TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE
(by NeuroFabulous)
𓇼 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 🕊️🩰🐚
Pt. 24
"Coko, coo," Plankton murmurs, his eye
unfocused, his antennae
quivering slightly. Karen
squeezes his hand tighter,
trying to ground him.
"Remember, we're at Hanna's."
Chip's eyes widen, hearing
his dad's strange speech.
"What's coko?" he whispers
to his mom. Karen smiles
softly. "It's okay, Chip.
Sometimes during a seizure,
his speech gets...scrambled."
Plankton's hand reaches
out, searching for something
to anchor him. "Go,"
he says. "The...the...
the...what's called?"
He's trying to find
the words. "The...cow," he says
decidedly. "Cow?" Plankton
giggles, repeating himself. "Cow!"
"It's okay, Plankton," Karen
says gently. "You're just
trying to find your words."
Chip watches, his eyes
filled with confusion.
"But why is he talking
like that?" he asks,
his voice low.
Karen's eyes are filled
with compassion as
she explains. "It's part
of the seizure, Chip.
His brain is firing differently,
mixing things up."
Plankton's giggle turns
into a full laugh, his
body shaking slightly.
"Cow," he repeats,
his voice louder now.
Karen and Chip exchange
a concerned look, but Karen
smiles gently, knowing
this phase can pass quickly.
"Remember, Plankton,
we're at Hanna's. You're okay."
Plankton nods, his laugh
fading into a smile as
his gaze locks onto the
spinning ceiling fan. "Fan,"
he murmurs, his hand moving
to mimic its motion. "Fan-ny
fanny fan." Karen knows he's
trying to make sense of the
world again, and she's here to
help guide him back.
"That's right," she says,
keeping her voice steady. "It's
a fan." Chip watches,
his curiosity piqued but
his concern foremost. He's
knew not to laugh at his
dad's strange speech, but it's
hard not to find some humor
in the absurdity of the moment.
"Fan-ny," Plankton repeats,
his voice taking on a sing-song
quality. "The cow, says meow."
Karen chuckles, her heart
warming at the nonsensical
sentences. It's a sign
his brain is trying to
reconnect, to make sense of
the world again. "No, Plankton,"
she corrects gently. "The fan
doesn't say meow. It's ju—"
But she's interrupted by
Hanna, who comes in to
check on them. "Hey guys!
So, what's the plan for movie night?"
Her cheerfulness is a stark
contrast to the scene she's
walked in on. Plankton's
laughter grows louder, his
eye glazed over.
Hanna's smile falters, her
eyes wide with worry.
"Is he okay?" she asks,
stepping closer, confused.
Karen knew Plankton's
not gonna want Hanna
to find out about his
autistic neurodisability.
"It's just something he
does," Karen says quickly,
as Plankton starts to crawl.
"He'll be fine in a bit."
Hanna watches as
drool starts to dribble
from the corner of Plankton's
mouth. "What's happening?"
she asks, her voice laced
with concern. "It's like he's
in a dream state, or someth-"
Her words are drowned
out by Plankton's chuckle,
his body wriggling on the
floor. "Cow!" he exclaims.
Karen knew he's gonna
come out of it soon, and
she didn't want Hanna to
be in his personal space
right now. "Why don't we give
a bit more time?"
she suggests, her tone
remaining calm. "We'll be
ready for movies soon."
Hanna nods, her smile
forced. "Okay," she says,
backing out of the room.
The door closes, leaving
them in privacy. Karen's heart
thuds in her chest. She's
seen this a hundred times,
but it never gets easier.
Plankton's eye blinks
slowly, his antennae
still. The room seems to
come back into focus,
the colors slowly solidifying
from the blur they had
been. "Karen?" he whispers,
his voice hoarse.
"I'm here," she says, her
voice a comforting
presence in the room.
"You had a seizure, but
you're okay now."
Plankton's eye widens,
his antennae shooting up.
"Oh," he murmurs, his
voice distant. He looks
around the room, taking
in the familiar yet foreign
surroundings of Hanna's
guest room. "What...were
we talking? I feel like I was
but I...I can't remember."
Karen's hand is still
clasped in his, her thumb
continuing to rub his skin
in a soothing pattern. "You
were talking about a cow,"
she says with a small smile.
"But it's okay. You're okay."
Plankton's antennae droop
slightly, his cheeks coloring
with embarrassment. "A cow?"
He repeats, his voice
still weak. "Did I... did
I say anything else? And
why the barnacles am I on the
floor?"
Karen laughs, her eyes
twinkling with affection. "You
got a bit overwhelmed,"
she says, her voice gentle.
"But you're okay now."
Plankton nods, his antennae
slowly rising. "I'm sorry,"
he whispers. "I didn't mean to-"
Karen shakes her head, her
smile warm. "Don't apologize,
Plankton. It's just part of
who you are." She helps
him to his feet, her arms
supporting him. "Let's get
you cleaned up."
Chip watches, his heart
still racing. He's seen
his dad like this before,
but it never gets easier. He
wants to help, but he's
learned that sometimes, the
best thing to do is just be
present.
Karen leads Plankton to
the bathroom, her arm
around his waist, his hand
in hers. "Let's get you
cleaned up," she says,
guiding him gently.
The cool water feels good
on his face, the sensation
helping to ground him. Karen
wipes his mouth with
a washcloth, her movements
careful and precise.
He leans into her touch,
his body craving the
predictability. "Thank
you," he murmurs.
Karen hands him a towel,
her gaze understanding.
"You're welcome," she says.
"Remember, Plankton,
you're not alone in this."
Karen leads Plankton
and Chip to the living
room where Hanna's
waiting for them.
"Are you okay?" Hanna
asks, her eyes filled with
concern. Plankton nods,
his antennae twitching.
"Of course," he says
matter-of-factly. "Why
wouldn't I be?"
Hanna's gaze lingers on
his still-flushed cheeks,
his slightly unfocused
eye. "You just...you
seemed out of it," she
says, her voice tentative.
Plankton's antennae quiver,
his mind racing. "What are
you talking about?" He asks
Hanna, glaring at her.
"You know, when you were
laughing and talking about
cows," Hanna says, her eyes
still wide with concern. "And
drooling a bit." Plankton's
face reddens, his antennae
springing up.
Karen jumps in, her
voice calm. "It's just a little
quirk, Hanna," she says with
a smile. "He's fine. Now,
about that movie night?"
Hanna nods, her expression
still slightly puzzled,
but she lets it go. "Right!
Let's get cozy!" She says,
clapping her hands together.
Plankton sits back down
on the couch, his antennae
twitching as he tries to
regain his composure.
He knows he can't let his
condition define him, but
sometimes it's so hard to
keep up the façade. He's
grateful for Karen's quick
thinking, for Chip's quiet
support.
Hanna starts setting
up the board games, her
energy seemingly boundless.
Plankton's eye flits around
the room, taking in the
colors and the clutter.
He can feel his anxiety
building, his thoughts racing.
But he takes a deep breath.
"Do you want to play?"
Hanna asks, her smile wide.
"Sure," Plankton responds,
his voice steady despite
his inner turmoil. Chip
and Karen knew of his
competitive spirit..
The game starts, and
Plankton's stims return.
His fingers move over
the armrest. "What's with
your hands?" Hanna asks,
watching Plankton's hand
move. "It's okay, Hanna,"
Karen jumps in, her tone
calm. "It's just something
he does." She doesn't
elaborate further, not wanting
to make a big deal of it.
But Hanna's curiosity is
piqued. She's never seen
anyone act like this before.
Plankton's eye darts
to his hand, his antennae
twitching. He feels the
weight of Hanna's gaze,
his cheeks flushing. Karen
squeezes his hand, her
silent support reassuring.
Hanna's eyes wander from
the game to Plankton's
hands, then back to her
cards. She's curious.
Plankton feels the heat
of her gaze, his stims
intensifying. He tries
to ignore it, focusing on
the game. But every time
he glances up, her eyes
are on him, watching his
hands move, her brow
furrowed. It's unnerving,
but her curiosity doesn't
wane.
"So, what's the deal with
the hand thing?" Hanna asks
finally, unable to hold back.
Plankton's antennae snap
straight up, his hand stalling
mid-stim. "What hand
thing?" he says, his voice
sharp. Karen's grip on his
hand tightens, a silent warning.
Hanna's eyes widen at
his tone. "I just meant,
why do you...you know,
move your hands like that?
What does it do for yo-"
"It's none of your concern!"
Plankton snaps, his antennae
waving agitatedly.
Karen's eyes dart
between Hanna's shocked
expression and Plankton's
flushed face. She can feel
the tension in the room
spike. "Plankton, maybe
we should-"
But Plankton cuts her
off, his voice rising. "I don't
have to explain myself to
her!" He says, his antennae
waving wildly. Chip's heart
sinks. He's seen his dad
like this before, but it's
always different, always
worse when it's in front
of someone new.
Hanna's face falls, her smile
replaced with hurt. "I'm just
trying to understand,"
she says, her voice small.
"I didn't mea-"
But Plankton's not
listening. "It's none of
your business," he repeats,
his voice cold. Karen's heart
sinks. She knew this was
going to happen, that
Plankton's stress would
boil over into something
unpleasant.
"Plankton," she starts, but
he shakes his head, his
eye focused on the game
now. "I don't owe anyone
explanations," he says,
his hand resuming its
erratic movements.
Hanna's eyes fill with
unshed tears, her cheeks
flushing with embarrassment.
"I didn't mean to-"
But Plankton's attention
is fully on the game, his
stims more pronounced than
ever. Karen sighs, her
heart aching for both Hanna
and Plankton. She knows
his behavior isn't intentional,
but it's still painful to watch.