𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 12 Chip looks at his mom, his thoughts racing. "How'd Dad get this way?" He whispers, his voice barely above the soft snores of his father. Karen sighs, her eyes looking over at her husband's sleeping form. "It was during his birth," she begins, her voice soft. "It was a difficult delivery. Ma, his mother, had complications, and his brain was...affected." Chip's eyes widen. "What do you mean?" "Well," Karen explains, "his brain developed a bit differently, because of the troubles during his birth." She takes a deep breath, her eyes misting over. "Before he was born, everything was fine. But his delivery was what they call a traumatic one. It caused some damage to the part of his brain that controls how he experiences the world." Chip nods, his thoughts racing. He's heard of autism before, but never knew his dad's was due to an injury. "So his brain got hurt?" He asks, his voice small. "In a way," Karen says, wiping a tear away with her free hand. "It's not exactly like brain damage, as you might think of it. It's more like... his brain's wiring got a bit scrambled right at the start. So, he feels, sees, hears, and thinks about things in a way that's unique to him." Chip nods, his thoughts swirling. He looks back at his dad. "I don't want him to be in pain," Chip says, his voice breaking. As if on cue, Plankton's snores begin to quiet, his chest rising and falling more slowly. Chip holds his breath, watching his dad's face for any signs of waking. Karen notices the shift first, her gaze sharpening. "He's waking up," she whispers to Chip, squeezing his hand gently. Plankton's antennae twitch, his snores growing softer, until they stop altogether. His eye opens slowly, blinking against the harsh light. He looks around, confused, before his gaze falls on his family. Karen smiles gently, relief flooding her features. "Hey! We're on a bench," she says, stroking his forehead. "You had a bit of an overwhelm and fell aslee—" He sits up with a start, his body stiff. "The science fair!" He exclaims. "Did I miss Chip's turn?" Karen smiles, taking his hand. "No, you didn't miss it. Chip's already done his presentation. And guess what?" She pauses, her eyes twinkling as she turns to Chip. Chip's face lights up with excitement. "I won," he says, his voice filled with pride. Plankton's eye goes wide, his body straightening as the words register. "You did?" He asks, his voice hoarse from sleep and the earlier overstimulation. Karen nods. "Yes, he did," she says, her smile warm. Plankton turns to Chip. "Congratulations," he murmurs, his eye swiveling to his son's trophy. "Dad, I got first place," Chip says, his voice swelling with pride. He holds up his ribbon, the gold glinting in the harsh light of the lobby. Plankton manages a smile, his antennae quivering slightly. "You did," he whispers. Karen looks between them, her heart swelling. This moment, despite the difficulties, was exactly what they needed. "We're all so proud of you, Chip," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "Let's go back to the hotel and celebrate," she says, glancing at Plankton, who nods. Yet Chip looks confused, expecting more excitement from his dad. He looks at Plankton, who doesn't seem to have any emotion at all. "Dad, aren't you glad I won?" Chip asks. Plankton however doesn't even notice Chip's disappointment. Plankton nods. "Of course," he says, his voice distant. "It's amazing, son." But his words don't match his tone. Chip's smile falters slightly. "But do you feel it?" He asks, his voice small. Plankton looks at his son, his antennae twitching. "What?" He asks, genuinely confused. "Dad, I WON. I won the fair. Don't you feel excited?" Plankton nods. "I'm happy for you, Chip." He tries to smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eye. Chip's shoulders slump. He doesn't know Plankton can't do feelings the same way he expresses them. "Come on, Dad," Chip says, his voice a mix of frustration and sorrow. "Can't you just be happy with me?" Plankton blinks. "Yea?" But Chip takes it personally. Yet Plankton can't see disappointment and confusion in his son's eyes. He's trying, really trying, but his autistic brain can't process any thing wrong. He tries to mirror Chip's smile, his antennae waving slightly. But Chip can't see it, not really. He just wants his dad to be as excited as he is, to scream and cheer and jump around like everyone else's dad would. Chip's eyes brim with tears. "You don't even know how much this meant to me," he mutters, his voice choking with emotion. "And all you do is sit there like nothing's happened." Plankton registers the silence. "Uh, is something w---" "You don't get it," Chip says, his voice cracking. "You never get it!" The accusation hangs in the air, sharp as a slap. Plankton reels, his antennae drooping. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm trying." But it's not enough. Chip's frustration boils over. He jumps to his feet, the ribbon waving in the air like a sad banner of victory. "You're always trying," Chip yells. "But you never understand!" His voice echoes in the empty lobby, and Plankton wishes the floor would swallow him whole. Karen's expression tightens, but she stays silent, giving them their space. Plankton tries to stand, but his legs shake, his body still weak from overstimulation. "Chip, please," he stammers, his voice trembling. "I'm here, I'm proud of you, I'm---" But Chip isn't listening. His anger has taken over, his young mind unable to comprehend his dad's condition. "You're being selfish," Chip accuses, his eyes brimming with tears. "You can't even pretend to be happy for me!" Plankton's antennae droop further. Chip's chest heaves with sobs, his fists clenched at his sides. "You always make everything about you," he accuses, his voice high with anger. "You can't even pretend to be happy for me! You're just re---" Plankton's body goes rigid, his antennae springing straight. His eye widens in shock. The slur cut deep, deeper than anything. He's heard it whispered behind his back, seen it scribbled on bathroom walls, but never from his own son.

𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓅𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒸 𝒶𝓉𝓉𝒶𝒸𝓀𝓈 ｆａｃｔｏｒｓ：　胃イ艶 1. if you have sensory issues, the lighting and the way the store is built can actually trigger panic attacks and sympt0ms. 2. agoraphobia is a huge factor as well. basically, you don’t want to go to places where you’ve had panic attacks and obviously get prettɥ terrıfıed. ｇｅｔｔｉｎｇ　ｔｈｒｏｕｇｈ　ｉｔ：　佳なヺ it’s not particularly easy to get through these situations. it’s hãrd to go through situations that make you uncomfortable. 【ｔｉｐｓ】 1. try to bring a fidget spinner, fidget cube, or something of sort. it will help distract you a bit. it may not work a lot, but i find it helpful. 2. have water with you, where ever you go. . 3. chew some peppermint gum or suck on some peppermint candies. it may not help a lot, but if you have a dry møuth from your panic attacks, it’ll help that symptom out. 4. pretend you’re excited. i know, it won’t be that easy, but sometimes faking one emotion, can actually make that emotion happen. try convincing yourself, “i’m fine, i’m excited! it’s okay!” (source: DARE - THE NEW WAY TO END ANXIETY AND STOP PANIC ATTACKS by Barry McDonagh) 5. accept your panic attacks and anxıety. don’t say no to anxıety because then you’re pushing it a̛way and gıvıng it more pøwer. accept that you do have this going on, but you’re NOT your anxıety. 6. taking deep breaths in and out. try different patterns, it may be hãrd to breathe, but you have to t̢ry. don’t gıve up! 7. finally, try EFT. emotiona1 freedom tapping is known to help relax you. (っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ what you can bring into your regular life ♥ there are so many things you can bring in your life and routines. get ready because i’m gonna list a lot!: 1. meditation 2. eft 3. michael sealey hypnosis 4. yoga 5. exercise 6. journaling 7. bullet journaling 8. reading 9. drinking water 10. drinking herbal teas such as - chamomile, lemongrass, lavender, and etc.. 11. dancing 12. drawing and doodling 13. singing 14. playing some videogames 15. stretches 16. melatonin 17. magnesium 18. listening to motivating podcasts, videos, or songs 19. washing your fash and smiling in the mirror 20. talking positive to yourself 21. writing stories 22. doing thinking exercises in the morning to shift your negative thinking 23. watch one of your favourite shows on youtube, netflix, hulu, or whatever 24. write down on paper, something you want to do. don’t mention your fears or think about it. do something you WANT. don’t let the fear get in the way. 25. practicing some self-care 26. go outside 27. eat some delicious food 28. open your windows and let the sunlight come in 29. take vitamin d and b12! 30. smile and don’t let your panic attacks consume you. you’re a beautiful human being.

Emotional Distress Scale 0 - I feel great! This is the best I’ve felt in a long time! 1 - I’m feeling really good! There’s no distress to address. 2 - I’m feeling good. If I start feeling bothered, I can be easily distracted or cheered up. 3 - I’m okay, but there are some things bothering me. I can easily cope with them, though. 4 - I could be better. There are a few things distressing me right now. It’s not exactly easy to deal with, but I still have the skills to get through it. 5 - I’m not okay. It’s getting harder to do the things I want to do, but I can do them. My coping skills aren’t working as well anymore, but enough of them work to get me through the day. I need some support. 6 - I’m feeling bad, and it’s very hard to do the things I need or want to do. Most of my coping skills aren’t effective right now, and it’s taking a lot of energy to stay stable. I need help. 7 - I’m feeling awful. It’s hard to focus on anything but my emotions, and/or I’m avoiding things that distress me. I can’t do much but try to take care of myself, which is already hard in itself. I’m running low on, or have run out of, effective coping skills. I need a lot of help right now. 8 - I’m feeling awful, and I can’t escape it anymore. How I feel is affecting every part of my day, and I’m reaching the point where I can’t function. It’s hard to sleep, eat, socialize, etc. I need help before I can’t handle anything. 9 - This is approaching the worst I could feel. I can’t function anymore. My emotions have totally consumed me. I may be a danger to myself or others, or I may be neglecting myself. I need urgent help. 10 - This is the worst I’ve felt ever/since [last time]. I can’t care for myself at all. My emotions are so intense, I’m at imminent risk of dangerously acting on them. I need crisis support immediately. 11 - I have acted on my emotions and hurt myself or someone else. Everything else in my life is impossible to comprehend. I need medicinal and/or crisis support immediately.

9 Tʜɪɴɢs ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ Author's 𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap: 01/01/22 ┏━━━━•❅•°•❈ - •°•❅•━━━━┓ ┗━━━━•❅•°•❈ - •°•❅•━━━━┛ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☪⋆ 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲, ⒉🄀⒉⒉ ┊ ✫ #hashtag ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ༄ ✯ ⋆ ┊ . ˚ ☾ ❥ ˚✩. ‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊ʟᵉᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ. ʟᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉˢˢᵒⁿ. ғᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢᵗ. ᴀⁿᵈ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵒⁿ. ꒱ ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ⋆ ☄. ʙᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɴᵒᵗ ᵇʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵇʸ ˢᵗʳⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ˢᵉˡᶠ. sᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢⁱᵐⁱˡᵃʳ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ. sᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒᵒ. ɪᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵇⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵘⁿⁱᵠᵘᵉ. ·˚ * :telescope: ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ⇢˚⋆ ✎ ˎˊ- " ᴅᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ, ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʰᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵒᵘˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉˡᶠ-ᶜᵉⁿᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱˢʰ. ʙʸ ᵍⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ, ɪ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ. ʏᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ, ˡᵒᵛᵉ, ᵃᵗᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ, ᵗʳᵘˢᵗ... ᴛʰᵉ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗ ⁱˢ, ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ. ɴᵘʳᵗᵘʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵛᵉʳˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ʏᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɴᵒᵗ ᵃⁿʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. " ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ -`, ʏᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵘʳᵗ? ɢʳᵉᵃᵗ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ. ᴀ ᶠᵒʳᵉˢᵗ ᵍʳᵒʷˢ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇʳᵘⁿᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵘʳᵗᵘʳᵉˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ. ɴᵒ ᵍʳᵒʷᵗʰ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵗʳᵘᵍᵍˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃʳᵈˢʰⁱᵖ. ɪᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵒᵘˡ ʸᵉᵗ, ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˡˡ. ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵉˡᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵇʸ ᵃᵛᵒⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʳⁱˢᵏˢ. ᴛʰᵉ ˢᵒᵒⁿᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ⁱᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗʳᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ. ꒱ ↷🖇🥛 ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ :email: :; ʟᵒᵛᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ. ᴡᵉ ᵃˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ. ᴛʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ʷʰᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ʷʰᵒ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢ ⁱᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ. sᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵖᵘⁿⁱˢʰ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒʳ ˢᵉˡᶠⁱˢʰ ᵇʸ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵃʷᵃʸ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ. ᴡⁱˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵗʰᵉᵐ? ɴᵒ. ɪᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ⁿᵃⁱᵛᵉ. sᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ'ˢ ᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ᵒʳ ⁱⁿᵃᵇⁱˡⁱᵗʸ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜⁱᵖʳᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ. ɴᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ. ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ༘♡ ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵃˡᵘᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰⁱⁿ. ɴᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵉᵗʳᵃʸ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ɴᵉᵛᵉʳ. ᴛʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖʳᵒᵐⁱˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵒʷⁿ. ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵃʸ ⁿᵒ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇʸ ˢᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵉˡˢᵉ. ɪᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳʸ, ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳʸ ⁱˢ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ. ᴛʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ. ⋆｡˚❀ ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ _ _ ᴏʷⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. ᴡᵉ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ. ᴊᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵒʳ ˢᵃʸˢ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱˡˡᵉᵍⁱᵗⁱᵐᵃᵗᵉ, ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʳᵘᵉ. ʙᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʲᵘᵈᵍᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˡˡᵒʷ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʳᵈⁱᶜᵗ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ. ᴛᵃᵏᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳˢʰⁱᵖ. ᴜⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒⁿᵗⁱⁿᵘᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵃˡˡᵒʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ༉‧₊˚✧ ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ꒰ :vhs: ꒱°⁺ ⁀➷ ʟⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ. ᴛᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ. ɴᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ. ɴᵒᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ. ʟⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ. ᴏᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉ. ᴡᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ. ᴀˡˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶜᵉᵃⁿ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵘʳⁱᵒˢⁱᵗʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵃʳᵛᵉˡ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍˢ. ᴛʰᵃᵗ ʰᵘᵐᵇˡᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ. ┄─━ ࿅ ༻ ✣ ༺ ࿅ ━─┄ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪┊ᴅᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵃˢʰᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ. ᴄʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘʳᵍᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ. ʟᵃᵘᵍʰ ᵒᶠᵗᵉⁿ. ᴇᵃᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ. ʀᵉˢᵗ ʷᵉˡˡ. ᴡᵒʳᵏ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ. ʙᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ. ɪᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵏᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶜʰᵃʳᵍᵉ. ˎˊ˗ ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩ - ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 12 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) But Plankton was too lost in his rage to hear her. "Get OUT!" he screamed, his antennae thrashing. "I don't need Chip!" The words were a knife in Karen's, but she knew they were not truly his own. "Dad," Chip's voice was small, his eyes wide with shock. "I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's anger was a beast that had been unleashed, his words cutting like a knife. "I said get out!" he roared, his body vibrating with rage. Chip's eyes searched his father's, looking for the man he knew beneath the storm of emotions. But all he saw was a stranger, a creature of fear and frustration. He took another step back, his heart racing. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't do anything wrong.." Plankton's antennae stilled, his breathing erratic. "You're right," he murmured, his voice deflating like a balloon. "You haven't done anything wrong, in fact, you're pretty perfect." The words were laced with sarcasm, a bitterness that made Karen's fists clench. "After all, it's not like you called me burdensome or anything," he added, his voice dripping with false sweetness. Chip's eyes widened, the impact of his father's words hitting him like a slap. He looked at Karen, his eyes pleading for help, for understanding. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "That's not what I me-" But Plankton's anger had become a living entity in the room, feeding off his fear and frustration. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Did my little falling accident hurt your precious wittle feelings?" His antennae twitched, his eye glinting with rage. Chip took another step back, his chin quivering. "But Dad," he protested, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean-" "I know you didn't mean it," Plankton interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're so innocent, so pure." His antennae waved erratically. "But let me tell you a secret, Chip. You see, there's a wonderful thing called tact. Maybe you should try it sometime!" Chip felt his screen burn with embarrassment, his eyes filling with tears. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I just wanted to-" "Oh, I know what you wanted," Plankton sneered, the sarcasm dripping from his words like acid. "You wanted to be the hero, didn't you? The big strong boy who saves his daddy from his own brain!" His antennae twitched erratically. "But let me tell you something, Chip. You can't fix this. You can't make it all better with your toys and your stupid questions. So why don't we all just praise perfect little Chip for trying, shall we.." The words were a slap in the face, each one hitting Chip harder than the last. Chip's eyes filled with tears, his body trembling. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice desperate. "I just want to help." "Oh, how noble," Plankton said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Want a medal?" His antennae quivered with anger, his eye glinting with spite. "I just want to be with you," Chip said, his voice breaking. "To make you happy." "Well, you're doing a fine job," Plankton said, his voice like a whip. "Keep it up, Chip. You're a regular miracle worker." His words were barbed, each one designed to cut deep. Chip's eyes searched his father's, desperate for some sign of the love he knew was there. But all he found was anger, a wall so thick it was suffocating. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm sor-" "Don't," Plankton interrupted, his voice cold. "Don't you dare say you're sorry. You don't get to feel sorry for me. You don't get to pity me." His antennae twitched with agitation. "You don't even get to be upset about what you said. Because it's all true, isn't it?" His eye bore into Chip's, his voice like ice. "I'm a burden. That's all I am. That's all I'll ever be." Chip's breath hitched, the weight of his father's words crushing him. "Dad," he managed, his voice a whisper. "That's not what I-" But Plankton talked over him, his voice a sneer. "Oh, I see. You're going to play the innocent now, are you? Pretend like you didn't just say I'm a burden?" His antennae were a blur of movement, a silent testament to his rage. "How convenient." Chip felt his world crumbling, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I didn't-" "Don't you dare lie to me," Plankton's voice was like a knife, cutting through the air. Chip felt the room close in, his throat tight. "But Dad," he choked out, "I didn't mean-" "Oh, the poor little hero," Plankton said, his voice a mocking whisper. "So misunderstood." He rolled his eye dramatically. "It's always about you, isn't it?" The sarcasm was a knife twisting in Karen, but she knew it was the fear and pain speaking. Chip's eyes searched his father's, his own brimming with tears. "But Dad, I just want to help," he whispered, his voice shaking. "To make things right." Plankton's antennae stilled, his gaze cold. "You want to make things right?" he echoed, his voice laced with condescension. "How sweet! Why don't you go play the hero somewhere else!" Chip felt the sting of his father's sarcasm, his eyes welling up. "But I'm your son," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm supposed to-" "Oh, I know your role," Plankton said, his tone biting. "The golden child, always trying to fix things." His antennae quivered with disdain. "Dad," Chip protests, "I just want you to be happy." Plankton's eye narrowed, his face a mask of condescension. "How sweet," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you see, Chip, happiness is a concept lost to me. I'm just a broken toy now, remember?" He twirled the fidget toy in his hand, his thumb moving compulsively over the patterns. Chip's cheeks flushed, his eyes filling with tears. "But Dad," he whispered, "you're more than that." Plankton's antennae shot up, his face a contorted mask of disdain. "Oh, really?" he said, his voice thick with patronizing sarcasm. "Enlighten me, oh great and wise Chip. Tell me what I am." He leaned back in his chair, his antennae waving in the air as if inviting a lecture from his son. Chip took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're my dad," he said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "And you're... you're still you, even if you're a little different now." But Plankton's sarcasm was a shield he couldn't penetrate. "Ah, yes," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "The ever-elusive 'you're still you' argument. How original." His antennas twitched in disdain. "You don't get it," Chip's voice was desperate, his eyes pleading. "I don't care if you're different. I just want you to be happy." But Plankton's anger had become a shield, his words a barbed wire fence keeping his son at bay. "Oh, you don't care?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How magnanimous of you." His antennae twitched in a mock salute. "Well, let me tell you something, Chip. You can't just ignore the fact that your perfect little world has been shaken up, can you?" Chip felt the sting of his father's patronizing tone, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "But Dad," he said, his voice quivering. "I just want to-" "Oh, I know what you want," Plankton interrupted, his voice dripping with condescension. "You want the perfect little storybook ending where we all hold hands and skip off into the sunset." His antennae waved in the air dramatically. "But life doesn't work that way, Chip. Sometimes, bad things happen to good people, and there's no magical cure for it." His eye was cold, his antennae stilled. "So save your pity for someone wh-" Karen stepped in, her voice calm and firm. "Plankton, that's enough." She knew his words were a defense, a way to push away the pain. "Chip's just trying to help." Plankton's antennae stilled, his breath hitching. He looked at his wife, his anger momentarily fading. "I know," he murmured. "But I don't want his pity." Karen's gaze was filled with understanding. "It's not pity, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "It's love." Plankton's antennae twitched, his expression softening slightly. "But what good is love when I can't eve-" "Love is more than just touch," Karen interrupted, her voice gentle. "It's understanding, it's patience, it's being here for you." She took another step towards him, her hand outstretched. "It's about connecting in other ways." Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye flicking to her hand and then back to her face. He knew she was right, but the fear was a beast that ruled him. "But I don't know how to," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "How do I connect without... without the things I used to do?" Karen ached, her hand still extended. "We'll find a way," she assured him, her voice steady. "Together."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 13 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye focusing on the fidget toy in his hand. It was a silent testament to his internal turmoil, his mind racing with thoughts and fears. He knew Karen was right, that love didn't need to be physical, but the concept was still so alien to him, so difficult to grasp in his current state. "I'm trying," he murmured, his voice tight. "But it's just..." Karen's hand reached out to cover his, her touch gentle. "We all are," she said, her voice soothing. "And that's all we can do." Her gaze was filled with understanding, her eyes speaking volumes without a single word. "We're all just trying to navigate this new world, together." Chip watched his parents. He knew his father was struggling, but he also knew that love didn't have to be about touch. He took a step forward, his hand hovering.. Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye wide with fear. Karen quickly intervened, placing a hand on Chip's shoulder. "Not now," she whispered, her screen meeting her son's. "Let's give Dad some space." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's, the desire to connect with his father a palpable force. But Plankton's reaction was a stark reminder of the invisible barriers his injury had erected, the sensory minefield that surrounded him. The room was thick with silence, the only sound the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Karen's hand remained on Plankton's, her touch a gentle reminder of her presence. "It's ok," she murmured, her voice soft. "We're all learning together." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye meeting hers with a glimmer of hope. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "But it's so hard." The words were a confession, his vulnerability laid bare. Karen ached, her grip on his hand firm. "I know," she said, her voice understanding. "But we'll get through this. Together." Chip took a deep breath, his eyes still locked on his father's. He knew that his dad's reactions were not personal, that his brain was just trying to make sense of the world in a way that was different now. He forced a small smile, his voice steady. "We're here for you, Da-" But Plankton's antennae shot up, his body stiffening. "Don't," he murmured, his voice tight. "Just... don't." Karen stepped in, her voice calm and firm. "Plankton," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "Chip's just trying to tell you that he loves you." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye flicking to his son and back to Karen. The words hung in the air, a bridge between his old life and his new reality. He knew his son was trying, but the fear was a thick fog that clouded his mind, making it difficult to see the love beyond the barrier of his own emotions. Chip knew his father was in pain, and his words had only added to it. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I don't want you to feel li—" "Don't," Plankton interrupted, his antennae drooping. "I know what you're trying to do." His voice was a mix of fatigue and frustration. "But it's not that simple." Chip's eyes searched his father's, the depth of his pain mirrored in the tremble of his chin. "But Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I just want to make you happ..." Plankton's antennae shot up, his body stiffening like a board. "Don't," he murmured, his voice strained. "I don't want your pity." The words were a warning, a reminder that his love was not conditional on his ability to function in the traditional sense. Karen's gaze remained steadfast on her husband's face, seeing the raw pain beneath the anger. She knew his frustration was a shield, a way to protect himself from the overwhelming sensory assault that his brain was still trying to comprehend. "It's getting late," she said. "Let's all get to bed." Plankton's antennae drooped, his body slumping in defeat. He was tired, so tired of fighting, of trying to make sense of this new world of sensory overload and fear. He nodded, his voice a whisper. "Ok." The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the unspoken words that hung in the air like a thick fog. As they made their way to their separate rooms, the weight of the evening's interaction settled on Chip's shoulders. He knew his father's reaction wasn't personal, but it was hard not to take it that way. He lay in bed, his mind racing with thoughts of his dad, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their relationship was forever changed. The next morning, Chip awoke and went to his parents room. The door was open, the light filtered through the blinds. Plankton was sitting on the edge of the bed, his antennae drooped low. He looked up as Chip entered, his eye wary, as if expecting another onslaught of emotions he couldn't comprehend. Chip paused. He knew he had to tread carefully, his father's sensory issues a delicate dance they were all still learning. "Hey," he said, his voice soft. "How are you?" Plankton's antennae twitched, a sign of his internal struggle. He took a deep breath, his eye flicking to the fidget toy resting on the bedside table. "I'm... ok," he murmured, his voice tentative. "Just tired." Chip took a step closer, his movements deliberate and slow. "Do you want to talk?" he asked, his tone gentle. Plankton's antennae quivered, his expression a mix of fatigue and frustration. "Talking doesn't change anything," he said, his voice flat. "But if it makes you feel better..." His eye met Chip's, the unspoken challenge clear. Chip took a deep breath, his mind racing. He knew his dad was in pain, knew that he needed to be patient. He sat down on the bed, his movements careful. "It's not about making me feel better," he said. "It's about... understanding." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye focusing on Chip. For a moment, the anger and fear receded, replaced by a hint of curiosity. "Understanding what?" his voice was gruff, but there was a crack in the armor, a glimpse of the man he used to be. Chip took a deep breath, his heart racing. "Understanding... how to be there for you," he said, his voice earnest. "How to love you in a way that doesn't... hurt." He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I know it's different now, but I still want to be your son." Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye flicking to the floor. He was quiet for a long moment, his thoughts racing. He knew Chip meant well, but the concept of nonverbal love was so foreign to him. "I know you do," he murmured, his voice tight. "But it's not your job to fix me." "I don't want to fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I just want to be with you." He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over the fidget toy. "Can I?" Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye wide with fear. "No," he said, his voice sharp. "Don't touch it." He knew the toy was a lifeline, a way to ground himself in a world that felt like it was spinning out of control. But he also knew his son meant well. Chip's hand retreated, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just want to... connect." Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye closing briefly. He knew his son's intentions were pure, but his own fear was a cage he couldn't seem to escape. "I know," he said, his voice softer. "But it's not that simple." Chip felt his chest tighten, his desire to help his father a physical ache. "But there must be a way," he said. "We'll find it." Plankton's antennae quivered, a tiny spark of hope igniting in his eye. "Maybe," he murmured, his voice tentative. "But you have to be patient." He picked up the fidget toy, his thumb tracing the patterns. Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his father's. "I can do that," he said, his voice determined. "I'll do whatever it takes." Plankton's antennae twitched, a tiny glimmer of appreciation in his eye. "Thank you," he murmured. The words were a lifeline, a connection in the storm of his emotions. "But you have to understand," he continued, his voice strained. "Sometimes, I just need to be left alone." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his father's. "I get it," he said. "But I'll always be here when you're ready."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 14 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Karen's voice was gentle but firm. "Plankton," she said. "Chip's right. We'll find a way to connect that works for all of us. We just have to keep trying. Why don't we all go drive to the new sensory park they just opened?" It was a place designed for those with sensory processing disorders, with areas that catered to different sensory needs. "It's a bit of a drive across town, but do you wanna try going?" They both nodded. They parked the car. "Let's go slow, ok?" Plankton nodded. They approached the sensory garden, a place designed to be calming. The scent of lavender was thick in the air, and the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet was a comforting contrast to the harshness of the city. As they walked through the gates, Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye scanning the area. The sensory park was a symphony of soft colors and soothing sounds, designed to minimize the overstimulation that so often triggered his seizures. "This is nice," he murmured. Chip watched his father, his heart in his throat. He knew how much this meant to him, how much Plankton was struggling. "It is," he said, his voice matching his dad's quiet tone. He took a deep breath, his sensors tuned to his father's every movement. "Do you want to go on the swings?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye flicking to the swing. He nodded slowly. Chip led the way, his movements cautious. He knew his dad needed space, needed to feel safe. They approached the swing set, a simple metal frame with plastic seats. Plankton closed his eye, the rhythm familiar and comforting as he swings. Chip took the swing next to Plankton, his movements tentative. He knew his father's fear of touch was a battleground, and he didn't want to cross any lines. The squeak of the chains and the gentle breeze through the leaves of the nearby trees were the only sounds that accompanied them as they swung back and forth, side by side. Chip watched his father. He wanted so badly to reach out, to hold Plankton's hand, but he knew the boundaries. Instead, he focused on matching his swing to Plankton's, their motion in sync. He hoped the rhythm would be a comfort to his dad, a small piece of the connection they used to share. As they swung, the tension slowly began to ease from Plankton's antennae. The back-and-forth movement was soothing, a gentle rocking. After a while, they got off the swings. Plankton's antennae were still twitching with the residual energy of the movement, his body craving the sensory input that had become so rare. Chip noticed and searched the park for a suitable activity. His eyes lit upon the sandbox. "How about playing in the sand?" he suggested, his voice hopeful. Plankton's antennae quivered with interest, his eye lighting up slightly. He had always enjoyed the feel of sand between his... well, the equivalent of fingers. Karen smiled, seeing the potential for a positive interaction. They approached the sandbox, the fine grains glinting in the sunlight. Chip took a seat on the wooden bench beside it, watching as Plankton tentatively placed his hand into the cool sand. His antennae quivered with pleasure at the sensation, his body relaxing slightly. Chip followed suit, his movements deliberately slow and cautious, mirroring his father's. He knew that sudden movements or touch could send Plankton spiraling, so he remained still, his eyes on the sand. Together, they began to sculpt the sand, their hands moving in harmony without any need for words. The gentle scrape of the grains against their hands was a soothing balm, a silent conversation that transcended the barriers of language and injury. Plankton's fears and anger from the night before seemed to melt away with each mound of sand that took shape. Chip watched his father, his heart swelling with hope. He had found a way to connect, a sensory experience that didn't overwhelm Plankton. As they played, he noticed his father's breathing slow, his antennae relaxing slightly. It was a small victory, but it felt like a huge step in the right direction. The sun grew higher in the sky, casting warm rays down on the sandbox. Karen sat beside them, her eyes filled with gratitude for this moment of peace. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he focused on the sand, his movements precise. Chip watched, mimicking his father's careful touch. The sand was a bridge between them, a shared experience that didn't require words. They built sandcastles together, their hands working in harmony despite the unspoken fear that hung in the air. Chip felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he saw Plankton's eye light up with each new creation. The sand was a therapy in itself, a gentle reminder that love didn't need to be loud or physical to be felt. They built a sandcastle together, their silent companionship a balm to the wounds of the previous night. After a while, they finished. "Want to try something else?" Chip asked, his voice soft. Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye flicking to the nearby beach ball. "Maybe a game of catch?" Plankton suggested, his voice tentative. Chip nods. He knew his dad's fear of the unexpected, so he rolled it gently to him. Plankton caught the ball. He tossed it back to Chip, his eye watching the arc of its flight with a hint of excitement. Chip's throw was careful, underarm, keeping it within Plankton's visual comfort zone. He knew his dad's limits, his fear of fast movements. Plankton's antennae twitched as he caught the ball again. The sensation of the cool, smooth plastic was a comfort in his hands. He threw it back to Chip, his movements calculated, his mind focused on the game. It was a simple activity, but it was one where he felt in control. Chip watched his father, his movements mirrored. He knew his dad's fear of the unexpected, so he threw the ball with a gentle underhand toss, keeping it slow and predictable. Plankton smiled slightly, his eye tracking the ball's trajectory. Later, Karen told them it's time to go, to start the drive back home. She got in the driver's seat as Plankton and Chip sat in the back together. Chip's eyes were on his dad, his heart racing with excitement. The car's movement was a gentle rocking, akin to the swing. Plankton watched the world pass by. The sensation of the car's vibrations was soothing. Karen glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes searching for any sign of distress. But Plankton was calm, his antennae still. The drive was a quiet reprieve, a chance for them to process the newness of their relationship. Chip knew that his dad's sensory issues made the world a minefield, but in this moment, the steady hum of the car was a comfort. As Karen drove, Plankton's eyelid began to droop, his antennae slowing. The gentle vibration of the car and the predictable rhythm of the road was a balm. He leaned back, his head resting against the seat, his hand clutching the fidget toy. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his eye half-closed, head dropping. Chip felt his heart swell as Plankton's head slowly dropped onto his shoulder. And as Plankton starts to snore gently, Chip realized his dad had fallen asleep, his head resting heavily on his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, fearing that any sudden movement might wake his father, might disrupt the fragile peace they had found. But Plankton's snores grew deeper, the tension leaving his body. Karen glanced in the rearview mirror. "It's ok," she murmured. "You're doing a good job." Chip felt his muscles relax slightly, the weight of his father's head a comfort. He knew that this moment was precious, a sign that his efforts were not in vain. He leaned into the warmth of his dad's body, his hand finding its way to the fidget toy. His thumb traced the patterns, mimicking the rhythm that Plankton had found soothing. Chip then decides to take a selfie. He holds up his phone after looking at his dad, who started to drool at the corner of his open mouth. He chuckles quietly, snapping the photo as Plankton remains asleep. Chip posts the picture with adding this caption: "Went to the park with my dad @ Sheldon Plankton today 💙👨‍👦💨 " Plankton still snored softly against Chip's shoulder. Chip noticed more drool escaping the corner of his mouth and felt a surge of affection mixed with concern. "Mom, he's drooling," he whispered to Karen, his voice barely audible over the car's hum. Karen chuckled, her eyes meeting Chip's in the mirror. "It's ok," she said softly. "It's a sign of his tiredness. Let him sleep."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 9 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Chip's gaze went to his dad, his confusion morphing into concern. "What's wrong?" Plankton's eye darted to Chip. "Wh-what do you mean?" he stuttered, his defensiveness a clear sign of his internal turmoil. "Why do you think anything's wrong?" He says to Chip. Chip looked at him, his eyes filled with innocence. "You just...you're acting di-" "I'm not!" Plankton snapped, his voice echoing in the quiet room. He felt the weight of his fidget toy in his hand. "I'm fine!" he insisted, his antennae twitching with agitation. Chip took a step back, his eyes wide with surprise. "Dad?" he asked, his voice trembling. Karen's broke at the sight of her son's confusion. "It's ok," she tried to say, but Plankton's anger was palpable. "I'm not acting any way!" Plankton's voice grew louder, his eye darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "Don't patronize me!" His antennae shook with the intensity of his emotions, and Karen could see the fear and frustration bubbling just beneath the surface. Chip took another step back, his eyes wide with shock. "But you always give me hugs," he said, his voice small. "What happened?" Plankton's face contorted with frustration. "I don't know," he said, his voice rising. "I just can't... I can't handle it right now, ok?" He threw the fidget toy across the room, the plastic smacking against the wall. "Leave me alone!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his voice shaking. "But, Dad, I missed yo-" "I said leave me alone!" Plankton's voice boomed, the stress of the past week exploding out of him. His body was a coiled spring, ready to snap. Karen's chest ached as she watched the scene unfold, torn between her love for Plankton and her need to comfort their son. "It's okay," she murmured, stepping towards them. "Let's all just take a moment." Chip's screen searched hers, his expression a mix of hurt and confusion. "But, Dad, I just-" "I said leave me alone!" Plankton's voice was a thunderclap, cutting off Chip's words. His body was rigid, his antennae quivering with agitation. Karen felt his pain, knew his fear of being exposed, of being seen as lesser than before. She took a step towards him, her hand outstretched. "Plankton, please," she whispered. But Chip didn't get it. "Dad?" Chip's voice was trembling, his eyes brimming with tears. "What's happening?" He looked so lost, so small in that moment. Plankton's chest heaved with heavy breaths, his eye avoiding Chip's gaze. "It's...it's nothing," Plankton stuttered, trying to control his voice. He knew his behavior was erratic, but the fear of being discovered was too great. Chip looked at him, his expression a blend of confusion and hurt. "But you're not fine," he said, his voice shaking. "You're acting..." Plankton's anger grew, his eye flashing. "I'm fine!" he insisted, his voice a whisper-shout. "Don't tell me what I'm feeling!" He couldn't bear the thought of his son seeing him as broken, as someone to pity. Chip's lip trembled, his eyes filling with tears. "But you're not acting like yourself," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. Karen's ached for both of them. Plankton's face grew tight, his body coiled with tension. "What do you know?" he snapped. "You're just a ki—" "What do you mean I don't know?" Chip's voice grew louder. "I live with you, I know you better than anyone else! And you're just making excuses for acting like this!" His screen flushed with emotion, and his fists were clenched tightly at his sides. "So don't call me a kid when you're the one throwing a fit like one!" Plankton's eye widened, his anger a stark contrast to the calmness he'd been trying to maintain. "How dare you!" he snapped. "Yo--" Chip's voice grew stronger, cutting through Plankton's words. "How dare I? You're the one shouting!" Chip's voice trembled, his own frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. "I don't know what's happening to you, but me and Mom are both pretty much sick of you and your precious little temper tantrums! So you can either decide to tell us what's going on or keep acting like this," Chip's voice broke, as Plankton sat down with ringing in his ears, "but I'm not gonna keep pretending like we care about yo-" But before Chip could finish his sentence, Plankton's body stiffened, his eye glazed over. "Plankton?" Karen asked. But there was no response. Chip felt fear. "Dad?" he whispered, reaching out tentatively. Karen recognized the signs of Plankton's overwhelm. "Chip, step back," she said, her voice calm yet firm. As Plankton's body stiffened, Chip's eyes were wide with terror, his hand hovering in the air, unsure of how to help. "It's ok," Karen whispered, her voice a steady beacon in the storm of Plankton's seizure. "Just wa- Chip, no, it's ok," Karen says, her voice soothing as she tries to keep the situation calm. She knew from the other day's experience that Plankton might not remember this, that he was somewhere else in his mind, disconnected from the world around him. Karen remained composed, ready to catch him if he fell. Chip watched, his own fear mirroring the scene before him. "D-dad?" he stuttered, his voice shaking. Chip's eyes were on his father, his young mind trying to understand. Plankton's body remained rigid, his eye vacant. The room was a tableau of tension, the silence deafening. Karen knew this moment all too well now, the moment when Plankton slipped into dizzy/lightheaded daze, leaving them behind. She took a deep breath, willing her nerves to calm, her hand reaching for Chip's to guide him away from his dad. Chip's eyes were glued to his father, a silent tear tracking down his screen. Karen wrapped her arm around him, pulling him gently to the side. "It's ok," she murmured, her voice a balm. "Dad's just... he's just having a moment." They watched as Plankton's body went slack, his hand dropping the fidget toy. Chip's gaze followed it as it bounced off the floor, the plastic clattering against the wood. "What's happening?" he asked, his voice a whisper. "It's ok," Karen said, squeezing Chip's hand tightly. "Dad's having a moment." She guided Chip to the couch. "Just wait here." With gentle but firm steps, Karen approached Plankton, his body still frozen in the grip of the seizure. She knew not to move him, not to shake him out of it. Instead, she talked to him in a calm, soothing voice, keeping the room's energy low. "You're safe," she murmured. "We're right here." But Chip is to curious. Chip's gaze remained fixed on Plankton, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. "Is he ok?" he whispered, his voice trembling. Karen's went out to him, knowing this was the first time he'd seen his father like this. "It's called an absence seizure," Karen explained, sitting beside Chip. "It's like his brain takes a little break." Her voice was calm, trying to reassure her son. "It's part of his, h-his life now." Chip stared at his dad, his chest tight with fear. "Is he gonna be ok?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. Karen nodded, her eyes never leaving Plankton. "Yes," she said. "But it's important we stay calm." "Mom what's..." "It's because of an accident," she said, her voice gentle. Chip's eyes widened with horror. "An accident? What happened?" he asked, his voice a whisper. Karen took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she'd been dreading. "Dad had a fall," she said, her gaze firmly on Plankton. "It hurt his brain." Chip's gaze went back to his father, his expression a mix of shock and sadness. "Will he get better?" Karen's eyes filled with tears as she looked at her son, his innocence a stark contrast to the harsh reality they faced. "It's... different," she said, swiping at her screen. "It's not like a bruise that will heal. But we can help him, we can learn to live with it." Chip nodded, his grip on her hand tightening. "How?" he asked, his voice small. "So is he..." "He's still your dad," Karen whispered, her eyes never leaving Plankton's still form. "But now, we just have to love him a little differently. I'll let him tell you more when he's ready." Chip's screen searched hers, his thoughts racing. "Ok," he managed, his voice thick with uncertainty. Plankton's seizure ended nearly abruptly as it had begun. He blinked, his gaze returning to the room gradually. His hand searched for the fidget toy, his hand reaching out instinctively. Karen picked it up from the floor, handing it to him. "You're ok," she said, her voice soothing.

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 10 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Plankton took a deep breath, his antennae drooping. "What happened?" he asked, his voice hoarse as he looks around. Chip stared at his father, his eyes brimming with tears. "You scared me," he whispered. "Mom said you had a-" But Plankton cut him off, his voice cold. "I wasn't talking to you," he said, his gaze sliding away from Chip's. "I was asking your mother." The hurt in Chip's eyes was like a knife to Karen, but she knew better than to push. Chip looked at her, his eyes desperate for answers. "But Mom, what's going on?" he whispered. Karen took a deep breath. "Your dad's been going through some changes," she began, her voice trembling slightly. "He's not the same as before, and we're still trying to figure it all out. You can ask us questions, but it's your dad's story to tell." Chip's curiosity was piqued, his need for answers overriding his fear. "What do you mean by changes?" he asked, his voice shaky. "Are you sick? What's wrong, Da-" "I'm fine," Plankton said, his voice sharp. "Just leave it, ok?" His tone was final, his gaze avoiding his son's. He could feel the weight of his own emotions, the fear of being seen as weak, as different. The anger was a shield, a way to push Chip away before the hurt could set in. But Chip has more questions. Chip's eyes searched Plankton's, his voice laced with determination. "But Dad, you're not fine," he said, his voice shaking with emotion. "You're acting all weird and scary, and you're not talking to me or playing games like we-" "I said I'm fine!" Plankton's voice was a harsh bark, his antennae snapping with agitation. The room felt suddenly too small, his anger a palpable force that made Karen flinch. "I don't need you poking around in my business!" His eye narrowed, his words cutting like a knife. "What don't you get?" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his lower lip quivering. "But I'm your son," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his own heart breaking. "You're supposed t---" But Plankton was already retreating, his back to them. "I don't need this," he murmured, still sitting. "I don't need any of this." "But Dad, I just want to help," he said, his voice shaky. "I don't understand why you're like this," he adds, reaching out to touch his dad's shoulder. But Plankton flinched away, his antennae quivering with irritation. "Don't touch me," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. But Chip remains undeterred. "I don't get it," Chip says, reaching out again to Plankton's back. "What happe—" But Plankton's voice was like ice. "Don't," he warned, his body stiffening. "Just, don't." His antennae twitched erratically, a silent testament to his internal storm. Chip's hand hovered, now setting it on Plankton's arm... The sudden contact sent a shiver down Plankton's spine, his body jolting as if electrified. "I said don't!" he snarled, his voice a whip crack in the silent room. He yanked his arm away, his eye wild. "Can't yo-" But Chip's hand remained firm, his grip now on Plankton's wrist, refusing to let go. "Dad, ple–" "Get OFF!" Plankton's voice was a snarl, his body writhing away from the touch. Chip felt like he was holding onto a wild animal, desperate to keep it from running away. "I don't understand," he choked out, tears streaming down his screen as he only held on tighter. "Dad, w---" But Plankton's anger boiled over. With a roar, he swung his arm back, slapping Chip's hand away. Chip's arm stung, his eyes wide with shock. "I said DON'T TOUCH ME!" Plankton's voice echoed through the room. Karen watched both her son and her husband. She knew this was hard for Chip, knew he was just trying to connect, to understand. But Plankton's autistic brain was like a delicate instrument, easily overwhelmed by the cacophony of emotions and sensations. She stepped forward, placing a hand on Chip's shoulder. "It's ok," she said, her voice soft. "Dad just needs his space right now." Chip looked up at her, his eyes swimming with tears. "But why?" he choked out. "Why is he-" "Chip, please," Karen said, her voice shaking with emotion. "We have to respect his boundaries." Her gaze was pleading, but Chip's determination didn't waver. "But he's my dad," he said, his voice strong despite the tremor. Plankton's body was a whirlwind of emotions, his eye flicking back and forth between his wife and son. He felt torn, his desire to push Chip away warring with his love for him. Chip's eyes searched Plankton's, his voice shaky but firm. "Dad, you can't just ignore me," he said. But Plankton's too angry to answer. Karen watched the scene unfold. Plankton's withdrawal was palpable, his body language screaming 'leave me alone'. He curled up into the armchair, his antennae pressed against his head. The room felt suffocating with his emotional walls. "Chip, let's go to your room," she whispered, her voice a gentle guide. With one last look at his father, Chip nodded, his eyes red and puffy. Plankton didn't move, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he curled further into his chair. The anger was a wave that had crashed over him, leaving him drained and ashamed. He didn't mean to hurt Chip, but the touch had been too much. He felt his world spinning, his senses on high alert, his thoughts a jumble of fear and frustration. Karen led Chip to his room, her hand firm but gentle on his shoulder. She knew he was hurt, knew he had so many questions. Once inside, she sat beside him on the bed, her eyes brimming with tears she fought to hold back. "Chip," she began, her voice soft. "You know how people are different, right?" Chip nodded, his eyes still wet from crying. "Yeah," he whispered. "Like, some people like chocolate, and some like vanilla." "Exactly," Karen said, taking a deep breath. "Well, sometimes, those differences aren't just about what we like or don't like." She paused, searching for the right words. "Sometimes, things happen to our brains that make it work differently. Like when you fall and get a bruise, your body needs time to heal. But brain bruises, well, injuries, can't be seen, and they can change how we think, feel, and even how we react to the world." Chip's eyes searched hers, his mind racing. "So, Dad's brain got bruised?" Karen shrugs, her voice soft. "No. It's called acquired autism. It's like a switch was flipped in his brain, changing the way he sees and feels things." She took a deep breath. "It's not his fault, and it doesn't make him less of a person, but it does make him see the world in a way that's new and sometimes scary for all of us." Chip looked down at his hands, his thoughts racing. "So he's not just mad at me?" "No, sweetie," Karen said, wiping a tear from her own screen. "It's not about you. It's about his brain learning how to process things differently now." Chip's brow furrowed, trying to make sense of it all. "But why does he get so upset when I just want to hug him?" Karen sighed. "Sometimes, when our brain changes like this, it's like suddenly the lights are too bright, or sounds are too loud, or touch feels like a hundred needles," she said, her voice gentle. "It's not that he doesn't want to hug you, it's just that his brain can't handle it the way it used to." "But I'm not hugging his brain," Chip asks. "No," Karen says, her voice soothing. "You're hugging him, his body. But it's his brain that interprets the hug. And right now, his brain is like a radio tuned to the wrong station. It's hearing things differently, feeling things differently." She pauses, looking for a way to make it more real for him. "Imagine if you were playing a video game and suddenly the controls changed. You'd get frustrated, right?" Chip nods. "That's what it's like for Dad. Everything he knew, everything he could do, it's like the cheat codes don't work anymore. And when you try to hug him, it's like someone turned the volume up really loud without warning." She takes a deep breath. "It's not that he doesn't love you, or that he doesn't want to play games or tell stories. It's just that his brain needs more time to understand the world again." Chip nods slowly, his eyes still full of unshed tears. "So, what do we do?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "We help him," Karen says, wiping at her own tears. "We learn about his new 'station', and we help him adjust to it." She smiles sadly. "It's like we're explorers, discovering a new world together."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 11 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Chip sniffles. "But what if he gets mad at me again?" he whispers. "He might," Karen admits. "But it's important to remember it's not about you, or what you do wrong." She pauses, her thumb tracing gentle circles on his back. "It's about his brain trying to understand a world that's changed for him." "But how do I know what's too much?" Chip asks, his voice small. "How can I tell what will make him upset?" Karen's eyes searched his. "It's like learning a new dance," she explained. "At first, you'll step on each other's toes, but with time and patience, you'll find the right rhythm." She took a deep breath. "We'll figure it out together. You can ask him, or me, and we'll learn his cues. Like when he needs space, or when he's ok with a gentle touch." Chip nodded, his eyes still brimming with tears. "Ok," he said, his voice shaky. "But I want to hug him again." Karen clenched at his words. "I know," she said. "And when the time is right, you may. But for now, let's find other ways to show him love, without overwhelming his sensitive brain." She stood up, her hand reaching for the doorknob. "Why don't we go back to the living room and check on him?" They walked back to the living room, where Plankton was still sitting in the armchair, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked up as they entered, his eye filled with a mix of shame and defensiveness. Karen could see the turmoil playing across his features, the battle between his love for Chip and his fear of rejection. "Dad?" Chip's voice was tentative, his hand outstretched. "Could I... could we...?" Plankton's eye flickered to his son's outstretched hand, his stomach clenching at the thought of contact. He knew he should want this, should crave the comfort of his son's embrace. But his brain was a cacophony of fear and confusion, his skin a livewire of sensitivity. He swallowed hard, the word sticking in his throat like a bone. "No," he forced out, his voice tight. Chip's hand fell to his side, his shoulders slumping. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice desolate. "I just wan—" "NO!" Plankton's voice was a roar, his antennae quivering with the force of his rejection. The look of hurt on Chip's screen was like a dagger to his heart, but he couldn't stop the words from coming. "I don't want you right now," he spat, the anger a shield for his fear. "I don't like anyone touching me!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his chin trembling. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice barely above the sound of his own breath. "I just want to make you feel better." Plankton's heart twisted, but his fear was too great. "I said NO!" he bellowed, his body shaking with the force of his words. Chip's lower lip quivered as he took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. He had never seen his father this angry, this scared. "But I'm your son," he managed, his voice tiny. "I won't hurt yo-" "I don't care!" Plankton's voice was a snarl. "I just want to be left alone!" His antennae thrashed wildly, a silent testament to his inner chaos. "I don't need you or your stupid games!" The words were like a slap, leaving Chip's face burning. Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his voice shaky. "But you liked playing with me befo—" "I SAID NO!" Plankton's voice was a thunderclap, his eye flashing with a rage that wasn't entirely his own. "I don't want your games, your laughter, your touch!" The words hung in the air. Chip felt his chest tighten, his breath hitch in his throat. He looked at his mother, his screen pleading for help. Karen stepped forward, her heart breaking with each word. "Chip, let's give Dad some space," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew his intentions were pure, but his father's brain was a minefield right now, and any misstep could trigger another seizure. But Chip was stubborn, his desire to connect with his dad overriding his fear. "But Mom, he's just mad," he protested. "He co-" "Chip," Karen was firm, but her eyes were filled with sorrow. "It's more than that." She took his hand. "We have to be patient, ok?" They sat on the couch, the distance between them and Plankton palpable. Chip's thoughts raced, trying to understand. Plankton sat in the armchair, his antennae still, his gaze anywhere but on his son. So Chip decided to get one of the fidget toys. "Here," he said, holding it out. "It's ok," he whispered. "It's just a toy." Plankton's eye flickered to the fidget toy, his breathing shallow. He knew he should be grateful, should be happy that his son was trying. But the anger was like a storm, and he couldn't find the calm within. "Get that hand away from me," he snarled, his voice low and menacing. Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his hand dropping to his side. "But Dad," he choked out, his throat tight with unshed tears. "I'm just trying to-" But Plankton's anger was a tidal wave that couldn't be stopped. "You don't get it!" he shouted, his antennae quivering. "You can't just barge in here and expect things to be the same!" He threw one of the toys across the room, the plastic smacking against the wall. "You don't get to decide how I feel!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his heart racing. "But Dad, I just want to help," he whispered. "I don't understand." He retrieved the toy. Plankton's eye darted to the fidget toy, his antennae quivering. "Don't," he murmured, his voice sharp. "I don't want it." The word was like a slap to Chip, his hand dropping to his side. He looked at his mother, his eyes pleading for guidance. "Let me," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. She approached Plankton slowly, her movements deliberate. "Here," she said, her voice soothing. "This might help calm you down." Plankton's eye darted to the fidget toy, his antennae twitching. For a moment, he was torn between anger and desire, his hand reaching out to grab it before his brain could change its mind. His grip was firm, his breath hitching as his thumb traced the smooth patterns. Chip watched, his heart racing. "Is it ok now?" he asked, his voice tentative. "Can I sit with you?" Plankton's antennae stilled, his breaths coming in measured paces as he worked the fidget toy. He didn't look up, his eye still on the floor. "Dad?" Chip's voice was tentative, his question hanging in the air like a delicate thread. "Can we talk now?" Plankton's eye remained fixed on the fidget toy, his thumb still tracing the patterns compulsively. His jaw was tight, his antennae slightly less erratic. "What's to talk about," he murmured, his voice still thick with the anger that hadn't completely dissipated. Chip took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know," he said, his voice honest. "I just want to kno—" "You want to know what?" Plankton's voice was cold, his eye flicking up to meet Chip's. "What happened to me? What's wrong with me?" The words were a challenge, a sharp-edged question that hung in the air. Chip's gaze dropped to the carpet, his throat tight. "I just want to understand," he whispered. "Why you're so mentally di-" He didn't get to finish the sentence. Plankton's antennae snapped up, his voice a whip. "Don't," he said, the word sharp as a knife. "Don't say another word." Chip felt his stomach churn, his palms sweaty. "Dad, I didn't mean to upset you," Chip tried again, his voice shaking. "I just know at my school, how my classmates would whispered to me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't wan-" "I said don't!" Plankton's voice was a whip. His antennae were still, his body coiled tightly in the chair. "Don't you dare make me into some kind of charity case!" His eye blazed with a fierce protectiveness that took even Karen by surprise. Chip flinched, his own eyes filling with tears. "But Dad," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You weren't a burden bef-" "ENOUGH!" The room was silent, save for the sound of Plankton's rapid breathing. His antennae twitched as he clutched the fidget toy like a lifeline. "I NEVER want to be a burden!" he shouted, his voice echoing around the room. The anger was a storm raging within him, his fear of being seen as weak or less than overwhelming. Karen stepped forward, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and determination. "Chip," she whispered. "Let's give him some space." But Chip's resolve was unshakable, his eyes locked on his father. "But what if 'the burden' never gets..." Plankton's antennae shot up. "What did you call me?" His voice was a hiss, his body taut with tension. Chip took a step back, his throat tight. "I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered. "It's just what they say at school." But Plankton was lost in a whirlwind of emotion. "Get out!" he roared, his antennae flailing. "Get out of my face!" Chip's eyes filled with tears as he took a step back, the rejection a heavy weight on his shoulders. He didn't understand why his father was so angry with him, so he turned to his mother, his voice shaking. "Mom, I didn't mean to-" But Karen knew Plankton's anger was a defense mechanism, a way for his brain to cope with the fear and confusion of his new reality. She stepped closer to him, her voice soft and calm. "It's ok, Plankton," she soothed. "We're here for you. Chip didn't mea-" "DON'T!" Plankton's voice was a bark, his antennae snapping in agitation. "Don't you dare defend him." His eye was wild, his body trembling. Karen's eyes never left his, her voice a gentle stream of reassurance. "You're not a burden, Plankton," she said, her words a soft whisper. "We love you, just as you are." She took another step, closing the gap between them. "We're in this together."