just wanted to help," he murmured. But Plankton was beyond reason, fear and embarrassment having turned to anger. "I said get out!" Plankton yelled again, his voice echoing in the small room. Chip's lip trembled, but he didn't dare disobey. He turned and fled, his feet pounding on the hallway floor, leaving his parents behind. Once in the safety of his room, Chip slammed the door shut and sank to the floor, his back pressed against it. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he held the octopus to his chest. It felt strange, his dad's reaction with such fury directed at him. Karen turned to Plankton, knowing the storm of emotion her son had just felt. "It's okay, it's okay," she whispered, her eyes filled with concern. "You're okay. Chip's okay. It was just a surprise for everyone." Plankton took a deep, shaky breath, his mind racing. He knew he had overreacted, but the fear of being exposed had taken hold. He had always been so careful, so private about his condition. Now, Chip knew his secret. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely audible. Karen sat beside him, her hands resting lightly on his arm. "You don't have to apologize," she said, her voice calm. "But you do need to talk to him. He's scared and confused." Plankton nodded, his gaze flickering to the floor. He knew she was right. He had always been so careful about his neurodivergence, meticulous about not letting others see. But Chip had seen him, and now there was no going back. He took a deep breath and turned to Karen. "You're right," he said firmly. "I need to talk to him." He knew the conversation would be hard, but he owed it to Chip. His heart heavy, he walked to the door. When he entered Chip's room, the air was thick with silence. Chip sat on his bed, his back to the door, clutching the octopus tightly. Plankton's heart clenched at the sight of his son's hunched figure. He knew the hurt he had caused. "Chip," he began, his voice raspy. "I'm s-sorry." He took another step forward, but his son didn't move. "I didn't mean to scare you, or to shout. It's just..." His words trailed off. How could he explain the fear and vulnerability that had consumed him? "I know you didn't mean to intrude," he said, his voice softer now. "But seeing me like that...it's not something I wa-" "You're quirky," Chip cut in, not turning around. "And now I know why." Plankton swallowed hard, his heart racing. He had never talked to Chip about his neurodisability before, not in such direct terms. "Yes," he admitted. "But I'm still yo-" "I know," Chip nods. "But why didn't you tell me you were like this? Why didn't mom ever just tell me you're...?" Then a slur slipped out before he could stop it, a term he'd heard used before, but never really understood the weight of. Plankton's breath hitched, and his eye grew wide. The room was suddenly colder, as if his heart had frozen. Without another word, he stood abruptly, leaving Chip's room. He went in his room after slamming the door shut. Karen looked up. "So Plankton, ho-" But Karen cut her own question short upon the sight of her husband's face. "Plankton, whaa-" Plankton's features were twisted in anger, a rage that seemed to pulse with each beat of his heart. "How could you say that?" he spat out, his eye flashing. "How could you both think that about me?" His voice was low, dangerously so, each word a blow that echoed in the quiet space. Karen, of course, didn't know what's been said. "What are you talking about, love?" But Plankton couldn't articulate the hurt that had just been unleashed. Karen, sensing the shift in the room, stepped closer, her hand reaching out. "Plankton, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. But Plankton flinched, his body retreating from her touch. "It's nothing," he muttered, his voice strained. He couldn't bear to repeat Chip's hurtful slur. So he turned away from Karen, his back to her, his shoulders rigid. The silence grew thick between them, a barrier she wasn't sure she could breach. "Plankton?" she asked again, her voice concerned. "What's go—" "I can't," he choked out, his eye stinging. "I can't tell you." His voice was barely a whisper, the words forced through a throat constricted by pain and shame. Karen's eyes search his face, her heart aching at his distress. "Is it about your condition?" she ventured gently. Plankton nodded, his back still to her. "Chip... thinks I'm...less than," his voice cracked. Karen inched closer. "Oh that's not tr-" But Plankton whirled on her, cutting her off. "Don't make excuses for him!" he shouted, his voice shaking with emotion. Karen took a step back, her eyes wide with shock. "I'm not making excuses," she said carefully. "I just want to know what hap–" But Plankton was beyond hearing her. His mind was a tumult of emotions: anger, hurt, and fear. He had worked so hard to keep his condition a secret, to shield himself from the cruelty of the world. And now, his own son had labeled him with a term so loaded with stigma and pain. "It's not right," he murmured, his fists clenching at his sides. "It's not right that he thinks that way. It's not right that anyone thinks that way!" Karen watched him, her eyes full of sadness. "Plankton, sweetie, come sit with me," she said softly, patting the space beside her.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 3 With a heavy sigh, Plankton collapsed onto the bed, his body shaking with the effort of holding back his tears. He buried his face in his hands, his shoulders heaving. Karen wrapped her arms around his shaking frame, holding him tightly. "You're not less than," she whispers. "What could Chip have possibly said to make you feel like that?" But Plankton remained silent, a painful reminder of the times he'd been taunted and misunderstood by those who didn't know him. He felt Karen's gentle touch on his shoulder, a silent offer of comfort that only made his throat tighten more. "It's okay," she said softly. "You can tell me. Whatever it is, we'll work through it." But Plankton was too lost in his own pain to share the specifics with her. The word hung in the air between them, a heavy weight that seemed to press down on his chest. He couldn't bring himself to repeat it, to give voice to the hurt that had been thrown at him. It was a reminder of all the times his differences had made him feel less than, all the times he'd been the but of jokes or the subject of whispers. Karen's eyes searched his, desperate to understand the pain she saw etched into his features. But Plankton couldn't find the words. He just sat there, his body shaking with the force of his unspoken grief. The silence stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, with a tremble in his voice, he spoke. "He said a word," he managed to get out. "A word that hurts more than you know." Karen's heart squeezed tightly in her chest. "What word?" she asked softly, afraid of what she might hear. "Just, don't defend him!" he roared. "Don't you dare defend him! I know you're just gonna say how he's a kid or doesn't know better, or that he didn't mean it; but that word cuts deeper than you could ever understand!" Plankton's fists clenched tightly, his knuckles white with the effort of not lashing out. Karen's eyes were filled with tears, her heart breaking at the raw emotion spilling from her husband. "What word?" she whispered, dread coiling in her stomach. He took a deep breath, his voice strained as he forced the word out. "Ret-" He choked, unable to complete it. He shook his head. "That word," he finally managed, his voice barely above a murmur. Karen's eyes widened in horror, understanding dawning on her. "Oh, no; Plankton," she breathed. "No." She pulled him closer, her own tears flowing freely now. "You're not that," she assured him fiercely. "You're brilliant, and kind, and the best father Chip co—" "Don't," Plankton whispered, his voice hoarse. "Don't say it's okay. It's not." Karen's heart broke further. "I'm s-sorry," she said, her voice trembling. "I-I'm sorry he said that. We need to talk to him," she said firmly. "He needs to underst--" But Plankton cut her off with a harsh shake of his head. "No," he whispered, his voice weak. "He doesn't get to see me like this. He doesn't get to hav—" "But he's our son," Karen interrupted gently. "And he loves you. He needs to know to never use that word again." Plankton's shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew she was right. He had to talk to Chip. He had to explain the hurt that the word caused. But the thought of facing his son, of explaining his fears and vulnerabilities, was almost too much to bear. "I can't do it," he whispered. "I just can't. He won't listen to me." Karen nodded, understanding his pain. "Then I'll go," she said, determined. "I'll talk to him, make him understand." With a heavy heart, she stood and walked to Chip's closed door. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation ahead. When she opened the door, she found Chip sitting on his bed. Her eyes searched her son's face, looking for signs of understanding or remorse. Instead, she found only a child lost in his own thoughts, the octopus still gripped tightly in his hand. "Chip," she began, her voice shaking with barely contained emotion. "What did you say to your father?" Chip looked up, his eyes innocent. "I just asked why you guys didn't tell me," he mumbled, not meeting her gaze. "But he got so mad.." Karen felt a mix of anger and sadness wash over her. "What exactly did you say to him?" she asked, her voice tight. "I don't know," Chip said, his voice small. "I just said why didn't you guys tell me he's like that. I said he's re---" he murmured, the weight of the slur heavy on his tongue. Karen's face contorted in anger. "How could you say such a thing?" she snapped. "Do you know what that word means? Do you have any idea how much pain it causes?" Chip shrunk under her glare, his eyes darting around the room as he searched for an escape from the intensity of her gaze. "It's just a word," he mumbled defensively. "I don't know why it's such a big de-" "It's not just a word, Chip," Karen said, cutting him off. Her voice was sharp, each syllable laced with disappointment. "It's a word that hurts people, that makes them feel less than who they are." She stepped closer, her eyes boring into his. "Do you know how much your father has suffered because of people calling him that?" Chip's eyes grew wide, the gravity of his words sinking in. He hadn't meant to hurt his dad, but now he realized the weight of his carelessness. "But I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I just didn't know what else to call it." Karen's expression softened slightly, her anger giving way to sadness. "Chip, sweetie, that word is not just some description," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "It's a word that has been used to hurt and belittle people like your dad for a long, long time." She sat beside him, placing a hand on his arm. "You have to understand that words have power. And when you use that power to wound someone, especially someone you love, it causes deep, deep pain."

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 9 Karen sighs. "It's almost noon, Plankton. Remember your biannual dental x-rays? We gotta get going. Sandy could you stay with Chip? We won't be too long." Karen helps him get ready, her movements efficient and caring. She knows the dentist can be a sensory trigger for him. Arriving at the dentist's office, the receptionist smiles politely. "Ah, Mr. Plankton," she says. "We've been expecting you." Plankton simply nods as they enter the waiting room. He starts rocking. Karen notices, her hand on his shoulder. "It's ok," she whispers. "Mr. Plankton?" The dentist's gentle voice echoes through the waiting room. Plankton and Karen follow the dentist to the x-ray area across the hall. Plankton's heart races as he's led into the room, his eye darting around, taking in the cold, sterile environment. The dentist, a squid named Dr. McTentacles, notices his distress and tries to soothe him. "It's ok, Mr. Plankton," he says gently. "It's a quick x-ray and you'll be done!" Plankton nods, trying to compose himself. "You're going to be ok," Karen whispers as the dentist prepares the machine. He allows the x-ray film touch his mouth, biting down as the images light up. Dr. McTentacles then removes the film. "All done! I'm gonna go back and look at these," he says, going out of Plankton's earshot with Karen in tow. "Mrs. Plankton," he starts, his tentacles tapping a screen. "Your husband's wisdom teeth are growing in. They're looking a bit... misaligned," he says, showing the images to Karen. Karen nods, her eyes scanning the x-rays. "What does that mean?" she asks, trying to keep her voice even. "It means," Dr. McTentacles says, "that they might cause some discomfort, or even other potential problems. We must consider extraction. I know he has sensory issues, so we'll need to approach this carefully." Karen nods. "When should we do it?" she asks. "As soon as possible," the dentist replies. "But we'll have to talk to Plankton about it. Make sure he's comfortable with the process. It's important that he feels safe." Karen nods again, her mind racing with the implications of surgery for Plankton. "We've got inhalational sedative/anaesthesia available, which should make it easier for him." Karen's eyes widen with relief at the mention of sedatives. "That... that sounds good," she says. "How soon can we...?" "We'll need to schedule another appointment," Dr. McTentacles says, his tentacles still tapping at the screen. "I have tomorrow open. It can be done here in my office, under unconsciousness." Karen nods, trying to absorb the information. She glances back at Plankton, his eye flickering as he looks around the room. "Tomorrow's fine," she says, her voice tight. As they walk back to the waiting area, Plankton's hand finds hers, his grip tight. "What did he say?" he asks, his voice strained. Karen's heart aches as she looks into his worried eye. "It's your wisdom teeth, dear," she says gently. "They're coming in a bit... funny." Plankton's grip on her hand tightens. "What does that mean?" he asks, his voice high with anxiety. "It means they might cause you some pain," Karen explains, keeping her voice calm and soothing. "But we're going to take care of it, okay? In the morning, we'll come back and the dentist will remove them." Plankton's eye widens in fear. "They're going to give you gas to help you sleep through it," Karen explains, her voice calm but firm. "You won't feel a thing. It's like... a nap. A nap that makes your mouth feel better when you wake up." Plankton nods, his grip loosening slightly. "A... a nap?" he repeats, his voice quivering. "Okay," he says, his shoulders dropping. Karen can see the trust in his eye, and she feels a wave of relief wash over her. "Come on," she says, her voice gentle. Plankton nods, his gaze on the floor as they leave the dentist's office. Once home, Plankton retreats to the corner of their bedroom, as Sandy and Chip come in. "So Karen, how was his dentist?" Sandy asks. Karen sighs. "We have to get his wisdom teeth out," she says. "Tomorrow early in the morning. You and Chip can be in the waiting room. They gave special permission to let me be with Plankton during the procedure." Early the next morning Karen drove them back to the dental office. Chip stayed with Sandy in the waiting area as Karen and Plankton followed Dr. McTentacles to his surgical exam office. The room was colder than the last, making Plankton shiver. Karen held his hand tightly, whispering reassurances. "It's okay, just a nap," she reminded him. The nurse, a crab named Nurse Cherry, looked at him with kind eyes. "Let's get you set up," she said, helping him onto the chair. Nurse Cherry placed a mask over his face, and he started to breathe in the sweet smelling gas. "Just a nap," Karen murmured, her voice getting further away. The room began to swim, and Plankton's body felt like it was sinking into the chair. The last thing he knew was the sound of his wife's comforting presence before everything disintegrated into nothing. Plankton's body grew limp as the anesthesia took hold.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 18 Karen squeezed his hand, a silent reminder of her support. She knew that Hanna's apology was a step, but it wasn't enough to erase the damage done. She looked at Hanna, her gaze firm. "You have to understand that what you said was incredibly hurtful, not just to Plankton, but to me too. Our love isn't something to be bargained with or judged." Hanna nodded, her eyes now filled with genuine shame. "I understand, Karen," she said. "I'm sorry for the pain I've caused." Karen nodded back, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "Good," she said simply. "Because Plankton is my everything." Plankton felt a warmth spread through him, despite the anger still simmering just below the surface. Karen had stood up for him, just like she always did. "Okay." Hanna reached out slowly, her hand hovering over Plankton's arm. He stiffened at the uninvited contact, his skin prickling with discomfort. "You okay, buddy?" she asked him, her voice tentative. Plankton felt a familiar tension in his chest, a tightness spreading through his body. The room seemed to close in on him, the lights too bright, the sounds too loud. Another seizure was approaching, and Karen noticed the change instantly. She knew the pain from wisdom teeth extraction and the touch from Hanna has been too much. Hanna watched as Plankton's body began to tense up, the signs of an impending seizure all too familiar to Karen. "What's happening? Plankton!" she asked, her voice filled with worry. But Karen was already in action, her movements quick and precise. She guided Hanna's hand away from Plankton, as Plankton's body began to convulse slightly, his eye rolling back. "Seizure," Karen murmured, as she knew the signs all too well. Hanna sat on the edge of his bed as Karen got his sensory box of fidget items. "Just stay calm," Karen said to Hanna. "This happens sometimes." Hanna's eyes were wide with fear, but she nodded. Plankton's seizure grew more intense, his limbs thrashing as his body tried to cope. "Let it in, let it wash over you." Karen says, grounding him slightly. The room grew quiet, except for the sound of his labored breathing. Hanna watched, her heart racing, feeling useless. Karen held out a plush toy, a green squishy star. "Look at the star, sweetie. Focus on the star. Look at the star, Plankton. Just the star." His body continued to convulse. Hanna watched, frozen as the plush star trembled in Karen's hand. "Look at the star, Plankton," Karen repeated, her voice calm and steady. "Find peace in the star." Plankton's eye flitted towards the toy, his breathing erratic. The sensory overload was intense, but he tried to follow Karen's guidance. As the seizure subsided, Plankton's tremors grew less intense, his gaze remaining fixed on the green star. He took deep breaths, trying to regain control of his body. Karen watched him, her own breathing matching his rhythm, willing him to find peace. Hanna sat there, her heart pounding in her chest, seeing the raw vulnerability of her friend's husband. She felt a deep sense of regret for her earlier words. "It's okay, baby," Karen whispered. She knew the aftermath was often a hard part for him, his body still reeling from the neurological storm, his sense of reality skewed. Plankton's eye focused slowly on the green star. As the seizure's grip weakened, he turned to it, his gaze hazy. "It's okay," Karen murmured. "You're okay now." His breathing grew steadier, but his mind was still semiconscious in confusion. The world around him was a blur of color and sound, his thoughts tangled and disjointed. "Plankton?" Hanna's voice was tentative. Plankton barely registered her words, semiconscious. He turned to her, his gaze hazy and his movements awkward. "Hi, Hans," he mumbled, his voice slurred. Karen exchanged a knowing look with Hanna. "Hi, Plankton," she said, her tone gentle. Plankton giggled to himself, his laughter sounding distant and slightly off-key. Karen smiled softly, recognizing his postictal loopiness. It was a common reaction for him from a seizure, his brain trying to find its bearings. He stared at the green star in his hand, his fingers playing with its soft fabric. "It's so... fluffy," he said, his voice full of wonder. Karen couldn't help but smile at his childlike fascination. "It's okay, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "Just keep focusing on the sta-" "Star," he interrupts, his laughter bubbling up again. "Fluffy star." Karen's smile grew wider despite the situation. "It's okay, Plankton," she reassured, her voice calm. "Just keep playing with it." Hanna watched, her heart in her throat. "Is he... is he okay?" she asked, uncertain of what she was seeing. "Want... want more is," Plankton said, his words slurred. Karen nodded, her expression filled with love. "He's okay, Hanna," she said. "It's just part of his recovery from a seizure." Hanna looked on, still struggling to comprehend the complexities of Plankton's condition. "After a seizure, he can act a bit... different, sometimes. He probably won't remember what happened," Karen explained, her voice calm and reassuring. "You can talk to him, just keep it simple and don't touch him without asking." Hanna nodded, feeling like an outsider in this world of understanding and care that Karen and Plankton shared. "Hey Plankton," she said, her voice gentle. "You okay?" Plankton looked at her, his eye glazed over. "Fluffy star," he replied, his voice still slurred and playful. Hanna managed a smile, though it was tinged with sadness at the thought of her earlier cruelty. "Hanna," he said, his voice still off. "She smell like... like bubblegum?" Hanna's eyes widened. "Plankton, it's me, it's just your imagination playing tricks on you after the se-" But Karen held up a hand to stop her. "We don't want to overwhelm his senses right now," she explained. "Let him come back to us in his own time." Hanna nodded. "You like the star, don't you?" Karen asked, her voice soothing. Plankton nodded, his giggles subsiding into a soft chuckle. "It's so fluffy," he murmured, his fingers tracing the star's outline. Hanna watched the tender interaction, her heart heavy with regret. "You know, Plankton," Hanna ventured, her voice shaky. "I didn't mean to hurt you." He looked at her, his gaze unsteady. "You, hurt," he said, his words slow and deliberate. His finger traced the plush star's fabric, his mind still in a haze. Karen's heart broke for him, but she knew he needed to hear it from Hanna. "I know, Plankton," Hanna whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so, so sorry." Plankton's gaze remained on the star, his finger tracing its fluffy outline. "Fluffy," he murmured, his voice a gentle echo of his usual self. "You like it?" she asked, her voice gentle. "Fluffy," he repeated, not really hearing her. The room was still, the air thick with the weight of their recent exchange. Hanna's eyes were glued to Plankton, his post-seizure state both fascinating and alarming her. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. Plankton's giggle was sudden, his gaze shifting from the star to Hanna. "Hans smell funny," he said, his words still slurred. Hanna swallowed her sadness, forcing a smile. "It's because I ate a whole pack of bubblegum," she lied. His eyes lit up, his innocence shining through. "Want bubblegum?" he asked, his voice filled with childish excitement. Hanna felt a wave of guilt wash over her. "No, Plankton, I'm okay," she said gently. "But you keep playing with your fluffy star." Karen watched as Hanna interacted with Plankton, his mind still in the same post-seizure state. It was both heartbreaking and a tiny bit amusing to see. "What's your name?" Plankton asked, his speech still slurred. Hanna's smile was sad. "It's Hanna, Plankton," she said, trying to keep the conversation light. "Oh, Hanna Plankton. You're a pretty name," he said, his voice filled with the same wonder. "Thank you," Hanna said, fighting back tears. She felt like a monster for the way she'd treated him. Plankton's laughter filled the room again, his body still slightly twitching from the seizure. "You smell pretty, Hanna Plankton," he said, his words still slurred. Hanna's heart clenched at the innocence behind his words, knowing how much pain she'd caused him. "Thank you, Plankton," she managed, her voice thick. Plankton's gaze drifted to her, in a way that Karen knew meant that his mind's slowly clearing back to himself, his expression becoming more aware, his eye focusing slightly as he took in his surroundings.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 20 "You think you know what's best for me," Plankton continued, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "Because obviously, I'm just a lost cause, right? Too autistic to know what I need or want for myself." His eye focused on her, a challenge in its depths. "But let me tell you something, Hanna. Your neurotypical world isn't the be-all, end-all. You think because I don't fit in your tidy little box, I must be some kind of burden‽" Hanna felt the sting of his words, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Plankton, no, that's not what I meant at all-" "But that's what you said," Plankton interrupted, his voice sharp. "That's what you implied." Hanna's eyes searched his, desperation in her gaze. "I didn't mean it like that," she said, her voice trembling. "I just..." But Plankton was on a roll, his words fueled by both anger and fear. "You think you can just waltz in here and tell me how to live my life?" he spat. "You think because you don't understand me, I'm the one who's broken?" Hanna felt the weight of his accusation, her heart heavy with guilt. She knew she'd been wrong, but she never meant to make him feel this way. "Plankton, please," she whispered. "Let me make it up to yo-" But Plankton was beyond reason. His eye flashed with fury, his voice shaking. "No!" he shouted, his body trembling. "You don't get to decide when I've had en-" "Plankton," Karen's voice was firm but gentle. "You're upset. It's okay to be upset. But let's talk about this calmly." He turned to her, his eye still blazing with anger. "Why should I be calm?" he demanded. "Why should I be nice and polite when she can't even bother t---" "Plankton," Karen cut him off, her voice still calm. "You're right, she hurt you. But anger won't fix it." Plankton's chest heaved with the force of his breath, his grip on the blanket tight. He knew she was right, but the emotion was too strong to be contained. It's not fair, unfair Hanna gets the sympathy.. "I'm sorry, Plankton," Hanna whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to make you feel like that." Karen's hand was a gentle pressure on his back, grounding him. "But you have to understand, Hanna's trying to learn," she said, her voice firm but calm. "But why does she get to make mistakes and still get treated like a hero?" he asked, his voice full of hurt. "Why does everyone always take the side of neurotypicals?" The room was silent, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air. Hanna looked at him, her eyes wide with shock. "That's not what I meant," she said, her voice small. "I just wa-" "But it's what you did," Plankton snapped, his voice sharp. "You don't get it. Everyone treated me like barnacles for a disability! But you, you get to be clumsy and still get the gold star. But it's always me who's the problem," he said, his voice laced with bitterness. "It's always me who has to get disciplined.." Karen's eyes searched his, seeing the depth of his pain. She knew he wasn't just talking about Hanna. This was about a lifetime of feeling misunderstood and undervalued. "Plankton, you're not a problem," she said, her voice firm. "You're amazing, just as you are. And Hanna's here to learn." He looked at her, his eye still flashing with anger. "But why does she get to be the hero?" he demanded. "Why does she get to mess up and still be the one who's right?" Karen took a deep breath, her heart breaking for him. "Because she's trying, Plankton," she said gently. "And she's learning." "But it's not fair," he said, his voice filled with the frustration of a lifetime of being misunderstood. "I try so hard, and nobody cares." Karen's heart ached. She knew he did, she knew how much he struggled every day. "People care," she said. "But they don't always know how to sh-" "No," Plankton interrupted, his voice rising. "They don't care enough to understand!" He sat up in bed, his eye blazing. "Do you know what they used to do to me in school?" he demanded, his face red with anger. "Do you know the teachers looked away while the other kids called me names and poked at me? Yet when it made me have a seizure, it's me who teachers tied up in a chair!" Hanna's eyes widened in horror, while Karen felt her own anger flare at the thought of Plankton suffering like that. She'd always known school had been difficult for him, but to hear the extent of his suffering was too much to bear. Karen's blood boiled at the thought of her love being a scapegoat. "Plankton," she began, her voice thick with emotion. "You're not the problem. You never w---" But he didn't let her finish. "They did it because I'm different!" he shouted. "Because I'm not like them!" Hanna looked at him, her eyes filled with regret. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I had no idea." Plankton looked at her, his gaze intense. "So, what are you going to do about it?" Hanna swallowed hard. "I'll learn," she said, her voice determined. "I'll do everything I can to understand." Karen nodded. "That's a good start," she said, her voice still gentle. "But it's not just about understanding. It's about respecting him." Plankton's breathing slowed, his body still tense. "You'll have to prove it," he said, his voice still sharp. "Prove you're not just playing along until I'm convenient again." Hanna nodded, her eyes determined. "I will," she said. "I promise." Plankton studied her, his expression softening slightly. He wanted to believe her, he really did. But the hurt was to fresh. Karen watched the exchange, her heart heavy. She knew that Plankton's trust wasn't easily earned, especially after something like this. But she also knew that Hanna meant it. Hanna took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Plankton's. "I'll do better," she said, her voice sincere. "I'll educate myself, I'll listen to you, and I'll never make you feel like that again." Plankton searched her gaze, his own eye still filled with sorrow. He knew she meant it, but the fear was still present. "Fine," he said, his voice small. "But if you ever say something like that again, I can't be around you." Hanna's heart broke at his words, the gravity of what she'd done hitting her full force. "I won't," she promised. "I'll be better." Plankton nodded, his grip on the blanket relaxing slightly. Karen's hand squeezed his shoulder, her own support unwavering.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 5 Chip approached tentatively, his hand still gripping the octopus. "Hey Dad," he said, his voice gentle. "It's okay. Can you say 'octopus'?" Plankton looked up. "Oc- -topus," he repeated, the word coming out as a garbled mess. Chip couldn't help but chuckle despite the gravity of the situation. It was strange to see his dad, the master of words, stumble over something so simple. "Good job, Dad," Chip said, his voice filled with affectionate pride. "Again," he encouraged. "Oc-top-us," Plankton managed, his speech slightly clearer. Chip nodded, a soft laugh escaping. "That's it. The octopus wanted us to play together. Do you want to play?" Plankton looked at the stuffed octopus in Chip's hand, his expression still foggy. "Is?" he murmured, his eye moving slightly. "Is." Chip nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the sadness in his heart. "Yeah, Dad. It's ok." He held out the octopus. "This is the octopus. He's here to see you." Plankton's gaze focused on the octopus, his hand reaching out to touch it. "Octopus," he repeated, his tongue struggling with the word. "Octo...pus." More drool pooled in the corner of his mouth as he tried again. Karen watched the interaction, her heart swelling with hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could be a moment of bonding for them, a chance for Chip to see his father in a new light. "Keep going," she whispered encouragingly. Chip held out the octopus further. "Dad, remember?" he prompted gently. "We talked about the octopus." Plankton's hand grasped the toy despite his confusion. He stared at the tentacles, his mind racing with a jumble of thoughts that he couldn't quite articulate. "Wh-wh-what?" he stuttered, his gaze unfocused. "It's okay," Chip assured, his voice soothing. "You're okay." He began to make the octopus wave its tentacles around playfully. "Look, he wants to be friends." Plankton stared at the octopus for a moment, his brain trying to catch up to the situation. "F-friends," he mumbled, his mouth twitching into a smile. He watched as the octopus's tentacles danced in the air, and then his own hand started to mimic the movement. "F-f-friends," he repeated, his voice gaining a bit of its usual lilt. Chip's heart swelled with relief. He had never seen his father like this before, and it was both terrifying and endearing. He knew his dad was still in there, trying to come back to reality. "That's right," he said, his tone gentle. "We're all friends here." He waved the octopus again, and Plankton's hand followed suit, the two of them playing a silent game of copycat. Karen watched, her eyes misty with tears. It was both heartbreaking and oddly sweet to see her husband like this, vulnerable and child- like in his confusion. But she knew they needed to keep the conversation simple for Plankton's sake. "Chip, ask him about the bear," she suggested, her voice barely above a whisper. Chip nodded, turning his attention back to the bear. "Dad, remember the bear?" he asked, his voice gentle. Plankton's gaze flickered to the plush animal in his hand. "Be-be-be-" he started, his tongue tripping over the word. Chip waited patiently, giving his dad the space he needed to find his voice. "Bear," Plankton finally managed, his expression lighting up. "Good bear." Karen's heart swelled at the sight of the two of them playing, her son's innocence and her husband's vulnerability a stark contrast. Plankton's hand movements grew more animated, his speech still slurred but gaining clarity. "Bear...good," he said again, giggling. "Bear making octo happy." Chip couldn't help but laugh at the nonsensical words. "Yeah, Dad, the bear's making everyone happy." He watched as Plankton's hands danced with the octopus's tentacles, the bear bobbing up and down in the air. It was a sight that would have been comical under different circumstances, and Karen knew Plankton would normally feel humiliated at his inability to speak coherently. But in that moment, his confusion seemed almost endearing. "Bear, octo, happy," Plankton repeated, his words slurring together into a loop. It was like listening to a broken record, his brain stuck on the same phrase. Karen bit her lip, trying not to smile at the absurdity of it all. "Good, Plankton," she said, her voice soft. "Keep playing with the bear." Chip's eyes were glued to his father, a mix of fascination and concern. He had never seen Plankton so out of sorts, his usual sharp wit replaced by babbling nonsense. "Look, Dad," he said, his tone gentle. "The octopus is dancing with the bear." Plankton's eye lit up with a childlike wonder as he watched the two stuffed animals interact. He giggled, a sound that was both sweet and slightly eerie coming from his normally serious demeanor. "Dance," he mumbled, his hand moving the bear in a clumsy imitation of the octopus's wavy tentacles. "Dance, bear." The scene was almost comical, like a surreal play performed by a pair of silent puppets. Karen and Chip exchanged glances, their smiles tinged with sadness. They knew this wasn't the Plankton they were used to, but they couldn't help but be drawn into his bizarre world of confusion and simple joy. "Octo, bear, friends," Plankton repeated, his voice gaining slightly in clarity. His hands worked in unison, the octopus and bear engaged in a silent, stuffed dance of sorts. Karen notices his gaze sharpening a bit and knew Plankton will soon be himself again. "Good," she murmured, her eyes never leaving her husband's face. "Keep playing, sweetie." Her voice was soft. Plankton nodded, his hands moving more freely now, his speech slowly becoming less slurred. "Octo...bear," he said, his eye darting between his octopus and bear.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 6 "Dad," Chip said, his voice filled with a mix of love and concern. "You're okay." Plankton blinked, his gaze focusing on Chip. His hand stilled, the octopus and bear forgotten. "Chip?" Chip nodded, his voice steady. "It's me, Dad. I'm here." He watched as his father's expression shifted to confusion. "What...what happened?" Plankton asked, his voice slurred and uncertain. Karen stood up, wiping her eyes. "You had a seizure, love," she explained, her voice calm. "But you're okay now. Just take your tim-" "No," Plankton said, cutting her off. He looked at the octopus in Chip's hand, then at the bear in his own. His eye searched the room, trying to piece together the jigsaw puzzle of his recent memory. "Wait," he murmured, his voice shaky. "Why the barnacles... I swear I was just..." Plankton trails off, noticing drool on the bedspread. His hand shakes as he wipes it away, his mind racing to remember. Karen's heart goes out to her husband as she sees the embarrassment etched on his face. She knows he's trying to make sense of the chaos in his head, to find his place in the world again. "You had a seizure, Plankton," she says gently. "You're ok now." Plankton's hand tightens around the bear as the fragments of his memory begin to coalesce. "Chip," he says, his voice a whisper. "He...he said..." The word hangs in the air, a shadow of the pain it had caused moments ago. Karen swallows hard, knowing that this is the moment she's been dreading. "Yes," she says gently. "Chip said something he shouldn't have." Her eyes meet Chip's, her gaze silently urging him to take responsibility. Chip nods, his eyes downcast. "But we need to talk to him, Plankton. He didn't mean it. He just doesn't understand.." But Plankton's expression has closed off. The mention of the slur brings back the hurt, and his hand clutches the bear tightly. Karen can see the walls going up again, the fear of being misunderstood once more. "Dad," Chip says, his voice soft. "I didn't mean it like that. I didn't know." He takes a deep breath, his eyes pleading. "Can we talk?" Plankton looks at him, his expression unreadable. Karen holds her breath, her heart in her throat. This was the moment that could either heal the rift or drive them further apart. "I...I'm sorry," Chip stammers, his voice shaking. "I didn't know what that word meant. I just...I just heard it and..." He trails off, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't know it would hurt you like that." Plankton stares at the octopus in his hand, his mind racing. He knows he should be angry, but all he feels is tired. Tired of the misunderstandings, tired of the pain that comes with every ill-intended remark. He looks up at Chip, his son's face etched with regret. "Why?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. "Why would you say such a thing?" Chip shifts his weight, his eyes downcast. "I just...I heard it," he admits. "I didn't know what it really meant." He looks at the bear, then back to Plankton. "I didn't know it would make you feel like thi—" Chip was interrupted by a knock on the front door. It's Sandy, Karen's best gal pal, dropping by to visit! Plankton's eye twitches, his thoughts racing. He wasn't ready for company, especially not when he was feeling so raw. But the sound of the door opening and Sandy's cheery voice filled the room, pulling them back to reality. "Howdy, y'all!" Sandy exclaims. Plankton looked up at her, hiding his bear and octopus in his sensory box under the bed. But Sandy saw it. "What's going on? Whatcha got in the box?" Plankton didn't want Sandy to know, didn't want anyone else to figure it out. Sandy, ever the observant soul, noticed the tension in the room. "Everything okay here?" she asked, her eyes scanning the scene. Karen took a deep breath, deciding it was time to face the music. "Plankton had a se-" But Plankton interrupts Karen. "A seriously good plan to uh, to get the Krabby Patty formula," he says, his voice quickening as he tries to deflect. Sandy raises an eyebrow. "Is that all?" she asks, not quite believing the sudden shift in conversation. Plankton nods, his hand still shaking as he tries to keep the box hidden. "Yes," he says, a bit too quickly. "Just a... a little plan. Nothing serious." His voice was strained, the lie heavier than the silence that followed. Chip watches his dad, his heart breaking at the sight of the man who had always been so strong now looking so small and scared. He knew his words had caused this, but he didn't know how to fix it. "Dad," he says, his voice soft. "We need to talk about this." But Plankton just shakes his head, his eyes darting around the room. "No," he mutters, his voice shaky. "Not now. Not with...her here." He nods towards Sandy, his anxiety palpable. "Yea, our little secret plans must wait," he says with forced joviality. Sandy's eyes narrow, sensing something is off. "Is everything alright, Plankton?" she asks, concern lacing her voice. Plankton's heart races, his mind trying to form coherent words. He didn't want to lie, but the truth felt too heavy, too complicated for this moment. "It's fine," he says, his tone clipped. "Just a bit tired. Even the greatest minds need to rest, eh?" He tries to laugh, but it comes out forced. Sandy nods, looking between the two of them. "Alright," she says, her voice still laced with concern. "If you're sure. What about the box? What's i---" "It's nothing!" Plankton says, his voice a little too loud. He's flustered, his heart racing with the fear of being found out. The last thing he needs is for Sandy to know about his autism, his secret. He waves a hand dismissively and stands up, the box of stims still hidden under the bed. "Just some... uh... inventory for the Chum Bucket," he stammers, trying to compose his features into something resembling normalcy. "You know, top-secret recipes and... and... uh, Krabby Patty... formulas," he adds hastily, his mind racing to come up with a plausible cover story. Sandy's eyes narrow slightly, not quite buying it. "Then, show me‽ I can't let you steal the Krabby Patty formula," she says, snatching the box.

𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 7 Plankton's heart leaps into his throat as the box flies open. Fidget toys spill out everywhere, each one a tiny piece of his vulnerability. "N-no, wait!" he stammers, his hand shooting out to grab the box. But it's too late. Sandy's eyes widen as she sees the collection of stim toys, the suspicion setting in. Sandy looks at him. "Plankton," she says. "You can tell me. What's going on?" "Sandy," Karen starts, her voice calm and measured. "You know Plankton's... uh... unique quirks, right?" She tries to find the right words, but Plankton's mind is racing. He can't bear the thought of being seen as weak or broken, not even by his wife's closest friend. Sandy nods, her gaze still on the fidget toys scattered across the floor. "Yeah," she says slowly. "But what's this all abou–" But Plankton can't handle the scrutiny anymore. His eye starts to twitch again, his body tense with anxiety. "It's nothing," he insists, his voice shaking. "Just some... stuff I... I collected." Sandy looks at him, her eyes filled with confusion and concern. "Plankton," she says gently. "You know you can talk to me." She's seen his quirks before, but never anything like this. Plankton's eye darts around the room, looking for a way out. He feels the familiar panic rising in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts he can't quite articulate. He stammers, trying to find the right words to explain without revealing too much. "It's... it's just... I was... uh... I was just... experimenting with... uh... new... new... new ways to... to... keep my mind... uh... sharp?" Karen watches her husband with a mix of pity and frustration. She knows his fear of being seen as different is overwhelming, but she also knows hiding it won't make it go away. "Plankton," she says gently. "It's okay." Plankton's eye stops twitching as he looks at her. He takes a deep breath, his body visibly relaxing. "I... I don't want to talk about it," he says, his voice low. Sandy looks from Plankton to Karen, then back again. She can sense the tension in the room, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air. "Okay," she says slowly. "But if yo--" Plankton cuts her off. "Sandy, it's nothing," he says, his voice too loud, too forced. "Just... just a little hobby, you know?" He laughs awkwardly, his nervousness palpable. "Some people collect stamps. I just... I just like... uh... tinkering with these... these little things." He tries to wave it off, his hand shaking as he does so. Sandy's expression is a mix of confusion and worry. "But Plankton," she starts, picking up a fidget toy. "Whaa-" "It's fine, Sandy," Plankton interrupts, his voice strained. "It's just...just something I do to... to relax." He grabs the toy from her hand, his movements erratic. "It's not a big de-" But Sandy's eyes are still on the box, curiosity piqued. "But Plankton, why the secrecy?" she presses, her tone gentle but firm. Plankton's face reddens, his eye darting around the room. He stammers, trying to find a suitable explanation. "It's... it's just a... a surprise," he managed to get out, his voice squeaking. "For... for the Chum Bucket. A new... uh... gimmick." He laughs nervously, his hands fidgeting with the toys. Sandy looks at him, her concern clear. "Plankton, if you're going through something, you know you can talk to me." Her voice is gentle, but the question in her eyes is unmistakable. Plankton's heart squeezes in his chest, his mind racing to come up with a plausible explanation. He doesn't want her pity, doesn't want to be seen as weak. "It's... it's nothing," he repeats, his voice shaky. "Just some new... uh... merchandise I've been working on. For the Chum Bucket," he adds quickly. He tries to laugh, but it sounds forced. "You know me, always thinking of new ways to outdo Krabs," he says, trying to redirect the conversation. But Sandy doesn't buy it. "Merchandise?" she asks, her tone skeptical. "These look like... like some sort of therapy toys." Her voice is gentle, but the word hits Plankton like a ton of bricks. He swallows hard, his grip on the fidget toys tightening. Plankton's mind races, trying to come up with a lie that won't unravel. But before he can speak, Chip steps forward. "It's not for the Chum Bucket," Chip says, his voice steady. "They're dad's... uh... special toys." He looks at Plankton, his gaze filled with understanding. "He's special needs," he says, his voice unwavering. "He has... uh..." Plankton's face goes from flustered to furious. "Chip!" he snaps. "That's enough!" But it's too late. Sandy's eyes widen. Sandy looks from Chip to Plankton, her expression a mixture of shock and compassion. "What does he mean, special needs?" she asks, carefully. Plankton's face turns a bright shade of red, his hands shaking with anger. He slams the fidget toys into the box, his voice tight. "It's none of your business, Sandy," he snaps. "It's just a..." Sandy's eyes widen, surprise and concern melding together. "Plankton, what's going on here?" she asks, her voice gentle but firm. "You and Karen can talk to me. You know that." Plankton's breathing quickens, his hands shaking as he fumbles to close the box. "It's nothing," he insists, his voice tight. "Just a... a little... uh... quirky hobby." Sandy's gaze is filled with a blend of shock and concern as she looks at her friend's husband, his usual confidence replaced by a flustered mess. "Plankton," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "You're special needs? What's Chi-" Plankton's anger flares up. "It's none of your concern!" he snaps, his hands shaking as he pushes the box under the bed with more force than necessary. The stims scatter on the floor, each one a painful reminder of his condition. "You just stick to your treedome and let me handle my... uh... quirky habits," he says, his words clipped. Sandy's eyes are wide, taking in the scene before her. She's never seen Plankton like this, so... vulnerable. "But, oh Chip," she starts, her voice soothing. "If you're... uh... dad's going through something, I want to help. Chip, you told me he's special needs. Tell me wh-" "Because," Chip says, "Mom said she doesn't like that I know he's ret-..."