KAREN AND THE AUTISTIC JOURNEY vii (Autistic author) Sponge Bob's mind is racing, his heart thumping in his chest. He had never seen Plankton like this, and the sudden change was unnerving. "What happened to make you so..." he asks, his voice laced with curiosity. Plankton's smile broadens, his hands continuing their flapping dance. "Good book," he repeats. "Best friend." He pats the bed again, his gesture urging Sponge Bob to sit closer. Sponge Bob does, his gaze still locked on Plankton's. "But what happened?" he presses, his voice filled with concern. "You've never been this... this... affectionate before." Plankton's hands stop their flapping, his antennas drooping slightly. "Just happy." Sponge Bob's eyes search his friend's, his concern growing with each repetition. "But Plankton, what's really going on?" he asks, his voice filled with urgency. "You've never talked like this before." Plankton's smile wavers, his hand reaching for the book. "Read," he says, his voice a monotone. "Happy book." Sponge Bob's eyes dart between Plankton's and the complex text before him. "But Plankton, I don't know what this means." Plankton's smile fades, his hands stilled. He looks at Sponge Bob with an unblinking stare, his mind racing. "Friend," he says, his voice flat. "Best friend." His gaze drops to the book, then back to Sponge Bob's face. "Read," he instructs, his tone firm. Sponge Bob's eyes widen, the weight of Plankton's stare heavy on his shoulders. He opens the book to a random page. "Ok," he says, his voice shaking slightly. "I'll try." He starts from the top, his pronunciation awkward and stilted. "Quantum Mechanics," he reads, his eyes squinting at the text. Sponge Bob's voice falters, the complexity of the words tripping his tongue. "Plankton, I don't understand any of this," he says, his voice filled with frustration. Plankton's eye widen, his smile fading. "Friend," he repeats, his voice strained. "Best friend." He grabs the book from Sponge Bob's hands, his movements suddenly frantic. "Read," he says, his voice a mix of desperation and joy. "Good book." Sponge Bob's heart races as he watches his friend's erratic behavior. He knows something is seriously off, but he's not sure what. "Plankton What's going on with you?" Plankton's smile flickers back, his hands stilling. He looks at Sponge Bob, his gaze intense. "Read," he repeats. "Best friend read." Sponge Bob nods, his throat tight. He tries again, his voice more confident this time. "Quantum Mechanics," he repeats. Plankton's smile brightens, his hands resuming their flutter. "Good," he says, his voice a monotone cheer. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's heart aches with concern, but he continues to read, hoping to find some comfort in the words for his friend. "Quantum Entanglement," he murmurs, his eyes scanning the page for any sign of understanding. Plankton's flapping grows more intense, his body rocking back and forth with excitement. Sponge Bob's eyes widen as he notices Plankton's erratic behavior, but he keeps reading, his voice steady and calm. "The universe," he says, his eyes skimming the page, "is a strange and wondrous place." Plankton's eye light up, his hands flapping rapidly. "Wondrous place," he echoes, his voice mirroring Sponge Bob's. "Best friend." Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his spongy cheeks reddening. "You're saying the same thing I just said," he points out, his voice filled with confusion. Plankton nods vigorously, his hands fluttering in the air. "You're saying same thing," he says, his voice a cheerful mimic of Sponge Bob's. "Wondrous place. Saying the same thing just said.." "Plankton," SpongeBob says, his voice urgent. "What's going on with you?" Plankton's smile is wide, but his gaze is distant, as if he's somewhere else entirely. "You're saying the same thing," he echoes again, his hands flapping in a rhythmic pattern that matches his words. Sponge Bob's eyes widen. "Plankton," he says, his voice strained. "You're just repeating me." He pauses, trying to gauge his friend's reaction. Plankton nods, his smile still in place. "Yes," he says, his voice a copy of Sponge Bob's. "You're repeating." His hands flap with excitement. Sponge Bob's concern grows, his eyes searching Plankton's for any sign of distress. "But why, Plankton?" he asks, his voice soft with worry. Plankton's smile falters, his hands stopping mid-flap. "But why?" he repeats, his voice a perfect echo of Sponge Bob's. "You're copying me," he says. "Why are you copying everything I say?" Plankton's eye refocus on Sponge Bob's face, his smile returning. "You're copying me why are you copying everything I say." Plankton echoed. Sponge Bob's trying to find a reason behind the behavior. "I'm asking you what's going on!" Plankton nods, his antennae waving slightly. "SpongeBob asking me what's going on," he mimics. Sponge Bob's eyes widen, his heart racing. "Plankton," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "This isn't funny. What's really happening?" "This isn't funny," he echoes Sponge Bob's tone. "What's happening?" Sponge Bob's heart sinks. "Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. "What's wrong with you?" Plankton's eye locked on Sponge Bob's. "Wrong with Plankton," he echoes. "What's wrong?" Sponge Bob's voice trembles as he speaks. "You're not acting like yourself," he says, his heart pounding. "You're just repeating everything I say." "You're repeating everything I say," he says, his voice a mirror. "Plankton," he says, his voice shaking. "Please, tell me what's going on." "Please tell me what's going on," he repeats, his voice a perfect match to Sponge Bob's. "You tell me." Sponge Bob's eyes are filled with a mix of fear and desperation. "But, Plankton," he says, his voice trembling. "You're just repeating everything I say." He takes a deep breath, his mind racing to understand his friend's sudden change. Plankton's smile is unwavering, his hands still fluttering. "You're just repeating everything," he echoes. "I say." His voice is calm, his movements methodical. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with tears, his heart breaking at the sight of his friend. "Please, Plankton," he begs, his voice cracking with anger. But Plankton's response is only more of the same, his words a perfect echo of Sponge Bob's plea. "Please, Plankton," he repeats, his voice a mirror of pain. "Please.." "This isn't right," he says, his voice filled with frustration. "You're not acting normal." Plankton's smile falters for a moment, his hands stilling. "Not normal," he repeats, his voice a hollow echo. "You not acting right." Sponge Bob's frustration boils over. "I'm not the one who's changed!" he exclaims, his voice loud. "You're the one who's been acting weird and repeating everything I say!" "You're the one who's changed," he echoes, his voice still calm. "Weird. Repeating." Sponge Bob's anger flares, his spongy fists clenching. "No, Plankton!" he says, his voice rising. "You're the one who's different! You're not the same as before!" Plankton's smile fades, his hands coming to a halt. His gaze meets Sponge Bob's with a flicker of understanding. "Different," he says, his voice a flat echo. "Not same." Sponge Bob's anger turns to desperation. "What happened to you?" he asks, his voice cracking. "Why are you doing this?" Plankton's gaze is unyielding, his smile a forced imitation of happiness. "You doing this," he repeats, his voice a monotone. Sponge Bob's eyes fill with anger. "What are you talking about?" he demands, his hands clenching into fists. "I haven't done anything!" Plankton's smile flickers, his gaze dropping to his book. "You haven't done anything," he echoes, his voice a mirror of Sponge Bob's anger. "I have." Sponge Bob's eyes narrow, his confusion turning to anger. "What are you saying?" he asks, his voice sharp. Plankton's hands resuming their flapping. "I have book," he says, his voice calmer. "Good book. Happy book." Sponge Bob's anger dissipates, his confusion deepening. "But Plankton," he says, his voice gentle. "What's the book got to do with anything?" "Book," he repeats, his voice a monotone chant. "Book, book." Sponge Bob's confusion turns to anger, his eyes narrowing. "What is it with this book?" he demands, his voice tight. "What's so special about it?" Plankton's smile flickers, his hands pausing in their flapping. "You and book," he says, his voice a monotone whisper. "Makes Plankton happy." SpongeBob grabs Plankton's wrists to stop the flapping, making Plankton finally stop his repetitive chanting. "What's gotten into you?" Sponge Bob asks, his voice shaking with anger and concern. "Are you just messing with me?" Plankton's smile fades, his antennas drooping. "No mess," he says, his voice a sad echo. He tries to pull his hands free, but Sponge Bob's grip tightens. Sponge Bob's eyes bore into his friend's, searching for anything that might explain this strange behavior. "Then what is it, Plankton?" he asks, his voice a mix of anger and fear. "What's going on?" Plankton's gaze flickers with a hint of sadness. "Accident," he whispers, his voice a hollow echo, his body tense.

𝖳𝖮 𝖢𝖧𝖠𝖭𝖦𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖫𝖣 pt. 16 Sequel to Autism And All by NeuroFabulous https://emojicombos.com/autism-and-all Read the Autism And All one first! Krabs watches, his claws opening and closing in frustration. He wants to help, but he doesn't know how to enter Plankton's inner sanctum. He feels like an intruder, a rudimentary creature in a realm of complex thought patterns. "Please, Plankton," he begs. "Tell me what you need." He leans closer to Plankton. Plankton's eye closed, his voice a soft whisper. "Echo...echolal... lal...la...palilal...lal...la..." The words roll off his tongue, a soothing incantation that seems to calm his racing thoughts. Krabs leans in closer, trying to make out the meaning in the nonsensical string of syllables. He's never heard Plankton talk like this before—his words a mesmerizing tapestry of echoes and repetitions. It's as if he's speaking in a secret code, one that only he can decode. The phrases come faster now, a stream of consciousness that's both fascinating and eerie. "Echo...echolal...lal...la... Palilal...lal...la...echolal..." Krabs watches, his own thoughts a jumble of confusion and regret. He's seen Plankton's quirks before, the repetitive movements and the occasional strange sounds, but he's never seen this intensity, this complete retreat into his own world. It's as if Plankton is trying to build a fortress around himself, one that keeps the pain of the outside world at bay. So, he tries to make his way in. "Palilal...lal...la...echolal..." The words keep coming, each one a puzzle piece that Krabs tries to fit into the larger picture. He looks to Karen, his eyes pleading for guidance. Karen's expression is a mix of concern and understanding. "It's ok, Plankton," she says, her voice calm. "You don't have to explain." But Krabs can't let it go. He needs to know, to understand what he's done to his enemy that has brought him to this state. "What are you sa-" But Plankton throws the fidget across the room, the plastic pieces clattering against the wall; yet his eye remains glazed. Karen steps forward, her hand lifting to cup his cheek. "It's ok, sweetie," she says, her voice calm. "You don't have to talk if you don't want." She knows his stims, his silent mantras, are his way of navigating a world that often feels too loud, too bright, too confusing. She's been his anchor for so long, his interpreter of a language that others don't always understand. Krabs' eyes widen at the sudden outburst, his heart pounding in his chest. He's accustomed to Plankton's usual theatrics, but this is different. This is raw, this is real. He can see the pain etched into every line of Plankton's face, every twitch of his antennae. "What should I do?" He whispers to Karen, his voice desperate. Karen's gaze doesn't leave Plankton's face. She knows that his stims are a way to find peace in the chaos, a language that only she can understand. "Just give him space," she says, her voice a soothing balm. "He'll come back to us when he's ready." With that, Karen goes to the bedside drawer where the box of sensory items is kept. It's a treasure trove of textures and sounds, a collection that Plankton has amassed over the years to help him navigate the often-overwhelming world. She opens it with care, her eyes scanning the various fidgets and toys, each one holding a special place in Plankton's heart. She puts the box on his bed like an offering. "Here, sweetie," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Use something if it helps." Mr. Krabs watches, his eyes widening at the array of items. He's never seen anything like it—so many strange, wonderful things that seem to make no sense. Yet, they are a comfort to Plankton, a way to make sense of the world. He can't help but be curious, his eyes darting from one item to the next. What could these simple objects mean to his enemy? He reaches out a tentative claw, picking up a soft, squeezable ball. It feels strange in his grip, unlike anything he's ever held. "What does this do?" He asks, his voice a mix of wonder and ignorance. Plankton doesn't respond, his eye widening at the sight of Krabs taking his precious items without asking. Karen intervenes, her hand covering Krabs' claw. "These are for Plankton," she says, firm but gentle. "They're his tools for coping. Please, let him choose." Krabs withdraws his claw, his curiosity piqued but respectful. He watches as Plankton's eye flits from one item to the next. "Echo...echolal...lal...la... Palilal...lal...la...echo..." Plankton's murmurs slow, his breathing evening out. He reaches for a plush octopus from the sensory box, its tentacles a jumble of textures. He squeezes it tightly, the softness grounding him. "What...what is that?" Krabs asks, nodding towards the octopus. Karen smiles, a hint of pride in her voice. "It's a comfort object," she explains. "It has different textures to soothe his senses when things get too much." She watches as Plankton's fingers trace over the fabric, each a lifeline back to reality. "Everyone on the spectrum has their own way of dealing with overwhelm." Krabs holds his hand out to Plankton, palm up. "May I?" He asks, his voice hopeful. Plankton's murmurs fade, his breathing steady. He looks up, his eye meeting Krabs' with a hint of wariness before going back to his octopus without an answer. Krabs' heart skips a beat, his claws hovering over the box. He's desperate to connect, to show Plankton that he cares. He picks up a smooth, polished stone, rolling it between his fingers. "What's this one fo—" But Plankton's antennae snap up, his gaze sharp and fierce. "MINE!" He snatches the stone from Krabs' grasp, his voice a whipcrack of protectiveness. The room holds its breath, the tension palpable as Krabs' hand retreats, his eyes wide. Karen sighs, stepping between them. "Krabs," she says, her voice firm but kind. "These items are personal to Plankton. They help him regulate his senses. Please respect his space and his things." Krabs nods, his eyes never leaving the plush octopus Plankton clutches tightly. "I'm just trying to understand," he says, his voice thick with emotion. Plankton's grip on the octopus doesn't loosen, but his murmurs have ceased. The room is silent except for the sound of his shallow breathing. Krabs swallows hard, trying to find the right words. "What can I do?" He asks, his voice cracking. "How can I help?" Karen looks at him, her screen filled with a mix of pity and frustration. "Just be there," she says, her voice firm. "Don't try to fix him. Just be present. That's what he needs." Krabs nods, his eyes still on Plankton. He doesn't know what that means, but he's willing to try. He sits down on the bed, his movements careful not to startle him. Plankton's grip on the octopus doesn't waver, but his eye flickers towards Krabs. It's a tiny gesture, but it's enough to give him hope.