＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 18
"What are you
guys doing here?"
he asked, his voice
still gruff but with
a hint of confusion.
Sponge Bob
smiled, his thumb
still tracing
the edge of
Plankton's cast. "We
just wanted to
make sure you're
okay," he said.
Plankton's antennae
twitched. "I'm fine,"
he said, his
tone gruff.
Karen
stood up, her
movements smooth
and efficient.
"Why don't we get
you into your chair?"
she suggested,
picking up his
crutches. Plankton
nodded, his
movements slow
and deliberate as
he carefully swung
his casted leg over
the side of the
couch. With a
grunt, he hoisted
himself up,
balancing on his
good leg. Patrick
watched, his
eyes wide with
interest. "Look
at him go," he
whispered, his voice
filled with
awe. "It's like he's
learning to walk
all over again
like a wittle baby."
Plankton shot
Patrick a
glare, his face
flushing with
embarrassment.
"I'm not a baby!"
he snapped, his
voice echoing
in the quiet
living room.
"Patrick, that's
not helping," Hanna
whispered, trying
not to laugh.
Sponge Bob's
expression was one
of shock. "Patrick,
that's not nice," he
admonished gently.
Patrick
scrunched his face
up in confusion.
"But he looks like
one," he said,
his voice
innocent. Plankton
huffed. "No, I'm not!"
But Patrick's on a roll.
"You know what
else babies have?"
he said, his
voice rising.
"Naps!" Plankton's
face grew redder,
his antennae
twitching with
anger. "Patrick,"
Hanna warned,
but Patrick
was on a
roll. "Hey, Plankie, you
need help while
you're all broken.
Wa-a-agh, wa-a-agh!"
The room fell
silent. Plankton
stared at
Patrick, his
single eye
twitching.
"That's it," he
said, his voice
laced with sarcasm.
"I guess I'll just
have to take naps
like a baby
now." Hanna
could see the
hurt in his eye.
With a
quick motion,
Plankton set down
his crutches and
stood up, hopping
on one foot.
Without another
word, he turned
and limped away,
his casted leg
thumping against
the floor with each
step as he
headed towards
his bedroom. The
group watched,
stunned, as he
closed the door
behind him with
a slam.
Hanna's
laughter died
in her throat,
replaced by a
look of horror.
"Oh no," she
whispered. Karen
sighed, setting
down the
magazines. "I'll go
talk to him," she
said firmly. But
before she could
move, they heard
sobs from
behind the door.
Her heart
aching, she
knocked softly. "Plankton,
are you okay?"
The sobs grew
louder, and
she exchanged
worried glances
with Sponge Bob
and Patrick, who
looked equally
mortified.
"I'll go,"
Sponge Bob
volunteered, standing
up. He approached
the door, his
steps tentative. "Plankton,
buddy, it's me," he
said gently.
"Can I come in?"
The sobbing
subsided for a
moment before
Plankton's voice,
muffled by
the door,
replied, "I don't
want to see any of
you right now."
The words hit Hanna
like a brick,
her chest tightening
with sadness.
Sponge Bob looked
back at them, his
expression pained.
He shrugged
helplessly before
sitting back down.
Patrick's
face fell. "I didn't
mean to make him
cry," he said, his
voice small. Hanna
nodded, her eyes
still on the
closed door. "We
know you didn't,
Patrick," she said,
trying to
comfort him. "But
sometimes words can
hurt, even if we
don't mean them to."
Sponge Bob
placed a hand
on Patrick's
shoulder. "We'll
apologize later,"
he said firmly. "But
right now, let's
just give him some
space." They both
left, the only
sound being Plankton's
muted sobs. Karen
stood, her heart
heavy with
disappointment at
his pain. She
moved to the door,
wanting to comfort
Plankton but
respecting his
request for solitude.
Her hand hovered
above the
knob, unsure
of what to do.
Through the crack
in the door, she
could see
Plankton's form
hunched over
his bed, his
tiny fists
clenched. His
sobs grew quieter,
his breaths
coming in
shuddering gasps.
Karen's chest
tightened, watching
his vulnerability.
With a deep
breath, she
pushed the door
open, moving
slowly towards
the bed. "Plankton,"
she said softly,
her voice
soothing. He
looked up, his
eye red and
swollen. "I just
want to check
on you," she
said, her tone
gentle. "You don't
have to talk if
you don't want to,
but I'm here."
He nodded,
his antennae
drooping. Karen
sat on the
edge of the bed,
careful not to
disturb his cast.
"You've been
through a lot,"
she said, her voice
soft. "It's okay
to feel upset."
Plankton's chest
heaved, his
sobs growing
softer.
"But you know,
tomorrow we have
that appointment
with the doctor,"
Karen reminded
him gently. "They'll
check how your leg's
doing, make sure
everything's
on track. And Hanna
is coming along, as
her home is still
under repair."
Plankton sniffled,
his eye still
wet. "Yeah, I know,"
he mumbled, his voice
small. Karen
smiled gently. "But you
don't have to push
yourself too hard.
You're still healing."
The next morning, Karen
gets out of bed early,
the sun not yet fully
risen outside. She
can hear Plankton's
snores as she sneaks
past his bed.
Hanna stirs in
the guest room,
waking up. "How's
he doing?" she asks, coming
into their room.
"Asleep," Karen whispers.
"Let's get ready for
his appointment."
Hanna nods. "What time
is it?" "Five thirty,"
Karen says, glancing
at her clock. "We
have to leave in a
moment." Plankton's snores
grow softer. Hanna
looks at Karen,
who's gathering
his crutches.
"Should we wake him?"
Karen nods. "We have
to. The doctor
wanted us there early
to check the cast."
They tiptoe over
to Plankton's
bedside. Karen
places a hand on
his shoulder. "Plankton,
sweetie," she says
gently. "Time to wake
up." His snores
stop abruptly, and
his single eye snaps
open. "What's going
on?" he croaks,
his voice rough
from sleep. Hanna
smiles tentatively.
"We have an
appointment with
the doctor," Karen
reminds him,
helping him sit up.
"We need to get
going." Plankton groans,
his casted leg
thumping against
the bedframe. "Okay,
okay," he says,
rubbing his
eye.
Karen loaded his wheelchair
into the back as Plankton used
his crutches to get in the car.
The drive was quiet,
each of them lost in
their thoughts. Plankton
was nervous about the
doctor's visit, his
leg throbbing with
each bump in the
road. Hanna sat
beside him.
When they arrived
at the hospital, the
waiting room was
deserted except for
the receptionist, who
gave them a knowing
smile. "Mr. Plankton,"
she said, her
voice cheerful. "Right
this way." Plankton
grimaced as he
wheeled himself in. The
doctor, a stern-looking
crab, took one
look at his cast
and said, "Ah, yes.
Your appointment. Let's
have a look."
Setting up the x-ray, the
doctor turns to Plankton,
his expression
professional. "You've
got quite the cast,"
he says, eyeing it
curiously. Plankton
nods, gritting his teeth
as he lifts his leg
up onto the
examination table.
Karen's hand rests
on his shoulder,
offering silent support.
The doctor
taps the cast. "How's
the pain?"
Plankton's antennae
twitch. "Better,"
he says, his voice
strained. Karen
squeezes his shoulder.
Hanna, seated
beside Karen, holds
her hand.