"We removed Plankton's
wisdom teeth. He's still
asleep, you can stay with
him." Said the oral surgeon
to Karen. They've just finished
and lead Karen into the room.
Plankton is lying in
the hospital bed, his
face a mask of peace,
the only signs of the
recent surgery being
the gauze in his mouth
and the drool seeping
out the side. His cheeks
are slightly swollen, and she
wonders when he'll wake
up. The doctor said
it could take a while.
The IV line snakes up
his arm.
Karen pulls a chair
up beside the bed. She
takes his hand and holds
it gently, feeling the
warmth of his skin
contrast with the coolness
of her own palm. The room
is sterile, the air
conditioning humming
steadily in the background.
The faint smell of
disinfectant fills the
space. She looks around
the room, noticing the
monitors beeping in
rhythm with Plankton's
breathing and heart rate.
The nurse comes in
and checks the machines,
making a few quiet notes
on a clipboard. She
smiles at Karen, "He's
doing well. Just let him
sleep. It's the best thing
right now." Karen nods,
squeezing Plankton's hand
slightly, willing him to
feel her presence. She
wonders what dreams he's
having, if any, behind
his closed lid.
Time seems to crawl
as Karen watches him
sleep. She tries to
read a book, but the
words blur together. Her
thoughts drift to their
lives before this moment,
their shared laughter, their
arguments, the quiet
moments of understanding.
Her gaze lingers on
his swollen cheeks,
his chest rising and
falling with each
breath.
A soft groan escapes
his lips and his eye
begins to flutter open.
Slowly, Plankton comes
to, his vision blurred
by the anesthesia's last
hangover. He blinks,
trying to focus on
Karen's face. She sets
aside her book and
smiles at him, her screen
welcoming him back to
the world of the conscious.
"Hi," she says softly. "How
are you feeling?" Plankton
makes a sound that's
somewhere between a
whine and a grunt.
His eye wanders the
room before finally
settling on hers.
"What...what happened?"
he slurs, the words
barely audible through
the gauze. Karen's smile
widens a bit. "You had
your wisdom teeth removed,
remember?" He nods slightly.
The nurse reappears,
checking his vitals again
with a gentle touch. "Time
to go home," she says,
removing the gauze.
They make their way out of
the hospital, Karen
supporting Plankton
gently as he stumbles,
his legs still wobbly from
the anesthesia. The sun
is setting, casting
long shadows across the
parking lot. Karen helps
Plankton into the car,
buckling him in and
adjusting the seat so
he can lean back and
rest. He nods off almost
immediately, his breathing
evening out as the car starts
and they pull away from
the hospital.
The drive home is quiet,
Plankton's snores punctuating
the hum of the engine. Karen
keeps glancing over,
checking on him, her
concern etched into every
line on her screen. The
pain medication is strong,
keeping him in a
half-awake state. Each
time he wakes, he looks
around, disoriented, before
his eye finds hers and
his expression relaxes.
Once they arrive, Karen
guides him to the couch,
his body feeling heavier
than ever before. He
slumps into the cushions
and she grabs the ice pack
from the cooler. "Hold this
to your cheeks," she
instructs, placing the
cold compress against
his skin. He nods
obediently, his eye already
glazing over with the
promise of sleep.
The TV flickers on,
its blue light washing
over the room. Karen
finds a sitcom they both
enjoy, hoping the
familiar laughter will
ease his pain and keep
them both company. But
Plankton's snores soon
overpower the TV's
audio, his head lolling
to the side. She smiles,
knowing he's in a deep
slumber, and covers him
with a blanket.
The house is eerily
quiet except for the
steady tick of the
clock on the wall.
Karen moves around the
kitchen, preparing a
soft meal for when
he wakes, her mind
racing with thoughts of
what the next few days
will be like. Plankton's
recovery will be slow, but
she's ready to take care
of him. She's his rock, his
support, and she'll do
anything to help him
feel better.