NOTHING BUT THE WISDOM TRUTH iv
"Thanks for staying." Mr. Krabs nodded, his eyes lingering on the sleeping Plankton. "Of course," he said
gruffly. "Can't have you two dealing it alone." Karen tucked the blankets around him, smoothing out the
wrinkles with a gentle hand.
The next day, Plankton woke, all traces of
anesthesia worn off, cheeks tender to the touch. He vaguely remembered surgery, but
everything after was a blur.
"Morning," Karen said. She sat beside the bed, her
screen warm with concern. "How are you feeling?"
Plankton blinked. "K-Karen?" he asked.
"Whath's...what happened?"
"You had wisdom teeth removed, darling," she said softly. "You're going
to be fine."
The memory of surgery rushed back to Plankton in fragmentsāthe
operating room, machines, and then Karen holding his hand as he woke up. Wincing, he
reached to tentatively touch his swollen face, the pain a reminder of his ordeal.
Karen noticed his discomfort and handed him water. "Take it slow," she advised, watching
him intently. Plankton took a sip, the cool liquid soothing. He leaned back into the pillows with a
sigh.
"Do you remember surgery?" she asked, stroking his arm.
"It's all a bit fuzzy," he admitted. "Just going in, waking up. Going in the car to drive home? But
nothing else.."
The surgery had gone well. Karen knew Plankton and Krabs had a frenemy relationship, at best; but she had
never considered the
possibility that Plankton could harbor any genuine feelings for the crab, delirious or not. Now, as she watched
him
suffer, she debated whether to tell him. Would it help? Would it hurt? She didn't know.
But Plankton's curiosity was piqued. "What's going on?" he asked, trying to read her expression. "Did I
do something weird?"
"It's nothing," she said, forcing a laugh. "Just
the usual post-surgery confusion."
Plankton's eye wandered around the room, and his gaze landed on a bouquet of jellyfish on the nightstand.
"Who sent those?" he asked, his voice still hoarse.
Karen looked at the jellyfish, then back at him. "Mr. Krabs," she said.
Plankton's eyebrow shot up. "Krabs? Why would he send me jellyfish?" Plankton's eye narrowed slightly. "Does
he know about the surgery?" he asked, a hint of concerned horror in his voice.
Karen nodded, "I didn't know who else to turn to," she said, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and
trepidation, her voice wavering slightly, "after you were admitted, I called him. I didn't know who else to call for
help. You know, with the recovery necessities."
Plankton felt his stomach drop. He had hoped that his arch-nemesis, Mr. Krabs, had been blissfully unaware
of his weakened state. The thought of Krabs even knowing he was laid up and helpless was more than he
could bear.
"You called Krabs?" he croaked, disbelief etched into his features.
Karen nodded again, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "He was the only one I could think of who could
help us. And he was so kind, Plankton. He didn't even make fun of you."
Plankton's mind raced. The mere thought of Krabs seeing him in such a vulnerable condition was almost too
much to handle. He had always prided himself on being the smarter, more cunning one, the one who could outwit
Krabs at every turn. Now, here he was, unable to chew, looking like a balloon with legs, and being
witnessed by the very crab he had spent his life trying to outdo.
"What did he see?" Plankton managed to ask, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.
Karen looked surprised. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, what did he see me?" Plankton's voice grew more urgent, the fear of humiliation coloring
his words.
"He saw you sleeping," she said gently. "But you were out of it. You don't have to worry about him."
Plankton felt a wave of embarrassment. "How did I look?"
"Looked like you were sleeping peacefully," Karen said, trying to reassure him. But she knew that wasn't
what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that he looked strong, in control, not like the blubbering mess he
actually was.
Plankton sighed, the sound a sad, defeated hiss. "I can't believe you called him," he said, his voice filled with a
mix of pain and annoyance.
Karen's hand tightened on his shoulder. "I had to," she said firmly. "You needed someone, and he was the only
one I could think of who would help."
Plankton's gaze fell to the bouquet of jellyfish. "I hope I didn't budge or talk?" he asked, his voice tight.
Karen squeezed his hand. "You were completely out of it," she assured him. "He said you looked tired."
Plankton's eye searched hers for any hint of mockery, but all he found was sincerity. He took a deep breath,
the pain in his cheeks flaring up, and nodded. He knew he had to accept help, but the thought of Krabs
knowing he was down, even for a moment, was maddening.
He shifted, trying to find a position that didn't make his mouth throb. "What else happened, with
Krabs?" he asked, his voice strained.
"He just dropped off the jellyfish and said to tell you to get better soon," Karen said, not giving answers. "I've
said all I can say."
The silence grew tense as Plankton's mind whirled with scenarios of what Krabs might have seen or heard. He
knew his rival had a knack exploiting weakness, and he couldn't let his guard down, even in a state like
this. He had to recover quickly, be sharp, to ensure that Krabs didn't use this moment of vulnerability
against him. He also knew Karen's not gonna tell him whatever went down.
Karen, noticing his discomfort, decided to change the subject. "I'll go grab some ice cream for you," she
offered, standing up. "It'll help with the swelling, but don't do anything foolish while I'm gone."
Plankton nodded, his thoughts racing. As soon as the door clicked shut behind her, he began to formulate a
plan. He had to speak to Krabs, to make sure there were no misunderstandings, no ammo for future taunts.
Wincing, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, using the momentum to stand up. He wobbled for a
moment, his head spinning, but steadied himself against the wall.
In his office at the krusty krab, Mr. Krabs sat at the table, sipping a cup of tea and staring at the floor. He had
hoped Plankton's odd behavior was just the drugs talking, but deep down, he couldn't shake the feeling that
something had shifted between them. He had felt a strange warmth when Plankton had called him 'my
dearest friend' in his delirious state. But friends? That was a concept that seemed as foreign to him as a day
without the Krabby Patty.
He sighed, setting the cup down. It was nonsense, of course. Plankton was just confused. He had to be. After
all, they had spent years in a cutthroat competition, stealing ideals, customers, the occasional secret
ingredient. The thought of Plankton actually caring for him was absurd. But as he sat, Krabs couldn't help but
feel a twinge of something he hadn't felt in a long timeāawkward.
But Plankton wasn't one to let things go easily. After a few moments of gathering his strength, he shuffled out
of the bedroom, the pain in his mouth a distant second to the urgency of his mission. He goes to the Krusty
Krab.
He pushed open the door to the restaurant, the bell jingling overhead.
Mr. Krabs looked up from his ledger, his heart skipping a beat as he saw Plankton stumble in. "What are you
doing here?" he exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "You should be resting!"
Plankton's eye narrowed, his jaw clenched in pain. "I need to talk to you," he ground out, each word a
challenge.
Mr. Krabs' claws clutched the edge of the table, twitching nervously. "Sure, sure," he said, trying to sound
casual. "What's on your mind?"
"Not here," Plankton hissed, gesturing to the open restaurant. The last thing he wanted was for their
conversation to be overheard by prying ears, especially not by customers.
Mr. Krabs, visibly confused, nodded and led him out back. The tension in the air was palpable.
"Alright, what's so important?" he asked, trying to keep his cool.
Plankton took a deep breath, his cheeks flushing with pain. "What did I say to you after the surgery?" he
demanded, his voice gruff.
"What do you mean?" he stalled, heart racing.
Plankton's voice was low and intense. "You know what I mean," he said. "What happened at the house?"
Mr. Krabs' eyes searched Plankton's for any hint of a bluff, but found only pain and determination. He took a
deep breath, feeling the weight of his secret lift slightly. "You don't remember?" he asked, a glimmer of hope in
his eyes.
Plankton's gaze was unwavering. "I remember enough," he said, voice tight. "I just know you were there.
Don't gloat. Spill."
Mr. Krabs looked at him, realization sinking in. He met Plankton's gaze. "You were in a bit of pain," he said, his
voice carefully measured. "You were talking nonsense."
"What kind of nonsense?" he demanded.
Mr. Krabs took a step back, his eyes darting around the alleyway. "Oh, you know, the usual post-surgery
babble," he said, trying to play it off. "Nothing important."
But Plankton wasn't buying it. He could see relief in Krabs' eyes, and it made him more nervous.
"I need to know," he insisted, his voice hoarse. "What did I say?"
Mr. Krabs took a deep breath, his claws drumming on the counter. "Said something about how we've been
through a lot together?"
But Pearl, Mr. Krabs' daughter, interrupted, wandering in, phone in hand, scrolling through images.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed. "Look what I found on the phone!"
Mr. Krabs' heart sank as he realized what's happening. He turned to see Pearl holding up a phone showing a
photo of Plankton, post-surgery, asleep with his head resting on Krabs' elbow.