𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸
(𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 12
Chip looks at
his mom, his
thoughts racing.
"How'd Dad get
this way?" He
whispers, his voice
barely above the
soft snores of
his father. Karen
sighs, her eyes
looking over at her
husband's sleeping
form.
"It was during
his birth," she
begins, her voice
soft. "It was a
difficult delivery.
Ma, his mother, had
complications, and
his brain was...affected."
Chip's eyes widen.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Karen
explains, "his
brain developed
a bit differently,
because of the
troubles during
his birth." She
takes a deep
breath, her eyes
misting over.
"Before he was
born, everything
was fine. But
his delivery was
what they call a
traumatic one. It
caused some
damage to the
part of his brain
that controls how
he experiences
the world."
Chip nods, his
thoughts racing.
He's heard of
autism before, but
never knew his
dad's was due
to an injury. "So
his brain got
hurt?" He asks,
his voice small.
"In a way,"
Karen says,
wiping a tear
away with her
free hand. "It's
not exactly like
brain damage, as
you might think of it.
It's more like... his
brain's wiring
got a bit scrambled
right at the start.
So, he feels, sees,
hears, and thinks
about things in a way
that's unique to him."
Chip nods, his
thoughts swirling.
He looks back at
his dad. "I don't want
him to be in pain,"
Chip says, his voice
breaking. As if on cue,
Plankton's snores
begin to quiet,
his chest rising
and falling more
slowly. Chip holds
his breath, watching
his dad's face
for any signs
of waking.
Karen notices
the shift first,
her gaze
sharpening. "He's
waking up," she
whispers to Chip,
squeezing his
hand gently.
Plankton's antennae
twitch, his snores
growing softer,
until they stop
altogether. His
eye opens slowly,
blinking against
the harsh light. He
looks around,
confused, before
his gaze falls on
his family. Karen
smiles gently,
relief flooding
her features. "Hey!
We're on a bench," she
says, stroking his
forehead. "You had
a bit of an overwhelm
and fell aslee—"
He sits up with
a start, his
body stiff. "The
science fair!" He
exclaims. "Did I
miss Chip's turn?"
Karen smiles,
taking his hand. "No,
you didn't miss it.
Chip's already done
his presentation.
And guess what?" She
pauses, her eyes
twinkling as she
turns to Chip.
Chip's face lights
up with excitement.
"I won," he says,
his voice filled
with pride. Plankton's
eye goes wide, his
body straightening
as the words
register. "You did?"
He asks, his voice
hoarse from sleep
and the earlier
overstimulation.
Karen nods. "Yes,
he did," she says, her
smile warm. Plankton
turns to Chip.
"Congratulations,"
he murmurs, his
eye swiveling to
his son's trophy.
"Dad, I got
first place," Chip
says, his voice
swelling with pride.
He holds up his
ribbon, the gold
glinting in the
harsh light of the
lobby. Plankton
manages a smile,
his antennae
quivering slightly.
"You did," he
whispers.
Karen looks
between them,
her heart swelling.
This moment,
despite the
difficulties, was
exactly what they
needed. "We're all
so proud of you,
Chip," she says,
her voice thick
with emotion.
"Let's go back
to the hotel and
celebrate," she says,
glancing at
Plankton, who
nods. Yet Chip
looks confused,
expecting more
excitement from
his dad. He looks
at Plankton, who
doesn't seem to
have any emotion
at all.
"Dad, aren't you
glad I won?" Chip
asks. Plankton
however doesn't
even notice Chip's
disappointment.
Plankton nods. "Of
course," he says,
his voice distant. "It's
amazing, son." But
his words don't
match his tone.
Chip's smile falters
slightly. "But do you
feel it?" He asks,
his voice small.
Plankton looks at
his son, his antennae
twitching. "What?"
He asks, genuinely
confused. "Dad, I
WON. I won the fair.
Don't you feel excited?"
Plankton nods.
"I'm happy for
you, Chip." He
tries to smile, but
it doesn't quite
reach his eye.
Chip's shoulders
slump. He doesn't
know Plankton
can't do feelings
the same way he
expresses them.
"Come on, Dad,"
Chip says, his
voice a mix of
frustration and
sorrow. "Can't you
just be happy with
me?" Plankton
blinks. "Yea?"
But Chip takes it
personally. Yet
Plankton can't see
disappointment
and confusion
in his son's eyes.
He's trying, really
trying, but his
autistic brain
can't process any
thing wrong.
He tries to
mirror Chip's smile,
his antennae
waving slightly.
But Chip can't
see it, not
really. He just
wants his dad
to be as
excited as he is,
to scream and
cheer and jump
around like
everyone else's
dad would.
Chip's eyes
brim with tears.
"You don't even
know how much this
meant to me," he
mutters, his voice
choking with
emotion. "And all
you do is sit there
like nothing's
happened."
Plankton registers
the silence. "Uh, is
something w---"
"You don't get it,"
Chip says, his voice
cracking. "You never
get it!" The accusation
hangs in the air,
sharp as a slap. Plankton
reels, his antennae
drooping. "I'm sorry,"
he whispers. "I'm
trying." But it's not
enough. Chip's
frustration boils
over.
He jumps to his
feet, the ribbon
waving in the
air like a sad
banner of victory.
"You're always
trying," Chip yells.
"But you never
understand!" His voice
echoes in the empty
lobby, and Plankton
wishes the floor
would swallow him
whole. Karen's
expression tightens,
but she stays
silent, giving
them their space.
Plankton tries to
stand, but his legs
shake, his body
still weak from
overstimulation. "Chip,
please," he stammers,
his voice trembling.
"I'm here, I'm
proud of you, I'm---"
But Chip isn't
listening. His anger
has taken over,
his young mind
unable to comprehend
his dad's condition.
"You're being
selfish," Chip
accuses, his eyes
brimming with
tears. "You can't
even pretend to
be happy for me!"
Plankton's antennae
droop further.
Chip's chest
heaves with
sobs, his fists
clenched at his
sides. "You always
make everything
about you," he
accuses, his voice
high with anger. "You
can't even pretend
to be happy for
me! You're just re---"
Plankton's
body goes rigid,
his antennae
springing straight.
His eye widens
in shock. The
slur cut deep,
deeper than
anything. He's
heard it whispered
behind his back,
seen it scribbled
on bathroom walls,
but never from
his own son.