COPEPOD AUTISM pt. 4
(Neurodivergent author)
Mr. Krabs's expression shifts from
shock to one of bewilderment. "Plankton,
I don't understand," he says, his voice
barely a whisper. Plankton shakes
his head, his antennae trembling.
"You never did," he snaps back.
The accusations come out in a
torrent, each one cutting deeper
than the last. "You used me,
manipulated me, all for your
stupid secret formula!" His voice
shakes with anger, his eye
filling with unshed tears. Karen's
grip tightens on his arm, but she
doesn't speak, knowing he needs
this moment of release.
Mr. Krabs's face falls, the weight
of Plankton's words a blow
he wasn't expecting. "I-I-I've
always treated ya like a
friend!" he stammers, his claws
grabbing Plankton's shoulders.
And that's what did it.
Plankton's body tenses, and
his eye rolls back in his head.
A chilling silence descends
as his legs give out, and he
crashes to the floor. His body
convulses, limbs flailing uncontrollably.
Karen knew it'd happen, but
seeing it happen to Plankton
is a horror she wasn't emotionally
prepared for, but she knew to stay
calm. She knew the protocol.
Mr. Krabs, still in shock from
Plankton's accusations, watches
the scene unfold with horror.
"What's happening?" he stammers,
his claws hovering uselessly.
Karen's voice is a beacon
of calm amidst the chaos.
"It's a seizure," she explains,
kneeling beside her husband.
"I need you to stay calm."
Her voice is steady, her eyes
never leaving Plankton's
contorting form.
Mr. Krabs nods, his eyes
widening with fear. He's
read about this, seen it
once in a medical textbook,
but never thought it would
happen to someone so close.
He watches as Karen carefully
moves any objects out of
harm's way, cushioning
Plankton's head with a pillow.
The room seems to spin around
them, each second stretching
into eternity.
The seizure lasts only a
few moments, but to Karen,
it feels like hours. When it's
over, Plankton's body goes
still, his breathing shallow.
Her hand shakes as she
checks his pulse, feeling the
thunder of her own heart
in her chest. "It's okay,"
she whispers, her voice
trembling. "You're okay."
Mr. Krabs is unsure.
"It's okay," she murmurs, her
hand stroking his antennae. "It's
over now." Plankton's breathing
deepens, his body slowly
relaxing with a twitch. She looks at Mr.
Krabs, her expression a mix
of relief and exhaustion.
"He'll be okay," she assures,
her voice a lifeline in the
storm of silence.
Mr. Krabs nods, still in
shock. "What...what do we do?"
he asks, his voice barely above
a whisper. Karen sighs,
knowing the road ahead won't
be easy, but she's determined
to navigate it with Plankton.
They manage to get Plankton to
his feet, his body weak and
his mind still groggy from the
seizure. His eye darts around
the room, trying to make sense
of his surroundings. Karen's voice
is soft, a gentle guide leading
him back to reality. "Let's go to
the couch," she says, her arm
supporting his weight.
Mr. Krabs watches, his claws
fidgeting nervously. "Should I...
call someone?" he asks, his voice
full of uncertainty. Karen shakes
her head. "We have to keep it
calm," she whispers. "The aftermath
can be just as overwhelming."
They sit on the couch, Plankton's
body leaning heavily into hers.
Her arm is around him, her hand
stroking his antennae in a rhythm
designed to soothe. He looks up
at her, his eye still a little wild.
"What happened?" he asks, his
voice barely above a whisper.
"You had a seizure," Karen
explains gently, her voice a
balm to his frayed nerves.
"It's part of your autism,
sweetie. It's okay." She can see
the fear in his gaze, the
unspoken questions. She pulls
a blanket over his shoulders,
his body shaking from the
residual adrenaline.
Plankton nods, his antennae
twitching as he tries to process
the information. He looks
down at his trembling hands,
wondering how they could have
betrayed him so suddenly. Karen
hands him a glass of water, her
fingers brushing against his
in a silent promise of support.
He takes a sip, the cool liquid
sliding down his throat,
helping to clear the fog in his mind.
"I'm...sorry," Plankton mumbles, his
voice barely a whisper. He looks
up at Mr. Krabs, who's still
standing awkwardly by the door.
"I didn't mean to...to accuse
you..." His antennae droop with
regret.
Mr. Krabs's expression softens,
his eyes filling with understanding.
"It's okay, Plankton," he says,
his voice gentle. "We all have
our moments." He takes a tentative
step forward. "What can I do?"
Karen glances at him,
gratitude warring with the
protectiveness she feels
for Plankton. "Just give us
some space," she says, her tone
firm but not unkind. "We need
to get him through this."
Mr. Krabs nods slowly, his
face a mix of sadness and
concern. "I understand,"
he says, his voice thick. He
backs out of the room,
his eyes never leaving
Plankton's huddled form.
The door clicks shut, and
the room feels smaller, safer.
Karen's arm tightens around
his shoulders, her warmth a
shield against the cold
world outside. Plankton leans
into her, his body still
shaking slightly. He starts
to calm down, the tremors
fading like ripples in a pond.
"I'm...I'm okay," he whispers,
his antennae stilling. Karen
nods, her eyes searching his
face for any sign of distress.
"Do you want to take a nap?"
she suggests softly. Plankton nods,
his eye drooping with exhaustion.
They move to the bedroom, the
light dimming as they go.
Karen helps him into bed,
his limbs feeling like jelly.
The blankets are a cocoon,
his retreat from the world.
Her hand brushes his antennae,
a silent assurance as she leaves him
to the embrace of slumber.
He closes his eye, letting the
comfort of the darkness envelop him.
His body relaxes into the
softness of the mattress,
his muscles melting away
the tension of the day.
The bed's embrace is like
a gentle whisper, telling
his overstimulated mind to
rest, to let go. He sighs,
his antennae dropping
to the pillow like tired
leaves in the fall.
Meanwhile, Karen goes
to Mr. Krabs, who's waiting
outside the chum bucket.
"I'm sorry for Plankton's outburst,"
she says, her eyes apologetic.
Mr. Krabs waves a dismissive
claw. "Don't worry 'bout it," he says.
"He's been through a lot today."
Karen nods, her expression
serious. "It's more than that,"
she says, her voice low. "He's
autistic." Mr. Krabs's eyes widen,
his understanding dawning, a
newfound respect in his gaze.
"I had no idea," he murmurs.
"How can I help?"
"Just be patient," Karen replies.
"And maybe...maybe we can talk
later, after he's had some rest."
Mr. Krabs nods, his expression
thoughtful. "Of course," he says,
his voice subdued. "Whatever he needs."