𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣
Pt. 2
by NeuroFabulous
Karen knew that Plankton's
autism came with challenges,
and one of those was dealing
with sensory overload.
Her hand remained steady
on Plankton's back, knowing
to͠uch was always either a
comfort or a trigger.
Plankton's breathing began
to even out, and she could
see the tension slowly
drain from his body.
Karen looked over at Chip,
his eyes still filled with
uncertainty. She knew it
was time to explain. "Chip,"
she said, her voice calm
and steady, "Dad has something
that makes his brain work
a little differently than
ours. It's called autism."
Chip nodded, trying to
understand. "What's
that, Mom? What does
autism mean?"
Karen took a deep breath.
"It means that Dad's brain
processes things in a way
that's different from
most people's," she
explained. "Sometimes,
his brain gets really tired
from trying to make sense
of the world, and his body
has to take a little break."
Chip nodded slowly, his
thoughts racing. "So, like
his brain needs to reboot?"
"Exactly," Karen said with
a gentle smıle. "And when
it does, we have to be
extra careful and quiet. It's
like when your phone freezes
up, and you give it some
patience to figure things out."
Then Plankton's eye
blinks, now focusing.
The world slowly
came back to Plankton.
He saw Karen beside
him, her screen filled with
relief and love. "Whaa-"
He stuttered, his body
still feeling heavy. He
noticed Chip, his son,
sitting on the bed,
looking at him with
wide eyes and tears
streaking down his
face.
"Ch-Chip?" Plankton
managed to croak. The sight
of his son's presence told
him that he'd been watching.
Chip's eyes widened, hope
filling his voice as he called
out again, "Dad!" Plankton
winced.
Karen reached for Chip,
pulling him into a side hug.
"Remember, sweetie, we need
to be calm and quiet for
Dad. He's coming back."
Plankton blinked rapidly,
his senses slowly returning.
He looked at his son, then at
his wife, feeling a mix of
emotions - fear, guilt, exposed,
understanding, mortification.
Suddenly, a tic took
over. His face scrunched
up involuntarily. Chip had
never seen his dad do
this before!
"It's okay," Karen whispered
quickly to Chip, sensing his
alarm. "Sometimes, Dad's
brain needs to do little things
to get all the energy out.
It's just a part of his autism."
"Kkr-kr-kr-kr," Plankton
stims. Chip leaned in,
his eyes still full of
unshed tears. "You
okay, Da-"
"I'm fi-fi-fine," Plankton
interrupted, his voice
still stuttering. Karen
turns to their son. "Chip,
sometimes Dad's brain
needs to make little noises
or movements to get all the
extra energy out." He had
managed to keep this part
of himself hidden from his
son for so long, and now,
here he was, exposed and
vulnerable in front of him.
Chip studied his dad's tics
closely. Plankton's eye
was blinking rapidly, and
his tongue clicked
against the roof of
his mouth, creating a
staccato.
Chip leaned closer, trying
to mimic the sound with
his own mouth. "You sound
like a dolphin! How do-"
"Chip," Plankton interrupted,
his voice tight with anger and
self consciousness, "that's
ENOUGH, so STOP IT."
The sharpness of Plankton's
tone cut through the room,
silencing Chip's curiosity.
He hadn't meant to upset
his dad. He just wanted to
make him feel better. The
twitches and noises of his
tics had now stopped, but
the tension was palpable.
"I-I'm sorry, Dad," Chip
stuttered, his voice small.
Tears glistened in his eyes.
Karen looked at Plankton with
concern. "Honey," she began
gently, "we need to talk to
Chip about this. He doesn't
know what's happe—"
"I KNOW what's happening!"
Plankton snapped, cutting her
off. His anger was palpable.
"He doesn't need to see this!"
The room fell silent except
for the sound of Plankton's
quick, shallow breaths. Karen
swallowed hard, knowing
that she had to handle
this situation with care.
But Plankton didn't want his
son to see him like this,
so out of control. "Get out!"
he shouted at Chip. "I don't
want you here!" His voice
was raw, his emotions
spilling over. Chip's eyes
widened in shock, his
mouth dropping open in
a gasp.
He had never seen his
dad so angry before. His heart
was racing, his own chest
tight with fear. "But, Dad-"
he began.
"I said get̴ out!" Chip
scurried away, his feet
thumping on the floor as
he rushed to leave. The door
slammed shut behind him,
leaving him in the hallway.
He leaned against the wall,
his breaths coming in
quick, sharp gasps.
Tears rolled down Chip's
screen as he tried to
make sense of what had
just happened. His dad had
never yells at him like that.
He felt a pang of hurt, but
also fear. What had he done
wrong? He just wanted to
help.
Karen stepped out of the
room, leaving Plankton
alone with his guilt. She
knelt down beside Chip,
pulling him into a warm
embrace. "It's okay," she
whispered, her voice thick
with emotion. "Dad didn't
mean to scare you. He's
just overwhelmed."
Chip sniffled, his eyes
still on the closed door.
"But why is he so mad?" he
asked, his voice small and
shaky. Karen sighed. "He's not
mad at you, Chip. He's just
scared and confused. Sometimes
his brain gets too much
information, and it's hard
for him to handle it all."
Chip looked up at his mom,
his eyes searching hers for
understanding. "But why did he
tell me to leave?"
Karen took a deep breath.
"Chip, your dad loves you so
much," she said, her voice
soft and gentle. "But sometimes
his autism makes him feel
things really intensely. He's
not mad at you, he's just upset
because he didn't want you to
see him like that. Sometimes, when
people with autism get overwhelmed,
their emotions can come out in
big ways, even when they don't
mean to scare us."
Chip wiped his nose with the
back of his hand. "But why
doesn't he tell me about it?" he
asked, his voice quivering. "Why
does it have to be a secret?"
Karen sighed heavily. "Because
sometimes, people feel embarrassed
or scared to talk about things
that make them different." She
rubbed his back soothingly. "But now
that you know, we can help him
feel less alone."
Chip nodded, but his heart
was still racing. He didn't
understand why his dad couldn't
just tell him. "But he was so
angry," he murmured.
Karen nodded, her eyes sad.
"I know it's hard, but it's
important we talk to him
about it," she said. "We need
to let him know we're here
for him."
They both took deep breaths,
preparing themselves for the
conversation ahead. They
walked back into the room,
where Plankton still sat on the
edge of the bed, his head
in his hands.
"Plankton," Karen began,
her voice soft. "We need
to talk to him about your
autism." But Plankton was
still too lost in his own
head to listen.
He sat there, his antennae
twitching rapidly, his body
swaying slightly. He was
in his own world.
Karen watched him, her
heart aching. She knew
his anger wasn't directed
at Chip, but at himself,
his own limitations. She
also knew that this was
the best time to start
the conversation they had
been avoiding. "Plankton,"
she said softly. "We need
to tell Chip about what your
autis–"
"NO!" Plankton shouted,
his stims escalating. "It's
none of his business!" He
shouts, looking at Chip.
Chip's eyes widened at
his dad's outburst. He had
never seen him like this.
Karen's grip on Chip's hand
tightened, but she didn't
move to leave. "Plankton,"
she said, her voice calm,
but firm, "Chip found you.
He's already seen i---"
"I DIDN'T WANT HIM
TO SEE!" Plankton's
voice was sharp, his
body shaking slightly.
"I DON'T WANT HIM
TO KNOW ANYMORE!"
The words echoed in
the room, each one a
dull thud to Karen's
heart. Plankton's stims
were more pronounced
now, his tongue clicking
against the roof of his
mouth in a rapid,
nervous pattern. "Kkr-kr-kr,"
he repeated, his eye
squeezed shut.
Chip watched, his
small chest rising and
falling with quick
breaths. He had never
seen his dad like this,
so out of control. But
his fear was now
mingled with curiosity.
"What's happening, Mom?"
he whispered.
"It's okay, sweetie,"
Karen assured him, her voice
still calm despite the
tension in the room.
"Dad's just trying to
make sense of everything.
Sometimes, people with
autism do things called
stims to help them cope."
