PLUSH ONE vi
(By NeuroFabulous)
Plankton knew he could
make Krabby Patties now. He could
have the success he'd always craved!
Just then, Karen comes in
to check on him.
Her eyes widen when
she sees an envelope in
his grasp. "What's that?"
she asks.
Plankton's face lights up,
his eye shining with excitement.
"Formula," he says, his voice
quick and choppy. "Secret recipe."
Karen's eyes narrow. "How did
you get that?" she asks.
Plankton's smiling awkwardly,
his eye darting to the side. "Found
it," he murmurs, his grip
tightening on the envelope
with anticipation.
Karen's screen lights up, her eyes
shining with excitement. "Oh,
Plankton, that's amazing!" she shrieks,
clapping her hands together. Her
shrill cheer is loud for Plankton,
each clap echoing in the space.
But her excitement quickly
fades as she sees the look of terror
on his face. "What's wrong?" she asks,
seeing Plankton flinch.
"Loud," he whimpers, his eye
wide with fear. It dawns on Karen
that the sound of her clapping
was too much for him, her
screen filled with regret for getting
to excited and yelling,
knowing she's hurt him, even if
it was unintentional. "I'm soâ"
Plankton cuts her off with a
quick shake of his head. "No,"
he murmurs, his eye searching hers
desperately. "Karen, safe."
The room falls silent, the weight
of his words hanging in the air.
Karen's heart races. What had
she done wrong? Her excitement
for him had turned into a trigger.
She sits by him, her hand
tentatively reaching out...
Plankton flinches at the sudden
movement. His eye widens in fear.
Karen's heart breaks. "It's okay,"
she says, her voice gentle. "It's just
me, Karen." But her words don't
penetrate his new reality.
He clutches the envelope to his
chest, his breathing rapid. The
world around him is a minefield
of sensory overload, and she's
the unknown variable. She can
see the fear in his eye, the
way his antennae twitch.
"Plankton," she says softly,
keeping her voice low and
even. "It's okay. I'm not
going to hurt yo-"
He jumps at the sound of
her voice, his antennae shooting
up like antennas detecting a
threat. The envelope flutters
to the floor, forgotten.
"Plankton," Karen whispers,
her hand hovering in the air,
afraid to make contact. "You're
scared of me?"
He nods, his body tight as a
coiled spring, his breaths shallow.
"Karen," he says, his voice shaky.
"Love Karen."
The words hang in the air, a
testament to their bond. But the fear
in his eye tells a different story.
This is the first time he's expressed
fear of her, and it hits Karen like
a punch to the gut.
"Plankton," she says softly,
keeping her voice low, "You know I'd
never tr-"
He flinches again, the
simplicity of his fear stark.
"Need space," he mumbles,
his voice barely audible over
the pounding in her chest.
Karen nods, her hand
falling to her side. She takes
a step back, giving him
the distance he needs.
"Okay," she says, her voice
breaking. "I'll be right he-"
"No," he says, his voice urgent.
Karen's eyes follow his gaze,
understanding his distress.
They both know what that envelope
means to him, a bridge between
his old life and his new reality.
Gently, she picks it up, her hand
shaking slightly. "I'm sorry,"
she says, her voice low. "How about
if I keep my voice dow-"
But Plankton's already shaking his
head, his eye wide with panic.
"No," he says, his voice strained.
"Mine."
Karen's heart clenches. She
understands his fear, but she also
knows the importance of
his obsession. "Okay," she says,
placing the envelope in his
hands. "Let's just sit."
But then she accidentally
touches him, brushing his arm.
"Whoops," she
says, her voice
shaking. "I---"
But he pulls away, his
body rigid with tension.
"No touch," he says firmly.
Karen nods, her eyes
brimming with tears she
fights to hold back. She's
learning the dance of
his new reality, the steps
not quite familiar yet. "Okay,"
she whispers, her hand
retreating to her lap. "Let's just
ta-"
But Plankton's eye snaps to
the envelope in his hand, his
grip tightening. "Mine," he repeats,
his voice a mix of panic
and determination.
Karen nods, her heart aching.
"Okay," she says softly, her
hands in her lap. "W---"
But Plankton's eye is still on the
envelope, his grip tightening.
"NO," he says, his voice rising,
the word echoing in the room.
Karen's eyes widen, his
distress clear.
"Plankton," she whispers, her
hands up in a peaceful gesture.
"Ca--"
But Plankton's panic doesn't
subside. He clutches the envelope,
his body shaking. "SAID, NO!"
he shouts. "NO! MORE! NO MORE!"
This isn't the
man she knew, the man she'd
spoken to just moments ago.
The room feels smaller, the air
thicker with his fear.
"I'm sorry," she says, her voice
shaking. "I'll give you space."
She retreats to her own bed.
Plankton's breaths slow, his
body relaxing slightly. Karen
watches him from the corner
of her screen.
The silence stretches between
them, thick with the unspoken
words of fear and misunderstanding.
Her hand aches to reach out to him,
to soothe his anxiety, but she
knows better now. She's a stranger
in his world of sensory chaos.
Karen lies in bed, her eyes
fixed on the ceiling, her mind
whirling with what-ifs and
worries. She'd read about the
unpredictability of autism,
how it could affect people in
so many different ways. But
seeing it firsthand, feeling the
sharp edge of Plankton's panic,
was something else entirely.
Her thoughts are a tangled web
of emotions - love, fear,
determination. She'll learn
his new language, this dance
of sensory avoidance and
connection. They'll find their way
through this, together.
But for now, she needs to
respect his boundaries, the lines
he's drawn around his comfort.
The room is silent except
for Plankton quietly reading the
recipe to himself.
Her eyes follow his movements,
his lips moving as he whispers
the ingredients, his antennae
twitching with each word as
she watches him from afar.
This is her Plankton, but not.
The man she loves, lost in his
new world of patterns and fears.
Plankton's eye darts to her,
his voice a whisper. "Karen?"
The fear in his voice is palpable.
"I'm here," she says. She wants to
comfort him, to wipe away
his distress. But she knows
better now. She's a guest in
his new world, and she must
tread lightly.