＃ＫｎｅｅＳｕｒｇｅｒｙ pt. 6
Sandy heads to the
kitchen, her steps
slow and deliberate. Karen
follows, giving her a
quick hug. "It's okay,"
she whispers. "He'll come
around." Sandy nods, her voice
shaking. "I hope so."
In the living room, Plankton's
leg throbs under the
weight of the cast, a
constant reminder of his
new limitations. Karen
joins him, handing him a
pillow.
"Here," she says softly.
"This should help."
He takes it, his antennae
twitching slightly as
he adjusts his position
on the couch.
Sandy emerges from
the kitchen, her eyes
red-rimmed but her smile
firmly in place. "Snacks,"
she says, setting a plate
on the coffee table.
Plankton nods, his eye
half-closed. "Thank you,"
he murmurs, his voice
softening. Sandy
swallows hard, the
hurt from his earlier
outburst still raw. Karen
sits beside him, her hand
on his shoulder.
"I know you're
frustrated," Karen says
gently. "But Sandy worries
for you." Plankton nods,
his antennae drooping.
"I know," he says, unable
to find the words.
Sandy takes a
deep breath, her gaze
on the floor. "I'm sorry
for...everything." Her
voice cracks. Plankton's
eye opens fully, his
expression softening. "I know,
Sandy. I know."
Karen squeezes his hand.
"We all do." Sandy's smile
is sad.
"But I'm fine," he insists,
his voice strained. "Just tired."
Sandy nods. Karen
sits quietly, her hand
still on his shoulder,
providing silent support
as Plankton's eye closes again.
The room is still, the
only sound the occasional
crunch of a chip. Sandy
clears her throat. "Is there
anything else I can do?"
Her voice is tentative, hopeful.
Plankton's antennae
twitch. "No." He doesn't
open his eye. "Just let me
rest." Sandy nods, her
face a mask of regret.
Karen sighs, watching
as her husband's chest
rises and falls with
his deep breaths. She knows
his stubbornness will keep
him from admitting
his pain, but she also knows
his limits, the tension
in the room slowly
dissipating as Plankton
begins to doze.
The doorbell rings,
breaking the silence.
Sandy jumps, startled.
Karen looks at the clock.
It's Mr. Krabs, arriving
to see why his rival
Plankton hasn't tried to
steal his secret recipe.
Her heart sinks. This could
be bad timing.
"I'll get it," Sandy says,
quickly moving to the door.
Karen nods, her hand
still on Plankton's
shoulder. She whispers,
"Remember, love, we're
here for you."
Sandy opens the door
to find Mr. Krabs, his
eyes wide with surprise.
"What happened to
Plankton?" he asks,
his voice a mix of
concern and suspicion.
"I've not seen him in a
while; must be planning
something big.."
Karen sighs, her gaze
flicking to her sleeping
husband as Mr. Krabs
comes in.
"Plankton had an accident,"
she says, her voice
measured. "He broke his leg."
Mr. Krabs' expression morphs
from suspicion to shock.
"What? No way!"
Karen nods, keeping
her voice low. "It's true.
He's in recovery."
Sandy's eyes dart to
Plankton, now snoring
softly on the couch.
Mr. Krabs approaches
his sleeping rival,
eyes narrowing. "What's
that on his leg?"
"It's a cast," Karen
explains, her tone
even. "He's going to need
help for a few weeks."
Mr. Krabs' claws clench,
his suspicion clear.
Krabs looks at
the cast skeptically.
"Well, if he's out of commission,
then I suppose we can
call a temporary truce,"
he says. Karen
nods. "That would be
kind of you." Sandy smiles
weakly. "He's not
the enemy right now,"
she murmurs, her eyes
on Plankton.
Mr. Krabs seems to
consider this,
his gaze lingering on
Plankton's sleeping form.
"Fine," he says gruffly.
Karen sighs with relief,
guiding Mr. Krabs to a chair.
"Thank you. I know this isn't
easy for him to accept."
Sandy nods in
agreement. "He's always
so independent."
Mr. Krabs grumbles,
but his eyes soften.
"He's a tough little
feller."
As they sit in
the living room,
the sound of Plankton's
snores punctuating the
silence, Mr. Krabs
notices drool slowly
seeping from the corner
of Plankton's mouth as
his snores grow louder.
"Looks like he's out
cold," Mr. Krabs says.
"Is he okay?"
"He's fine," Karen
reassures him. "Just
sleeping. It's part of
his healing process."
Mr. Krabs clears his throat,
his expression unreadable.
"Well, if he's not going to
be a problem for a while,
I suppose I can spare
time to help."
Sandy's eyes widen,
hopeful.
Karen's smile is
genuine. "That would be
wonderful, Mr. Krabs. We
could really use the
extra hands."
Mr. Krabs nods, his
claws tapping the arm
of the chair. "But I'm
not cooking, got it?"
They all chuckle
softly, the tension
easing slightly.
"I can't believe he's
out for the count,"
he murmurs, almost
to himself, when Plankton's
drool forms a small puddle
on the couch. "Uhm," Krabs
says, "Plankton is gonna
need to be cleaned up."
Karen nods, not wanting
to wake her husband.
Sandy jumps up to help,
but Krabs stops her.
"No, no," he says gruffly.
"Let me—"
But before he can
finish, Plankton's snores
turn into a low moan.
His antennae twitch,
his good leg moving
slightly. "His pain
meds are wearing off,"
Karen whispers. Sandy
quickly grabs the
water and pills from
the side table,
handing them to Karen.
Karen gets the
water and pills,
moving to Plankton's
side. She gently
shakes his shoulder.
"Honey," she says softly.
"It's time for your
medicine."
Plankton's eye
flickers open, his
expression a mix of
pain and irritation as
he sees Mr. Krabs.
"What are you doing
here?" he grumbles,
his voice thick with
sleep and pain.
Mr. Krabs coughs,
his claws raising in a
defensive gesture. "Just
came to check on
the...competition," he says,
his voice trailing off as
he looks at the cast.
Sandy and Karen exchange
a nervous glance.
Plankton's antennae
twitch with annoyance.
"I don't need your pity,"
he says through gritted
teeth, his pain evident.
Mr. Krabs' eyes narrow.
"Pity? Pah! I'm just
making sure you're not
plotting anything, while
you're...drooling."
Plankton's face flushes
when he puts his hand
to his mouth, realizing
he's been drooling in his sleep.
He wipes at his mouth
quickly before taking the
pills and water.
"Thanks," he mutters,
his voice gruff.
Karen helps him sit up
more comfortably,
his leg propped on
the pillow. Mr. Krabs
clears his throat, looking
slightly embarrassed.
"Well, I've got a...uh,
question," he says.
Sandy and Karen exchange
another look, but Plankton
seems too tired to care.
"What is it?" he asks,
his patience wearing thin.
Mr. Krabs shifts in his
chair. "I was wondering
if, during your...ahem,
cast, if you broke your
leg, what'd they do to
it before putting it in a cast?"
Sandy's eyes widen
slightly, but she remains
silent, allowing Plankton
to answer. Plankton
sighs, his antennae
drooping. "They had to
use some kind of special
bone glue," he says, his
tone weary. "And now I've
got this monstrosity on
me for six weeks."
Mr. Krabs' eyes go
wide. "Bone glue?"
he repeats. "No way!
What did it look like?"
Plankton groans,
his frustration
clear. "I s'pose it
looked like...
glue," he says, his
voice trailing off.
"Whaddya mean
you s'pose? You
were there!" Krabs
asks. "How'd it..."
Plankton cuts him off,
his antennae standing tall.
"It was a blur," he snaps.
"You were asleep, weren't
you?" Sandy says, earning
her a glare from Plankton.
Mr. Krabs, however, seems
even more fascinated, his
curiosity of Plankton piqued.
"How'd that work?" he asks,
his claws tapping
nervously. "I mean, they
just put you out? But
what did it feel like? Did
you feel them sticking
your bones together, or...?"
Plankton sighs, frustrated/angry,
his antennae drooping. "They
put me under, okay?" he
says, his voice tight. "I don't
know what it felt like." "But
you were there!" Krabs insists.
"W---" "I SAID I DON'T KNOW!"
Plankton shouts, his
pain and irritation boiling
over. His grip on the
pillow tightens, knuckles
white. Karen's eyes widen,
and Sandy takes a step back,
alarmed. "I didn't see
anything. It was just...
nothingness."
Mr. Krabs leans back
in his chair, his
claw steepled under his
chin.
"Hmm," he says,
his voice thoughtful. "And
you're sure you weren't
dreaming about stealing
me secret recipe?"
Sandy laughs nervously,
trying to diffuse the
tension, but Plankton's
face turns a deeper shade
of red. "I was UNCONSCIOUS,"
he growls. Mr. Krabs holds up
his claws in defense.
"Just checking!" he says,
his eyes gleaming. "But
seriously, what's it like
being put under..."
"I woke up!" Plankton
exclaims, his antennae
twitching. "With a giant
cast on my leg! I don't
remember any dreams.
It was just... nothing."
Sandy tries to lighten
the mood. "Maybe you
dreamt about jellyfish,"
she suggests with a
weak smile.
Mr. Krabs' eyes light
up. "Jellyfish? Did you
see an–"
"NO!" Plankton snaps. "No
dreams, no jellyfish. Just...
nothingness."
Mr. Krabs seems
disappointed but
quickly recovers. "Well, if
you say so," he says,
his tone nonchalant. "But
you're sure you didn't
see anyth—"
"KRABS!" Plankton's
voice booms through
the room, cutting off
his rival's question. "I
told you, there was
nothing!" His antennae
wave in agitation.
Mr. Krabs' eyes
twinkle with curiosity.
"Ah, but what about
the after-effects?" he
presses on. "You know,
those fuzzy thoughts
you get when you first
wake up? Did y-"
But Plankton's patience
has reached its limit.
"I don't know what you're
talking about," he says
through clenched teeth.
"I just know that I
woke up!" Karen steps in,
placing a calming hand
on Plankton's shoulder.
"Krabs, I think we
should respect Plankton's
space right now," she says
firmly.
Mr. Krabs nods, his
expression slightly chastised.
"Right, right," he says,
his claws retreating into
his pockets. "Sorry, I'll
just get going."