𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) "Gordon, I think it's happening," Ma Plankton said, her voice tight with both excitement and nerves. as she felt pressure build within her tiny frame. Her husband, Gordon Plankton, paused in his work. They've had lots of kids already, so Gordon Plankton knew the drill. Ma Plankton's antennae quivered, hinting at the imminent arrival of their newest addition. Gordon walks closer, his eye wide. "Ya think it's now?" The room was simple, but meticulously clean. Ma Plankton's bed was ready, filled with warm blankets at the hospital. Gordon had worked hard. Anticipation grew as Ma Plankton felt contractions. The nurse rushed in. "It's time," she announced, her claws clicking in efficiency, calm but firm. The nurse called for the doctor, who rushed in as the baby's tiny head started to emerge. But then it stopped, the baby unable to go any further. The doctor called for more staff, and the room was suddenly filled with medics. "Ma'am, we're going to need to assist. The baby's stuck. We must be careful to manually pull him out." The medical staff moved swiftly, their gloved hands interlocking to form a careful grip around the baby's tiny form. Sweat beaded on the doctor's forehead as she applied gentle but firm pressure. Ma Plankton gritted her teeth, her eye's squeezed shut as she bore down with all her might. Each push was met with resistance, the baby's struggle echoing her own internal fight. Gordon hovered nervously. The doctor's voice was steady. "Again, Ma. We're almost there." With a final, desperate heave, the baby's head was free. The medical staff paused, their eyes flicking to the X-ray ultrasonography. The doctor nodded to the nurse, who rolled it closer with quick, precise movements to baby Sheldon Plankton before comparing prenatal imaging to the new antenatal one. Ma's heart raced. "Is everything ok?" she asked, voice quivering. The doctor took a deep breath before speaking. "Ma'am, the birth was dystocic. Your baby's delivery was...complicated. But we managed to get Sheldon out safely." She paused, glancing at Gordon, then back to Ma. "Yet the birth impacted his brain structure irreversibly. As he was being born, Plankton experienced severe stress that affected his neural pathways. He has acquired autism." That was long ago. That was Sheldon Plankton's birth. His own neurodisability. Now, Plankton and Karen, who's learned every little thing about his autistic seizures and preferences, fell in love as they grew up. Eventually, Chip, their son adopted as a new- born, came into the picture. Plankton adored his son, yet Plankton's pride was why nobody else other than Karen knew he's neurodisabled. "Be home at least by dinner!" Karen had last told Chip before he went to play. Yet Chip came home earlier than that, and his parents didn't immediately know he'd arrived back. And that's how Chip accidentally found out about his dad's neurodisabilities. Karen had Plankton's special box of sensory items nearby, as he's exiting one of his mini seizures. Sometimes after a seizure, his neuroregressions can be alarmingly odd for those who wouldn't know. And now Chip saw them. Chip peeked into his parent's bedroom to find Plankton on his bed with Karen. Sheldon Plankton's postictal loopiness was something Karen had grown used to. After a seizure, Plankton often retreated into his own world, his thoughts tangled in sensory overload and confusion. He'd laugh at nothing, or become fixated on a random object with childlike wonder. This was his brain's way of recalibrating, of finding a new equilibrium amidst the chaos. On this particular afternoon, Chip watched from the doorway, his curiosity piqued. He saw his dad playing with a box of sensory toys, his eye alight with joy. There were squishy balls, fidget spinners, and even a special pillow. Plankton picked up a soft, fuzzy toy and strobed it in front of his eye, chuckling to himself. Karen noticed Chip's shadow in the doorway and turned to see their son watching them. Her expression softened. "Sweetie, come here," she called, patting the bed. "I need to talk to you about something." Chip approached cautiously, his eyes never leaving his father. He knew his dad was quirky, but he had never seen this. "Is he ok?" he asked, his voice small and uncertain. Karen took a deep breath, her hand resting on Plankton's shoulder as she turned to face their son. "Your dad's brain works differently, honey. Sometimes, when his body gets overwhelmed, he has these moments." Plankton, still in the throes of his postictal loopiness, noticed Chip and his eye lit up. He held out the fuzzy toy, still strobing it. "Meee!" He giggled, oblivious to the seriousness of the situation. "Daddy has autism," Karen explained gently, her voice soothing. "And when he has a seizure, his brain needs some extra love and care to get back to normal." Chip's eyes widened. He heard about autism from school, but he never imagined his dad had it. He looked at Plankton playing with the toys, his movements erratic, yet somehow soothing. Plankton had always been so good at hiding it. Now, Chip realized that his dad's quirks weren't just quirks - they were his way of coping with a world that was often too loud, too bright, too much. He felt a pang of sadness, but also admiration. Plankton was so strong. Karen saw the wheels turning in Chip's mind. She knew this was a big revelation for him. "It's okay to feel confused," she assured him. "But what's important is that we support Daddy. He loves you so much, and this is just a part of who he is." Chip nodded slowly, still watching Plankton with the fuzzy toy. He was trying to process it all. Autism. Seizures. This secret. "Can I sit with him?" he asks tentatively. Karen smiles and nods, "Of course, honey." She moves over to make space for Chip on the bed. "Just remember to be gentle."

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 2 Plankton, still in his sensory-induced giggle fit, notices Chip's approach. Chip sits carefully beside his father, the bed dipping slightly under his weight. He reaches out a hand, slow and steady, and touches the fuzzy toy. Plankton stops strobing it and instead hands it to Chip. "Yi," he says. Chip takes the toy, unsure what to do, but his dad's calm demeanor reassures him. He runs his thumb over the soft fur, feeling the tiny fibers tickle his skin. Plankton watches with a gentle smile. "Spin?" he asks, his voice a gentle rasp. Chip nods and starts to rotate the toy. Plankton's eye follows the motion, a look of contentment washing over his face. It was strange to see his dad like this, so... vulnerable. But Chip felt his own heart swell with love. As the toy spins, the colors blur into a mesmerizing whirl. Chip feels the tension in the room ease slightly. He's never seen his dad so open, so unguarded. It's like getting a glimpse into a part of Plankton that's been locked away. Yet Karen knows Plankton's not gonna be pleased when he comes out of it to see his son interacting with him and his sensory items! Plankton's giggles continue to fill the room as Chip spins the fuzzy toy, matching his dad's earlier rhythm. The colors swirl into a hypnotic dance, and for a moment, it's as if the world outside their bubble doesn't exist. Chip feels a strange connection forming, a bond born from this shared experience. Slowly, Plankton's laughter fades into quietude, his eye blinking rapidly as he begins to emerge from the loop. Karen watches closely, ready to step in if needed. But then Plankton's gaze meets Chip's. The boy's eyes are wide with understanding and concern. Plankton feels a sudden wave of self-consciousness sweep over him, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. He hadn't meant for Chip to see him like this, so exposed. The silence is thick with emotion as Plankton tries to piece together what happened. He knows he had a seizure, but his memories are hazy, like fragments of a forgotten dream. "Chip," Plankton starts, his voice gruff and defensive. "What are you doing here?" Chip jumps back. "I-I was just looking for you," he stammers. "But then I saw..." His voice trails off. Plankton snatches the toy away, his movements quick and jerky. "These are mine," he snaps. "Not for you." Chip's eyes water, the sudden anger from his dad catching him off-guard. He hadn't meant to intrude, but now he felt like he'd broken something fragile. "But Dad," Chip stammers, his voice quivering. "I didn't know. I ju—" "You shouldn't have been snooping!" Plankton snaps, trying to shield himself from his son's innocent curiosity. Karen sighs. The room is suddenly charged with tension. Chip's heart sinks. "Dad, I'm sorry," he whispers, his eyes glistening. "I didn't mean to—" "Out!" Plankton yells, his voice echoing sharply in the small space, cutting off Chip's apology. The boy jumps up from the bed, dropping the fuzzy toy, and runs out of the room. Karen sighs, exasperated. "Sheldon, that wasn't fair," she scolds, using his full name to convey her seriousness. Plankton's shoulders slump. "I just...I can't have him seeing me like this," he mutters, his voice tight. "Unfair is the fact that I have to deal with this, myself. Why did he have to find out like that?" Karen sits beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay to be upset, Plankton," she says, her tone kind but firm. "But you can't hide from Chip forever. You're his father, and he loves you. He's going to have questions." Plankton turns away, his eye misty. "I don't know how to explain it to him," he murmurs. "What if he thinks I'm weak?" Karen's hand tightens on his shoulder. "You're not weak," she says firmly. "You're strong, and you're brave. And autism is just a part of what makes you, you." Plankton nods slowly, his shoulders still tense. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the effort. "Okay," he finally says, turning back to face her. "But what do I tell him?" Karen squeezes his hand. "You tell him the truth," she says gently. "You tell him that autism is just a part of who you are, and that you have good days and bad days, just like everyone else." Plankton nods slowly, taking another deep breath. He's always been good at hiding his condition, blending in with the rest of the world. But from the moment Chip was born, he knew he had to be a strong, stoic figure for his son. Yet now, with his secret out in the open, he feels exposed. He squeezes Karen's hand back, feeling a mix of fear and relief. "What if he's scared of me?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper. Karen shakes her head firmly. "He's not going to be scared, Plankton. He's going to be curious. And he'll love you just as much, if not more, for being honest with him." With a heavy sigh, Plankton nods. He knows his wife is right. It's time for Chip to understand his father's world, a place filled with sensory overload and silent battles. He finds Chip in his bedroom, curled up on the bed with a favorite book. The room is quiet, the only sound the faint rustle of pages turning. Plankton's heart clenches at the sight of his son's sadness. "Chip," he calls, his voice barely above a whisper. Chip looks up, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. He sees his dad standing there, looking so small and vulnerable, and his own walls crumble. He jumps up, running into Plankton's arms. "I'm sorry," he sobs, burying his face in Plankton's chest. But Plankton's body stiffens. He's not used to this kind of contact, especially when he's fresh from a seizure. The sensation of Chip's arms wrapped around him is too much, and he feels the beginnings of a meltdown brewing. He doesn't know how to tell his son that he needs space, that touch isn't always comforting. Gritting his teeth, Plankton endures the embrace for a moment longer before gently pushing Chip away. "Not now," he says, his voice strained. "I need...I don't need touch." Chip's eyes widen in regret. He steps back, his arms dropping to his sides. "I'm sorry," he says again, his voice small. "I didn't know."