TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚
Pt. 2
Chip notices his mom
getting up, so he hurries
to the living room.
The floorboards creak as Karen
enters, her eyes widening in
surprise. "Chip? You're home
already!" She tries to sound
casual, but her voice wavers.
Chip's face flushes, his heart
pounding. "Yeah, the bus got
here early." He glances away,
his eyes unable to meet hers.
"How was camp?" Karen asks,
trying to keep the conversation
normal despite the tension that
now filled the room. She knew he
might've heard them, but she isn't
sure how much.
Chip swallows hard, his eyes
flitting from the floor to the ceiling.
"It was fun," he responds, his voice
not quite as cheerful as he'd like it
to be. He couldn't shake the image
of his dad sitting there, so still. "What
was happening in there?" he asks,
his curiosity and concern spilling over.
Karen's face falls, and she sighs,
sitting down beside him on the
sofa. "It's something we've been
trying to keep from you, sweetie,"
she says, her eyes filled with a
mixture of sadness and regret.
"But I think it's time you knew."
With a gentle nudge, she stands
and takes his hand. "Come with
me to our room," she says, leading
the way. Chip follows, his heart
thumping in his chest.
Plankton sits up in bed, his
expression a mix of shock and
confusion as he sees Chip.
"Dad, what's going on?" Chip's voice is
steady, but his eyes are wide with
concern. Plankton's cheeks redden,
his hands fidgeting with the bed
covers. "Chip," Karen starts, her voice
careful, "you know how sometimes
people are just... different?"
Plankton stammers, his eye darting
between Chip and Karen. "It's, uh, it's
nothing," he says, his voice strained.
"I just had a little... quirk. That's all."
But Chip can see the lie in his eye,
the way his shoulders tense up like
he's trying to shrink away from the
truth.
Karen sits down next to him, her
hands folded in her lap. "Plankton,
Chip heard us. It's better if we tell
him ourselves." Plankton's face
twists in a silent plea, but she
continues, her voice calm yet firm.
"It's time, sweetie."
The room seems to shrink around
them as Plankton's eye widens,
his body stiffening in the bed. He's
been hiding his autism for years,
fearful of how Chip might react, of
the misunderstanding he might face.
"Chip," Karen starts, "your dad has
something called autism."
The words hang in the air, thick
like smoke from a forgotten candle.
Chip frowns, trying to grasp the
concept. Autism? He's heard of it
before, but never connected it to
his dad. Plankton's face is a
swirl of emotions - fear, guilt,
and a desperate hope that Chip
will still respect him.
"It's okay, Plankton," Karen says,
placing a reassuring hand on his
shoulder. "We'll get through
this together." She looks at Chip,
waiting for his reaction.
Plankton's eye darts around the
room, his cheeks flaming red.
He's flabbergasted, his mind
whirling with fear and regret.
This was the moment he'd
been dreading, the moment he'd
tried to avoid for so long.
Plankton starts to rock side to side.
This is his stimming, a behavior
common among autistic individuals
that helps them cope with overwhelming
sensory input or emotions.
Chip watches, his confusion
deepening. "Don't stare, Chip!"
Plankton snaps.
"But what's that, Dad?" Chip points
to the rocking, his voice tentative.
"Is everything okay?" Plankton
freezes mid-motion, looking
angrily at Chip. "Dad, why are yo--"
"It's none of your business, okay?"
Plankton snaps, his voice harsher
than Chip's ever heard.
Karen steps in, placing a hand
on Plankton's arm to calm him.
"Chip, it's okay," she says soothingly.
"Your dad's just trying to deal
with things in his own way."
But Chip can't ignore the anger
in his dad's voice. It's a stark
contrast to the dad he's always
known, the man who would laugh
at his jokes. "Mmm," Plankton
hums. Another stim of his.
"What's 'mmm' Dad?" Chip
asks. "Is 'mmm' becau-"
"Don't mock me!" Plankton's
voice cuts through the air, his
anger palpable. Chip's eyes
widen, his heart dropping. He's
never seen his dad like this.
Karen intervenes, turning
to Chip.
"When your dad makes that
sound, it's called 'stimming',"
she explains gently. "It's a way
his brain helps him process
information and feelings. It's
like a self-soothing technique. It's
part of who he is, and it's something
he doesn't always realize he's
doing. He doesn't like for people
to point it out because it makes
him feel... different."
Chip nods slowly, trying to
understand. "But I..."
Karen cuts him off gently. "It's
important to respect your dad's
boundaries, especially when it comes
to his autism." She looks at Plankton,
his rocking slowing down. "It's a
part of him that helps him cope, not
to judge or interrupt. Because when
it comes to stimming, it's a personal
and private moment for him. I don't even
interrupt him when he's doing it, unless
it's absolutely necessary."
Chip nods, but he's still
curious. "When do you
know how he stims, then?"
he asks his mom. She smiles
gently.
"Well, sweetie, it's all about
knowing your dad," she says.
"I've learned his cues over
the years. When he starts
rocking or making muttering
sound, it's like his way of telling
he needs a little space to sort
things out. It's his private moment
to cope."
Chip nods, processing this new
piece of information. "Does he
always know when he's doing it?"
Karen sighs, her gaze softening
as she looks at Plankton. "Sometimes
yes, sometimes no. It's like... it's like
his brain is in a different place,
and he needs these movements or
sounds to bring him back to us."
Chip nods, watching his dad's
rocking slow to a stop. He looks
back at Karen, his eyes full of
questions. "But when he stims
what do we do?"
Karen's gaze meets Plankton's,
and she smiles reassuringly at him.
"Just give him space," she says,
turning to Chip. "And if you're
worried, just come find me. We'll
talk about it, okay? Just don't push
him when he's like this, because it
can be really overwhelming for him."
Chip nods, his eyes never leaving
his dad's face. He's trying to
understand, trying to reconcile
the image of his dad rocking
back and forth in bed with the
man he's always known. He's seen
his dad as invincible, as a rock.
And now, here he is, vulnerable.