＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 4
After a while, Plankton's snores
begin to quiet, and he stirs.
Karen is by his side, her hand
on his shoulder as his eye opens.
"Hey," she whispers. He groans
in his wheelchair.
"How are you feeling?" she asks,
her voice filled with concern.
"Tired," he admits, his
eye still half-closed. "But I'm okay."
Sandy comes back into the
living room, drying her hands.
"You know, Karen," she says,
"I can take the first shift.
Why don't you get some
sleep too?"
Karen nods gratefully,
exhaustion etched into
every line of her face.
"Thank you, Sandy. I really
could use some rest."
Sandy takes her place
by Plankton's side. "I've got it
from here. Call if you
need anything." Karen
smiles and heads to the
guest room, her footsteps
heavy with fatigue. Plankton
shifts in his wheelchair, his
cast cumbersome. The pain
has receded into a dull
throb, the medication
doing its job.
"How long have I been
out?" he asks, his voice
slurred with sleep.
"A few," Sandy
replies, her voice gentle.
"You needed it."
He nods slowly, his antennae
drooping. "What time is it?"
Sandy glances at the clock
on the wall. "Almost
noon," she says.
"The doctor said you'd be
sleepy for a day or two,
so we figured we'd let you
rest." Plankton's eye opens
wider at that, his usual
determination flaring.
"Noon?"
Sandy nods. "You've had
a long night. And we've got
lots of movies to watch, and
books, if you're up for it."
Plankton manages a nod.
"So, tell me about this...this
tibiofibular thing," Sandy asks,
curiosity piqued. "What did they do?"
He shrugs, his eye
half-closed. "I don't know,
exactly. Something with a special
ossifying glue, I think." Sandy leans
forward, her eyes wide. "Ossifying
glue? That sounds intense."
Plankton nods. "They had to
repair the break. So, it's like...
a super glue for bones." His
hand hovers over the cast,
feeling awkward. "It's
supposed to hold it all together
until it heals. It's naturally osteogenic
and dissolves with time and healing
on it's own. Six weeks in the cast,
minimum." Sandy's face scrunches up
in sympathy. "Six weeks? That's
a long time." Plankton nods again,
his head lolling slightly. Sandy can see
the exhaustion settling
back in. "I'll be back to normal eventually.."
"Do you remember
anything from the surgery?"
she asks, hoping to keep
his mind engaged. Plankton
shakes his head, his antennae
flopping. "Nope. Just woke up
with this thing on," he says quickly,
gesturing to the cast.
Sandy nods, trying to
think of something to say.
"They have to put a rod in,
right?" she asks. "No, no rod,"
he says, his voice thick with
frustration. He feels
a bit embarrassed with the
conversation. "They used
the fancy glue to hold
everything together. No pins.."
Sandy nods, her eyes wide
with interest. "That's so cool.
What's it like? Surgery, I mean.
Like, did you see anything?"
Plankton's antennae twitch.
"Not really. It's all a blur. Just
remember waking up with this,"
he says, gesturing to the cast
encasing his leg.
"Wait," Sandy asks. "You mean
you weren't awake for any of it?"
Plankton shrugs, but Sandy's not
quite finished, ignoring his clear
desire to move on from the
topic. Her eyes are wide with wonder.
"But what about
dreams?" Sandy
asks. "Did you
have any drea------"
He cuts her off
sharply, his antennae
twitching. "No, I didn't.
I don't remember a thing."
But Sandy's curiosity isn't
deterred. "What was it like
when you wo-"
Plankton's eye opens,
his gaze intense. "Look,
I don't know what you
want me to say." His voice
has an edge of irritation. "And
so I don't have to explain
it again, it's a serious surgery.
They had to repair the break
in my leg with a special
glue that makes the bones stick
together, Sandy. So JUST.
LET. IT. GO."
Sandy's cheeks flush
slightly at his tone. "I'm
just trying to understand,
Plankton. I didn't mean t---"
But he waves her off, his
frustration clear. "I know. But I
don't want to talk about it.
Okay?" Plankton's voice
is tight.
Sandy nods quickly,
apologizing. "Of course.
I'll...I'll just get you some
water." She stands up,
leaving Plankton to his
thoughts, as Karen comes back.
Karen watches her friend
disappear into the kitchen,
a worried look crossing
her face. "Everything okay?"
she asks, her voice low.
"I think I might have pushed
a bit too hard," Sandy
admits, setting the water
down within reach. "I didn't mean
to, I just wanna underst--"
Plankton cuts her off, his
frustration growing. "I SAID, I don't
remember," he snaps. Karen's eyes
widen at his harsh tone. Sandy nods. "I'm
sor-" But Plankton isn't ready
to let it go. "That's IT." His voice is tight,
his antennae quivering with annoyance.
"It's not your business SANDY!"
Karen steps in quickly, her
voice calm. "It's okay, Plankton.
Sandy didn't mean to upset you."
Sandy's eyes are filled with
remorse. "I'm really sorry.
I didn't kno—"
But Plankton's not having it.
"I don't care," he snaps. "Just...
just STOP, and leave me alone!"
His antennae quiver with agitation,
his eye flashing with irritation.
Karen's heart squeezes at the
pain she sees in his gaze.
Sandy's eyes fill with tears
at his harshness, her cheeks
flushing with embarrassment.
"I'm sorry," she murmurs, turning
to leave the room. Karen
quickly moves to block her.
"No, no," Karen says firmly.
"You didn't do anything wrong.
Plankton, hon, we're just trying
to be here for you."
But Plankton's mood
has shifted in agitation
aimed at Sandy's curiosity.
"Why do you keep asking?"
he says, his voice tight. "I
don't know what you expect
me to say!" His antennae
twitch with annoyance.
Sandy's cheeks flush. "I just...
I'm sorry," she stammers,
backpedaling. "I'm just
curious, I didn't mean to
make you uncomf-"
"Well, it's none of your business!"
Plankton's voice is sharp,
his antennae standing on
end. Karen sighs, feeling
the tension in the room.
She knows Plankton's mood
can swing with his pain
levels, yet she doesn't want
Sandy to feel unwelcome.
Sandy's eyes water,
hurt by his words. "I'm sorry,
I just wanted to help," she
whispers, her voice
trembling slightly. Karen
steps closer to her,
placing a hand on her
shoulder.
"Why do you keep asking!"
Plankton's question lingers
in the air, his antennae
still quivering. Sandy
swallows hard. "It's just..."
Karen steps in, her voice
soft. "It's okay, Sandy. Let's just
give him some space." She nods
towards the kitchen, and Sandy
follows her.
Once out of earshot, Sandy's
eyes fill with tears. "I didn't mean
to upset him," she says, her
voice barely above a whisper.
Karen squeezes her hand. "It's
not you. He's just in a lot of
pain." She sighs. "And he's
always been a bit...private
about things. He's just not used
to being vulnerable."
Sandy nods, her gaze
falling to the floor. "I know,
but I just wanted to understand."
Karen gives her a comforting
smile. "We all do. But he's
got to deal with this in his own
way."