˗ˏˋ✟ˎˊ˗ 𝕣𝕖𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟 𝕥𝕠 𝔾𝕠𝕕 ˗ˏˋ✟ˎˊ˗

𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖯𝖳𝖠𝖡𝖫𝖤 𝖥𝖠𝖬𝖨𝖫𝖸 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) Pt. 9 Chip watches, his eyes red from crying. "Is he okay?" He asks again, his voice small. Karen nods, wiping her own tears away. "He'll be okay," she whispers. "We just need to rest now." Chip crawls into his own bed, his thoughts racing. He doesn't know what to make of his dad's outburst or the seizure. He feels scared and alone. Karen notices and comes to sit beside him. "Chip," she says gently. "Dad's okay. This can happen. It's just how his brain works. It gets overwhelmed. Now when he's like that, it's important we let him be, okay?" Chip nods, his throat tight. "But I di-" "You didn't do anything wrong," Karen cuts him off. "You just didn't understand. And that's okay." She smiles at him, her eyes warm. "He just gets frustrated when his stims are interrupted. It's his way of dealing with the world." Chip nods, watching his mom as she carefully organizes Plankton's sensory items back. "But why does he let you when he doesn't let me—" "Because, Chip," Karen says, her voice still gentle, "I know how to support his stims without causing him more distress. You'll learn too, with time." She picks up the fidget toy, her eyes on Plankton's still form. "Remember, his needs are different than ours. Sometimes, his brain needs extra help to make sense of things, and these stims are a way of doing that." Chip nods, his understanding growing. He watches as Karen places the toys back into the bag. "But why'd he yell?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that he doesn't love you," Karen explains. "It's just that sometimes, his brain feels like it's going a million miles an hour, and his body needs to catch up." She looks at Plankton's sleeping form. "When you touched him, his fidgets you stopped that for him. And it was too much to handle. So he could only express his frustration." Chip's eyes never left his dad's peaceful expression. "But he was so mad..." "It's not you, Chip. It's the world," Karen sighs. "Sometimes, it's just too much for him. And when that happens, he needs his stims." She stands up, moving to Plankton's side of the bed. "Let's let Dad sleep now. Tomorrow's a big day.." The next morning, Karen went in through Plankton's curtain to wake him. "Hey, sleepyhead," she whispers, her hand brushing his shoulder gently. "It's time to get up." Plankton's antennae twitch as he opens his eye, looking around disoriented. "Whaa-" he mumbles. Karen smiles softly, his post-seizure loops already worn off. "Good morning," she says, helping him sit up. "It's time for the science fair. Let's wake Chip up, ok?" Plankton nods slowly. He can remember the stimming and his outburst at Chip. He sighed. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his voice still thick with sleep. "I didn't mean to..." "You don't have to apologize," Karen says, interrupting him. "You were just trying to cope." She helps him to his feet, her hands steady. "We'll talk to Chip about it after I wake him." Plankton nods, his eye still half-closed. He follows Karen to Chip's bed, feeling guilt heavy in his heart. His son's sleeping form is peaceful. "Chip," Karen says gently, shaking him awake. "It's time for the science fair, buddy!" Chip blinks, the memory of last night's events flooding back. He looks at Plankton, his heart aching with guilt and fear. Plankton sees the look on Chip's face and sighs, sitting down on the bed beside him. "Hello." Chip's voice is barely above a whisper. "Hi, Dad." Karen watches them both, knowing that now is the time for Plankton to try and explain. But his words are stuck, his mouth dry. He doesn't know how to put into words his regret for last night's outburst. "Chip," Plankton begins awkwardly. "I...I uh, I-I-I-I…" He stammers, his antennae twitching with the effort of finding the words. Karen watches with concern, knowing his difficulty with expressing emotions, especially in moments like these. "It's okay," she murmurs, her hand on his back. Chip looks at his dad, his eyes questioning. He's seen Plankton stim before, but his stuttering is new, his body seemingly frozen with anxiety. Plankton's antennae wave nervously. "I...I'm I-I'm, I-I-I-I…" He tries to say sorry, but the word is stuck, his brain racing. Karen's hand squeezes his shoulder, silent support. "It's okay," she whispers. "Take your time." Plankton's antennae twitch faster, his face contorted with the effort to articulate his thoughts. "I...I..." his voice cracks. He looks at Chip, his son's gaze filled with concern and fear. The silence stretches between them, a tense wire threatening to snap. Plankton knows he must find the words, must explain his behavior, but his mouth refuses to cooperate. His mind whirls with the desire to apologize, but the words are elusive. Chip's gaze is steady, his fear replaced with sympathy as he watches his dad struggle. He knows his dad didn't mean to scare him last night. He knows his dad's brain works differently, and he wants to understand. "Chip, I'm so...so..." The words won't come out. He's trapped in his own head, a prisoner to his autism's quirks. Karen's hand squeezes tighter, urging him on. "It's okay, Plankton," she says softly. "Just tell him what yo--" But Plankton's stuttering stops abruptly, his single eye wide with panic. "I-I-I-I-I-" He can't form the word, his mouth opening and closing. Karen's heart aches for him, seeing his desperation to connect with Chip. "It's okay," she soothes. "We can just talk about what happened." Plankton nods, his antennae slowing down. "I d-didn’t m-mean to scare y-you," he finally manages to say, his voice still shaky. "My brain gets...messy." Chip looks at his dad, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. "It's okay," he whispers, his voice small but sure. "I know you didn't mea-" "No, it's not okay!" Plankton's voice cracks. "I need to apologize! I need to make it right!" His body starts to tremble. Karen's eyes fill with compassion. "Plankton," she says softly. "You don't have to force it. Ju—" But Plankton's desperation overwhelms him. "I-I-I... I hurt you," he stammers, looking at Chip, his antennae drooping. "I didn't mean to, I didn't mean to!" Chip's eyes fill with tears as he reaches for his dad's hand. "Dad, I--" But Plankton flinches away. "No," he says, his voice harsh in agitation. Chip's hand drops back to his lap with confusion. Plankton's face twists in some thing akin to disgust as he quickly pulls away from Chip's touch, his hands waving in a frenzied manner. Chip's eyes widen with confusion. Karen steps in. "Remember, Chip," she says softly. "Your dad's brain is sensitive to certain touches. It's not you, it's just his autism." She gives his hand a gentle squeeze. "We've got to respect his boundaries." Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "I-I'm sorry," he stammers. "I'll try to do better." Plankton's hands do not stop their frantic movement. "I-I know my brain...it just doesn't like it." He rocks slightly back and forth. "No no, not the touch. The surprise," he whispers. "Must not touch, must not touch," he repeats to himself in a stim. "Gla-gla-glitch," he murmurs. His hands flap at his sides as Karen watches him without interrupting his self-soothing.