𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 8
Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous
https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all
Read the Autism And All one first!
By the next week, Plankton's
completely recovered
from the wisdom teeth
ordeal. And Chip's now
ready to attend the new
school.
The first day of school is a
flurry of nerves and excitement.
Chip puts on his best smile,
his backpack bulging with
supplies. Plankton's in the
kitchen, his usual self,
rambling about his latest
invention. Karen's voice
floats from the hallway.
"Remember, Chip. If you
see someone who's
different, don't stare or
make fun. Just be kind."
Chip nods before heading
out the door.
At school, Chip notices
a boy in his class, Timmy,
who flaps his hands and
makes noises during
storytime. Chip feels a
pang of recognition—his
dad does that too when he's
excited. He watches as
Timmy's classmates giggle,
whispering behind their
hands. Chip's heart squeezes
with a mix of empathy and
sorrow. He approaches
Timmy at lunch. "Hi," he says,
his voice tentative. Timmy
looks up, his eyes wide.
"You're new," Timmy says,
his voice high-pitched. "Yes,"
Chip replies with a small
smile. "My name's Chip." Timmy
bobs his head, his hands
still moving.
"What's wrong with your
hands?" Chip asks, his voice
soft. Timmy looks down, his
cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry,
I didn't mean to be rude,"
Chip adds quickly. But Timmy
smiles, showing a gap in
his teeth. "It's okay," he says.
"I have autism." Chip's eyes
widen, his mind racing back
to his dad's stims. "It's just
how I show I'm happy."
Timmy's words resonate with
Chip, and he feels a sudden
connection. "My dad has
autism too," he confides.
Timmy's eyes light up. "Really?"
He asks, his movements
ceasing for a moment.
"Yeah," Chip says, taking
a seat next to Timmy.
"Sometimes it's hard, but
he's pretty cool. But it's
also really tough for him."
Timmy nods, his hands
resuming their gentle flapping.
"It's not easy," he says. "But us
autistics are like superheroes, you
know? Our brains just work
a bit differently." Chip
can't help but smile at the
analogy. "Yeah," he says, "like
you guys have special powers."
Timmy's face lights up. "Exactly!"
He exclaims. "And sometimes,
our powers can be really
helpful. Like, I'm really good at
math and remembering stuff."
He beams with pride.
Chip feels a twinge of
understanding, remembering
his dad's obsession with the
Krabby Patty formula. "My dad's
good at inventions," he says.
"But sometimes, his brain can get
really, really overwhelmed." Timmy
nods. "Some days, my head does
too," he says.
The bell rings, signaling the
end of lunch. Chip and Timmy
quickly exchange numbers,
promising to talk more. As
Chip heads to his next class,
his mind is a whirlwind. He's
always known his dad was
different, but seeing someone
his age with the same
challenges brings a new
perspective.
In the classroom, he can't
concentrate. Plankton's words
echo in his mind: "I'm not
enough. I'll never be enough."
He feels guilty for his earlier
frustrations, for not
understanding the depth of
his dad's struggle.
During recess, Chip finds
Timmy alone.
Timmy's eyes scan the
playground, his hands
still. "You okay?" Chip asks.
Timmy looks up. "Yes. Hey you
know what helps me?" Timmy
asks, his voice hopeful. "I make
fun of my autism, like it's a
superpower. It makes me
feel better when people laugh
with me." Chip looks confused. "How
do you mean?"
Timmy grins. "I pretend
my flapping hands are
like wings, or my loud noises
are like sonic booms. It
makes the other kids laugh,
and it helps me feel like I
made them happy. And one
called me 'Stimmy' instead
of 'Timmy' which is okay, because
it's a part of me! I also like it
when people ask me about
it. It makes me feel seen. Make
it like a game, or something.."
Timmy says.
Chip thinks about this,
his heart racing. He's never
considered turning his dad's
stims into something fun
or cool. It's always been a
thing to just ignore. But
now, seeing Timmy's joy, he
wonders if maybe there's
another way. He makes a mental
note to ask his dad about
his favorite superheroes,
thinking maybe they can
find a way to make his
stims more like superpowers.
Timmy smiles. "For my birthday
I got this book.. I've another copy!"
Timmy says, interrupting himself
as he gives Chip a book. "It's a
fictional story about a guy
like me, but he's got superpowers
because of his autism.
Maybe your dad will like it."
Chip looks at the book titled "AUSOME
AUsomeness" and smiles,
his curiosity piqued. "Thanks,
Timmy," he says, tucking it into
his bag. "I'll show it to him."
Timmy nods, his eyes bright
with excitement. "You know,
sometimes when I feel sad or
overwhelmed, I just pretend
I'm that hero. It helps me."
Chip nods, his mind racing with
ideas. He's never seen
autism as a superpower before.
Could this be a way to help
his dad feel more like the hero
he's always been to him?
When Chip gets home,
he finds Plankton in
the living room. He sets
his bag down by the
couch as he greets his
dad, and Karen, who's in
the kitchen. "Hi, Mom; Hi,
Dad!"
Plankton's eye lights up
at the sight of him. "How
was school?" He asks,
curious as to how Chip's
first day went.
"It was ok," Chip says,
his mind still racing with
thoughts of Timmy and his
own father's autism. "I met
a kid like you, Dad." Plankton's
face falls slightly. "What do
you mean?" He asks.
"I mean," Chip starts,
his voice shaky. "He had
what you... I'll just show
you the book!"
He pulls out "AUSOME
AUsomeness" from his bag,
handing it to Plankton
with excitement. Plankton
looks at the cover, his eye
narrowing as he opens it.
"See, Dad?" Chip says, pointing
to a part where the character
uses his hand flapping to take
flight. "It's like you w---"
But Plankton's
face is a mask of anger and
hurt. "What's wrong?" Chip asks,
his heart racing. Plankton
slams the book shut.
"Don't you dare," he says, his
voice low and dangerous. "Don't
you dare patronize me, Chip."
He stands up, his hands
shaking. "I'm not some
comic book character to be
made fun of or turned into
a joke!" His voice echoes
through the house, the
pain in it palpable.
Karen rushes in, alarmed
by the sudden outburst.
"Plankton, what's wrong?" She
asks, her eyes darting
between the two.
"This," Plankton says,
waving the book. "This is
what you think of me?"
The anger in his voice is
sharp. "How
could you, Chip?" He asks,
his voice trembling. "How
could you think I'd want to
be seen like some unrealistically
childish hero?" The room
is tense, the air thick with
emotions. Karen's eyes dart
between her husband and son,
trying to gauge the situation.
Chip's face falls, the joy
from his new friendship with
Timmy dissipating. Timmy's
autistic and loved it, so why
doesn't Chip's autistic father..
"I'm sorry," he stammers, his voice
small. "I just thought...it might
help." But Plankton's anger
doesn't waver. "You thought
turning me into a caricature
would make it better?" He asks,
his voice laced with sarcasm.
"Is that what you think of
me?" Chip's eyes fill with
tears as he watches his dad's
pain unfold. "Dad, I don't
underst--"
"No," Plankton cuts him off.
"You DON'T understand. You
think it's fun to play pretend
with something that's a
daily struggle for me?" His
voice breaks. "You think making
it a game will just make
it go away?" He throws
the book across the room,
where it hits the wall with a
thud.
Chip's eyes follow the book,
his heart sinking. He didn't
mean to make his dad feel
this way. "But a new friend
of mine said--"
"I don't care what some
stranger said!" Plankton
interrupts, his voice rising.
"This is my life, Chip! My
struggle!" His hands are
shaking as he clutches the
back of the couch.
Karen steps in. "Let's talk this out,"
she says, her voice a gentle
whisper. "We're all on the
sa-"
"No!" Plankton snaps, cutting
her off. He turns to Chip, his
eye boring into his son's. "You
think my autism is a game?
You think I can just pretend
it's a superpower and poof,
everything's fine?" His voice
cracks with each word. "You
don't get it. You don't get what
it's like to have a brain that
fights you every second of
every day." His hands are in
fists now, his knuckles white.
Chip feels like he's been
punched in the gut. "Dad,
please," he whispers, his voice
shaking. "I just wanted to...I
don't know, make it better.
Make you feel...happy."
Plankton sits back
down, his shoulders slumped.
"Happy?" Plankton repeats.
"You think making a joke
out of it makes me happy?"
Chip feels like he's walking
on eggshells. "No, Dad," he says,
his voice barely above a whisper.
"I just...wanted to share
something that made us feel
better." He looks down at
his own hands, which are
now trembling. "I just want
you to be happy too."