PATRICK PLANKTON 4/4
(NEURODIVERGENT AUTHOR)
Patrick nodded, his tentacle hovering above
Plankton's shoulder. He was about
to touch him again when Karen spoke up.
"Remember, Patrick," she said, her voice a
soft hum, "it's all about his comfort.
If he seems tense or pulls away, you know
to ease off."
Patrick nodded, his tentacle poised in the air
ready to offer comfort without
causing more distress. "Okay," he murmured
his eyes never leaving Plankton's
peaceful, if slightly troubled, face. "Soft and
gentle.."
"Yes," Karen said. "And if he flinches
or seems more uncomfortable, I know
to stop immediately."
Patrick nodded solemnly retreating. "I don't wanna
worsen," he whispered.
"You won't," Karen assured him. "Just remember, Plankton's condition isn't
your fault. And he's lucky to have a friend like you who cares enough to learn."
Patrick nodded, his tentacles stilling as he absorbed the information. He looked
down at his massive starfish body, feeling clumsy and awkward next to
Plankton's frail frame. "How do I know if I'm touching him the right way?"
he asked, his voice tentative.
"Just watch for his reactions," Karen instructed, her robotic eyes flickering as
she observed Plankton's peaceful expression. "If he relaxes, you're doing it
right. If not, you're doing too much."
Patrick nodded, his tentacles hovering anxiously. "But how do I show him
interest and care, without touching?"
Karen considered his question, her robotic brain processing. "Words can
be powerful, too," she said finally. "Ask him about his day, what he's been
working on. Show genuine interest in his life."
Patrick nodded, his tentacles retracting slightly. "I can do that," he murmured.
"Plankton enjoys talking about his inventions," Karen began. "He finds solace
in the predictability of science and engineering. It's his way of making sense
of the world."
Patrick nodded, his gaze thoughtful. "So, I should ask him about his latest gizmo?"
"Exactly," Karen said with a small smile. "And listen, really listen to what he
has to say. It's his way of sharing his world with you."
Patrick nodded, his eyes reflecting his determination to be a better friend.
"Instead of physical affection, what else might he like to show I care?" he asked
eager to learn more.
"Plankton's quite fond of his pet, Spot," Karen said, her voice a mix of fondness
and amusement. "You could offer to help play with Spot, or even bring a little
treat for him."
Patrick's eyes lit up at the mention of the tiny amoeba puppy. "Really?" he
asked, his tentacles unfurling slightly.
"Yes," Karen said with a smile, "Spot is a source of great comfort to him, they
enjoy each other." She paused, considering.
Patrick's tentacles began to twitch with excitement. "Could you get Spot?" he
asked, his voice hopeful. "Maybe having Spot here would help him feel better
when he wakes up."
Karen's smile grew. "That's a wonderful idea, Patrick," she said, and glided out
of the room, to get Spot.
Plankton's antennae twitched, and his eye began to flutter open. "Wha..."
Karen returned with Spot in tow, the little amoeba wagging its tail. She
placed the small creature gently on the bed with Plankton. "Look who's
here to see you," she said, voice a gentle coo.
Plankton's antennae perked up at the sight of his little amoeba bounced over.
Patrick watched as the tiny creature brought a rare smile to Plankton's face.
"Hey, bud," Plankton murmured.
Spot in Plankton's arms, licking his face with its tiny, slimy tongue. Plankton
giggled.
"Good boy," he murmured, his antennae twitching with delight. The sight of
Spot's excitement seemed to ease some of the tension in his body.
Patrick watched from the side, his tentacles twitching with the desire to join
in the moment of levity. He knew he had to tread carefully, but he also knew
Plankton's smile was worth it.
"How about we play a game? Spot can come too." he suggested, voice soft
and tentative.
Karen nodded, her smile genuine. "That's a great idea. Plankton loves a good
trivia game."
Patrick's eyes lit up. "I know just the thing!" He dashed out of the room and
returned with a battered old board game titled "Bikini Bottom Brainiac Challenge."
"This is perfect," Karen said, her voice filled with relief. She knew how much
Plankton enjoyed a good intellectual showdown.
Patrick set up the game with shaky tentacles, and Plankton's antennae twitched
with curiosity and eagerness.
"What's the rules?" Plankton asked, his voice still a little raspy from his episode.
He's still holding Spot.
"Simple," Patrick said, his tentacles steady as he unfolded the board. "We take
turns answering trivia questions. If you get one right, you move forward. If not
you go back."
Plankton's antennae wiggled with excitement. "I've got this," he declared, his
competitive spirit briefly overriding his exhaustion.
"Let's start with an easy one," Karen suggested, her robotic voice filled with a
motherly concern.
Patrick nodded, picking up a card. "Alright, Plankton," he began, his tone light, "who
invented the telephone?"
Plankton's antennae shot up. "Alexander Clam Bell," he said with a smug smile, and
Spot barked in excitement.
Karen chuckled. "Correct," she said, moving his game piece forward. "Patrick's question."
Plankton pulled a card from the pile, his tentacles shaking slightly. "Okay," he said, "who
was the first sea creature to walk on land?"
Patrick thought for a moment, his tentacles tapping the side of his head. "I know this
one," he exclaimed. "It was..." He paused, trying to remember the name from one of Mr.
Krabs' many history lessons. "Gilligan!"
Karen's robotic laugh filled the room. "I'm afraid not, Patrick. It was actually the first
amphibian, not a sea creature, who walked on land."
Plankton rolled his eye. "It's okay, Patrick. It was a good guess," he said, his tone kinder
than the usual sarcasm.
Patrick chuckled, feeling a bit silly. "Alright, I'll work on my history," he said, moving his
piece back. "Your turn, Karen."
The game continued, the tension in the room slowly dissipating with each question
and laugh. Plankton's eye lit up with each answer he knew, his antennae waving with
excitement. The simple act of playing together brought a sense of normalcy to the situation.
Karen's questions were more science-based, which Plankton devoured. "What is the chemical
composition of seawater?" she asked, her robotic eyes gleaming with challenge.
"Easy," Plankton said, his voice growing stronger with each word. "It's mostly sodium chloride
with traces of other salts and minerals."
Patrick watched as Plankton's confidence grew with every correct answer, his antennae
standing tall. The game was a balm to his friend's frazzled nerves, a gentle reminder of
the Plankton he knew before the meltdown. "Your turn," he said.
Karen's question was about the ocean's currents, and Plankton felt a twinge of excitement.
"Oh, I know this one," he exclaimed. "It's all about the Coriolis Effect is what makes the water
spin in different directions in the northern and southern hemispheres!"
Patrick nodded, his tentacles twirling with enthusiasm. "Wow, Plankton, you're really
good at this!"
But as he went to roll the dice, his excitement got the better of him. The dice slipped from
his grasp, bouncing straight Plankton's open eye. Plankton yelped in pain.
Patrick's tentacles froze mid-air, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh no!" he exclaimed, reaching
out to help his friend.
But Plankton was already recoiling, his antennae flailing as he clutched his eye. "Ow!!"
Patrick's heart sank. "I'm so sorry!" he exclaimed, reaching out to comfort his friend.
But Plankton was already on the defensive, arms swiping at the air as if trying to swat
away the pain, his eye watering.
Patrick's tentacles retreated immediately, the gravity of his mistake weighing heavy
on him. "I didn't mean to," he said, his voice tight with regret. "I'm sorry, Plankton."
Plankton's eye watered, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the pain.
Karen's eyes went wide with alarm, and she was at his side in an instant.
"Plankton?"
Plankton rubs his eye with his tiny hand. "Just... just give me a moment."
Patrick gets a small bag of ice with a cool cloth. "Here," he says, holding it out
tentatively. "Cold might help Plankton.."
Plankton's eye is still red and watery, but he takes the ice pack. "Thanks," he mumbles
placing the cool compress on his eye.
After a few moments, he lets out a sigh. "It's ok," he says, his voice a mix of pain and
annoyance. "It may bruise."
Patrick looks at him with a mix of relief and guilt. "Are you sure you're ok?" he asks,
his tentacles hovering.
"Yes!" Plankton exclaimed, antennae shooting up. He winced as he tried to open the
eye fully, but the pain was too much. "But I can handle it," he said through gritted teeth.
Plankton took a deep breath, the silence in the room thick with the sting of pain. He knew
he had to say something, to apologize for how he treated Patrick.
"Look," he began, gruff but sincere. "Sorry
if I've been a bit... much.."
Patrick's tentacles twitched with emotion.
"It's ok, Plankton," he said, his voice thick.
"I just didn't know how to help."
"You're trying," Plankton said, antennae
dropping slightly. "And that's more than
anyone else has ever done, other than
Karen and Spot of course." Plankton's
antennae twitched, his voice a little
softer than usual. "You're just to... to
enthusiastic for me most times."
Patrick nodded. "I'll be more careful,"
he murmured.
Karen looked at him with a mix of gratitude
and pity. "Patrick, it's not your fault," she said.
"Plankton's condition is complex, and even I
struggle to sometimes. Plankton's not like
everyone else. He needs his space, his
quiet and his routines."
Patrick nodded, his tentacles drooping
slightly. "I'll do better," he said, earnest.