𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 7
(𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌)
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ
ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ
ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ
ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ.
ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ
ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ
ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ
ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ.
sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd
ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑
ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ
Suddenly, Plankton's
mumbling becomes a
torrent of unorganized
wording. "Bubbles, bubbles,
bubbles," he repeats,
his voice rising and
falling in an erratic
pattern.
Karen's grip on his
hand tightens. "It's okay,
Plankton," she whispers. "You're
just talking to yourself."
Chip's eyes widen in
concern. "What's happening,
Mom?" Karen's voice is calm.
"It's his brain's way of
processing stress," she says.
"He's trying to find
his calm." Plankton's
body relaxes slightly, his
tics slowing.
"Bubbles, bubbles,"
Plankton murmurs, his eye
flicking around the room.
"Karen, Karen Plankton, Karen,
Chip, tck tck tck." The words
roll off his tongue like a
wave, crashing against the
silence. Karen nods. "It's his
brain's way of categorizing,"
she says. "It's how he makes
sense of the world."
Chip's eyes are wide as he
listens to the strange litany.
"But why now?" he asks, his voice
barely above a whisper. Karen
sighs. "Sometimes, stress brings
out his 'stims' more," she
explains. "And seeing him
upset can be overwhelming for
his brain." Plankton's antennae
twitch erratically. "It's okay,
Plankton," Karen whispers. "We're
still here." Chip looks at
his mom, his eyes brimming
with unshed tears. "It's okay,
buddy," she says, her voice soothing.
"Just let him be." Chip nods.
Plankton's phrases shift again,
now a jumble of nonsensical
sounds and words. "Karen, Karen,
bubbles, Chip, bubbles, tck
tck tck." His body rocks slightly
back and forth, his hand
flapping against the blanket.
"It's like he's trying to organize
his thoughts," Karen says, her voice
calm. "It's a form of self-regulation."
Chip nods, trying to understand.
"But it's so... random," he says.
Karen smiles gently. "Karen, bubbles,
tck tck, Chip, okay, okay."
Plankton's eye darts around
the room, as if searching
for something he can't quite
see. Karen's hand is steady on
his shoulder. "It's okay," she
repeats, her voice a soft
lullaby. "You're safe."
"Mom, what's he saying?" Chip
whispers. Karen's eyes are
filled with compassion. "He's
just talking to himself," she
explains. "It's his brain's way
of sorting things out." Plankton's
phrases change again. "Mo-mo
number one, says I say, dun?"
Karen's smile is sad. "It's his
way of asking for reassurance,"
she says. "His brain's trying to
make sense of the world."
Chip nods, his mind racing to keep
up with the changing words.
"It's okay, Dad," he whispers,
his voice trembling. "You're the
best dad ever." Plankton's shakes
ease slightly, his antennae still.
Chip nods, trying to keep
his voice steady. "It's okay,
Dad," he says. "We're all here
for you." Plankton's antennae
twitch, his eye focusing on
his son. "Bath," he says,
his voice a mix of comfort and
exhaustion. Karen
nods. "He's just trying to find
his words," she says. "It's part
of his process." Plankton's hand
stops moving, his antennae
still. "Shs-shs-shs," he whispers.
"Bb-bebe, hads."
Chip's screen dart to Karen's. "What's he
saying?" he whispers. Karen's
expression is one of deep
understanding. "It's a way
of being kinda in his own
little bubble," she explains.
"His brain's way of interacting
as he's in his own world, like
daydreaming almost, but not
necessarily thinking of any
thing in particular. Like when
you don't pay attention in class."
Plankton's phrases change again,
now a mix of words and sounds.
"Wrap, tie knot, let, shwish shwish,"
he murmurs.
Karen nods gently. "It's like
his brain's doing a little dance,"
she says, "just to keep itself
comfortable." Chip watches as
his dad. "Can dad hear us right
now?" he asks, his voice small.
"Yes, he can," Karen says. "He's
just focusing on verbally stimming."
Plankton's phrases evolve.
"Fwip fwip, splash, splash, oh so
quiet, splish splash." Chip's eyes
follow the patterns his dad's hand
makes on the blanket. "It's okay,
Plankton," Karen whispers. "You
don't have to hide your sounds."
Plankton's eye flutters slightly.
Karen smiles at Chip. "It's his
brain's way of creating a safe
space," she says. "He's talking to
his 'stims'. But I think he's getting
tired, as sensory bombardment
can take it's toll."
The stimming came again. "Fweee."
Karen's eyes never leave Plankton's.
"It's ok, honey," she says, her voice
steady. Plankton's antennae droop
exhausted. "Tck tck tck, tck t---"
"Do you need to sleep, Plankton?"
Karen asks, her voice a gentle
caress in the quiet room. Plankton's
eye flits to her, then back to
his patterns on the blanket.
"It's okay if you do," she says,
her tone soothing. "Sleep can
help reset your brain. It's late."
Plankton's stimming pauses, his
body still. "Sleep," he murmurs.
The word hangs in the air, a
question wrapped in a sigh.
"Yes," Karen nods. "Sleep."
Karen stands, her movements
slow and deliberate. "Let's get
you comfy, Plankton," she says.
He crawls under the blanket
covers, now facing his pillow.
Chip watches, his eyes full of
uncertainty. "Does he always do
this?" he asks. Karen shakes her head,
her voice low. "Sometimes, when
his brain's had too much, it just
needs to reset." She tucks
Plankton in, her movements
careful and precise. "It's like
his brain's battery is running
low, and sleep is how it recharges."
Plankton's body relaxes slightly
as Karen's voice lulls him. "K-Karen,"
he whispers, his antennae
slowly drooping. "It's okay, Plankton,"
she says. "You can go to sleep."
The room is filled with a tension
that only Chip seems to feel.
"Sleep," Plankton echoes, his voice
fading. "Sleep."
Chip watches his dad, his heart
heavy with the weight of
understanding. He's never seen
his hero so vulnerable. "Mom,"
he whispers, "What if I do something
that makes it worse?"
Karen turns to him, her eyes
full of love. "You won't," she says.
"But if you're ever unsure, just
ask me or him. We're in this
together. Now, you get some
rest yourself; we'll need it after
such a day. Tomorrow we can
see if he's back to usual and
go from there. Goodnight, Chip.."