Fandom: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon) Relationships: Eugene Krabs & Sheldon J. Plankton, Eugene Krabs/Sheldon J. Plankton Characters: Eugene Krabs, Sheldon J. Plankton, SpongeBob SquarePants, Spot, Squidward Tentacles, Karen (SpongeBob) Language:English Collections:Anonymous Stats: Published:2024-08-13 Summary: Mr. Krabs hasn't seen Plankton in a few days. So why are the doors boarded up? Notes: This can be read as either platonic or romantic between Plankton and Krabs. There are slight mentions and hints, but it's not really brought up or focused on. It's just kind of in the background. Work Text: The sound of coins clinking is like music to Mr.Krabs. He counts his earnings for the day in his office. Something seemed off to the crab, yet he couldn’t place his claw on it. A lot of customers came in today. Everything was accounted for. There were no issues. And no Plankton… Now that he thinks about it, he hasn’t seen his arch nemesis in a few days. The tiny green creature usually makes a daily attempt to steal the secret formula. A cheerful sponge throws the door open to his office, startling him for a split second. “Closing time!” The crustacean lifts a claw up and waves it. “Good work today, lads!” He closes up the safe and walks out his office, checking his establishment. “Everything looks to be in ship shape. I’ll see ye tomorrow!” “See ya Mr.Krabs!” The sponge cheered. “Later Krabs,” the squid finally speaks up. The two employees hang their hats and start their walk home. Eugene looks outside, seeing only a bit of the sun in the sky. The streetlights are starting to flicker on. He takes a glance at the Chum Bucket across the street. The place was completely dark, from what he could see. He exits his establishment, locking up, and walks across the street to meet up with his rival. The crab can now see the state of the Chum Bucket. Yes, it looked like a dump in the past, but now the doors were boarded up. He takes a step back, also noticing that the glove that lifted up the handle of the Chum Bucket previously is now smashed into the roof. Alright, something is definitely wrong here , he thinks to himself, as if he’s just now putting the clues together. He steps up to the double doors and rips the wood off before trying to push the doors open. When he realizes that the doors are probably locked on the inside, he takes a few steps back before charging at it. Eugene successfully breaks through the doors, flying into the Chum Bucket and breaking a wooden chair when he lands on it. “Krabs?” Small footsteps made their way to the crustacean. The voice from the creature was more raspy than usual. “What are you doing here?” The only light shining through was from the streetlight outside. Once Plankton was in Krab’s view, Eugine noted that his antennas were curved down and his eye was watery. The only response the crab could give was “It’s Thursday”. “It’s already Thursday?” Plankton rubs his eye before looking over to the calendar on the wall. His voice was monotone, scaring more than he already was. “Boarded up signs means no visitors.” He turns around and slowly walks to the back, adding “Go home, Krabs”. Krabs stood for a moment, not having any idea what to do next. They’ve had a rivalry for years, should he really be helping? Should he get in Sheldon’s business? Since Plankton was so small, and was walking slower than usual, the red creature had plenty of time to think. After contemplating his options, he finally asks “Why is the power off?” Plankton stops in his tracks. Silence filled the room for a brief moment as the crab waited for an answer. “My power was turned off,” he answers honestly. He could tell something was bugging the small creature. “Couldn’t pay yer bills, huh Plankton?” The crustacean laughs at his rival's suffering before he notices he’s walking away again. “Hey, where ye going?” “Bed.” “Huh? It’s only 6pm! Who’d want to go to bed this early?” He finally stands up off the ground, taking a few steps towards the green creature when he doesn't answer. Despite Sheldon being his rival for years, he hated seeing him so bummed. Sure, he failed all the time at stealing his secret formula, but he had never been this heartsick. Krabs finally takes in his surroundings. The place’s odor seeped through his nostrils. The tables and chairs were bent in different directions, some even being torn out of the floor completely. A table that was neither had photos laid out of Plankton, Karen, and their pet, Spot. “Where’s Karen? …And, the little pet of yers?” The tall crab watches as the one-eyed organism breaks, lying on the ground and curling in on himself. Eugene hesitates for a minute, not knowing if he should assure him, or how. By his reaction, Karen and Spot weren’t there to help. Sheldon’s reaction reminded him of how he was when his wife passed, trying to care for Pearl as he grieved. He looks around the restaurant again noting it wasn’t the best place for anyone to stay at. Krabs hesitantly picks him up off the ground and carries him all the way back to his house. Plankton either didn’t know or didn’t care that he was being taken away. He was too focused on the loss. ___________________________________________________________________ After a day of staying at Krab’s home, Plankton finally talks. He surprised himself when he finally did, specially since he was getting vulnerable with his rival. It started when his pet, Spot, ran away. He spent the whole day looking. Karen stayed at home, printing missing fliers. When Plankton got home later that night to see if Spot came back, Karen told him to get sleep, and they would look for him the next day. The next morning, Karen and Sheldon went their separate ways in town. Plankton later got a call from the Hospital that Karen was hit by a boat. He rushed there finding all of her parts and pieces shattered. He tried repairs with no luck. He even begged Sandy to help! The only thing the squirrel told him when she saw the damage was “Sorry”. He lost motivation. Plankton closed down his restaurant and hid in his room for days. Plankton sobbed into a small pillow on a makeshift bed as he told it. He was worried that the crab would make fun but instead, he felt a claw start to awkwardly rub his back. A few days have gone by since he’s told Eugene. For the past days, he’s stayed in the bed, which was a small, empty, unused chest, a pillow, and a blanket. Pearl would bring him meals and check on him when Krabs was at work. All he wanted was his wife and Spot, but he knew one of those, he would never get back. His thoughts to go searching for his amoeba were crushed by the voice in his head saying, “What’s the use?”. When Krabs came back, he would chat with Plankton to give him some comfort. Usually, Plankton would like to be left alone in his thoughts. But Eugene knew exactly how he felt. The same thing happened when it came to his wife. Surprisingly enough, he found comfort in the red crab. He felt free to talk about anything that was on his mind, and Eugene would listen. He missed his wife. He missed Spot. At least he had someone there for him. ___________________________________________________________ Plankton wakes up in a cold sweat from another nightmare. The sun was starting to set outside, giving Plankton a beautiful view from his bed on the window seal when he sat up. Focusing on the sunset, he stared out the window for a minute. It was a Sunday, and even though Krabs had his restaurant closed, he told the small creature that he would be out for the majority of the day. He tucks himself back into his bed and tries to go to sleep again. Minutes go by before the door to the room opens up and he hears footsteps. “Hey Plankton,” a voice starts. “I heard about Karen. I figured I’d come and comfort ya. I’m sorry about what happened.” Sheldon covers his head and groans. SpongeBob noted the small creature’s body language but continued anyway. “I got you a little something.” “No. I’m not in the mood.” “I think you’ll like it!” The cheerful sponge pesters. Plankton huffs pulling the blanket off of him, immediately getting licked in the face by… “Spot?” The amoeba barked jumping on his owner. “SPOT!” Plankton wrapped his arms around his pet as they reunited. “Spot, you’re safe!” Tears start forming in his eye and he holds his pet tighter. “Aww.” SpongeBob bats his eyes. “I told ya you’d like it! We were out looking for him all day!” “We?” He looks to the door, finding Eugene at the doorway. “Yeah! It was Mr. Krabs idea. We looked everywhere! Turns out, he was staying at my library blah blah blah-” Plankton started zoning out as the sponge kept talking, overwhelmed with emotion. “-Oh, it looks like we have to go. Bye Plankton! Hope you start feeling better soon!” The fact Krabs did to help find his pet warmed his heart. Mr. Krabs says his farewells to his employee as Plankton showers Spot with affection. When the crab is done, he checks in with Sheldon again. He walks back up and knocks on the bedroom door before opening it. Plankton is still tickled by his pet and receiving kisses. “I missed you so much, Spot! Don’t you run away again!” The crab chuckles, startling Plankton, who didn’t realize he was back in the room. “You were out looking for Spot?” The red creature rubs the head/shell and darts his eyes away. “Oh, well… I figured since… ye know…” Plankton found himself speaking again. “Thanks, Eugene.” He sounded both shocked and grateful as he spoke. The crab finally gets the words he was looking for earlier together as he speaks. “Well, ye’ve been through a lot. Thought ye’d ought to get something good in yer life.” Krabs glances back at the small creature, finally smiling for the first time in what has seemed like eternity. https://archiveofourown.org/works/58159567

KAREN TOLD THE DOCTOR 2/2 (Autistic author) Karen guided him back to their living quarters. Plankton followed her, his steps slow and measured. Each word she spoke was met with an echo. "Home," she said as they entered, and "Home," he repeated, his eye darting around the room, trying to make sense of his surroundings. The space was cluttered with his inventions, a stark contrast to the neatness that Karen had always strived for. It was a mess, but to him, it was a comforting chaos. "Bed," she pointed, indicating where he should rest. He nodded, his gaze lingering on the familiar object. "Bed," he echoed, a hint of understanding in his tone. Together, they moved through the space, each step a gentle reintroduction to a life that had changed so dramatically. Karen felt like she was walking on eggshells, afraid to say the wrong thing, to push him too far. Plankton's gaze flitted from object to object, his voice a soft whisper of repetition. "Chair, chair," he mumbled, fixating. She watched as he touched the material, his fingertips tracing the seams, his mind racing with sensory input. "Yes, Plankton, that's a chair," she said, her voice a gentle reminder of the world around them. "You sit on it to rest." Plankton nodded, the concept of rest still elusive. "Rest," he repeated, his voice a shadow of hers. Karen guided him to the chair, his body stiff with uncertainty. He sat down slowly. "Rest," he murmured, his body finally relaxing. As they sat together in the cluttered room, Karen realized that their life was going to be a series of tiny moments like these, each one a delicate dance of patience and understanding. "Love you," she said, her voice thick with emotion. Plankton's eye flitted to hers, his expression a puzzled mixture of feelings. "Love you," he echoed, his voice a mirror of her own. Karen swallowed a lump in her throat. "I know it's confusing, Plankton. But I'm here for you," she whispered, her hand squeezing his. Plankton nodded, his gaze flitting around the room, his mind a whirlwind of sounds and sensations. "Here," he echoed, his voice barely above a murmur. Karen led him to their bed, his steps unsure and sluggish. He had never been so reliant on her. "Bed," she said, pointing to the soft, inviting mattress. Plankton stared at it, the word bouncing around in his head like a pinball. "Bed," he echoed, his voice barely audible. With Karen's guidance, Plankton lay down, his body finally surrendering to exhaustion. The fabric of the sheets was a cool caress against his skin, a sensation he found oddly comforting. The ceiling fan spun above, casting shadows that danced in a hypnotic pattern. "Goodnight, Plankton," Karen said, her voice a soothing lullaby in the quiet room. Plankton's eye was closed now, his breaths slow and deep. The world outside had faded away, leaving only the rhythmic whirring of the fan and the gentle lapping of the waves against the window. Karen stood by the bed, watching his chest rise and fall. In the quiet, she noticed the way his antennas twitched, as if he was dreaming of the sea's mysteries. Or perhaps he was dreaming of the Krabby Patty formula, the elusive prize that had consumed his mind for so long. Karen's smile was bittersweet. He had always been so driven, so obsessed with outsmarting Mr. Krabs. Now, the dreams he chased were more innocent, more pure. The room was bathed in a soft blue light from the moon, casting a peaceful glow over Plankton's sleeping form. Karen leaned over and kissed his forehead, his skin cool and clammy. "Rest well, my love," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress in the silent room. As the night stretched on, Plankton's sleep remained deep and untroubled. Karen sat by his side, her mind racing with thoughts of the future. How would they manage the Chum Bucket? What about his schemes against Mr. Krabs? Would he still be able to cook, to innovate, to live the life they had built together? Karen woke up first the next day, her eyes gently adjusting to the dim light of dawn. Plankton was still asleep beside her, his body curled into a tight ball. The ceiling fan had stopped spinning hours ago, leaving the room in a comforting silence. She studied his face, her heart heavy with love and worry. The lines of tension had softened with sleep, and for a moment, he almost looked like the Plankton she knew before the fall. She kissed his forehead, her lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary. His skin was cool to the touch, and she couldn't help but wonder what dreams played out behind his closed eye. Dreams of a world that made sense, or a world filled with the sensory overload that now consumed his waking hours? The morning light grew stronger, casting long shadows across the cluttered room. Karen knew she had to start the day, to face the challenges that awaited them. But she couldn't bear to leave his side, not yet. Plankton's snores grew softer, his body slowly unfurling from its defensive ball. He mumbled something unintelligible, his eye twitching beneath his eyelid. Was he dreaming of the ocean? Of Krabby Patties? Or was it something entirely different, a world only he could see? The morning light grew brighter, painting the room in shades of pink and orange. Karen sat by the window, watching the sun rise over the Bikini Bottom skyline. The usual symphony of sounds from outside seemed muted today, as if the world knew something important had shifted. Plankton stirred in his sleep, his antennas twitching with the first whispers of the new day. Karen's heart skipped a beat as she watched him, wondering what thoughts swam in his head. Would he wake up and be the same Plankton she knew, or was he lost in a world of his own, navigating a sea of sensory overwhelm? The sun creeped through the cracks in the curtains, casting warm beams of light across the room. The shadows grew shorter, the darkness receding with each passing moment. Karen took a deep breath, preparing herself for whatever the day might bring. Plankton stirred again, his single eye fluttering open. "Morning," he said, his voice still slightly mechanical. Karen turned to him with a smile, the worry in her eyes masked by her determination. "Good morning, honey," she replied, her voice cheerful despite the heaviness. He sat up, the sheets sliding off his slender frame. Plankton took a deep breath, his eye finding Karen's. "Good morning," he echoed, his voice a little more steady. Karen smiled with hope. "How did you sleep?" Plankton nodded, his gaze flitting to the ceiling. "Bed, good," he said, his voice a soft echo of her own. Despite his new challenges, Plankton was still trying to make sense of the world. He stood up, his legs shaky and unsure. Karen watched him with a mix of anxiety and admiration. He was trying so hard, his body and mind fighting to find a balance in this new reality. "Let's go to the kitchen," she suggested, her voice filled with optimism. Plankton nodded, his movements cautious. In the kitchen, the smell of the sea was strong, mingling with the scents of grease and salt. His antennas quivered as he took in the sensory assault. Karen guided him to the stove. "Would you like to make chum?" she asked, her voice soft and encouraging. Plankton's gaze darted to the bubbling pot, his eye lighting up. "Chum," he murmured, his voice a comforting echo. He nodded, his enthusiasm genuine despite his confusion. Karen smiled, her heart lifting at the familiar spark in his eye. "Yes, honey. Let's make some chum together," she said, guiding him through the process step by step. Plankton's hands hovered over the ingredients, his gaze flitting from Karen to the various containers. "Chum," he whispered, as if reciting a sacred incantation. Karen handed him a spatula, his favorite tool for cooking. His hand closed around it with a determination she hadn't seen since before the accident. "Stir," she instructed, her voice calm and steady. Plankton focused on the task, his eye fixed on the swirling mixture. The motion was soothing, a familiar rhythm that his brain could latch onto. "Stir," he echoed, his voice a comforting metronome. Karen watched him, her heart beating a little faster. Would he remember how to cook, how to make the chum that had kept their restaurant afloat for so long? She held her breath as he tentatively began to move the spatula in circles. The chum sizzled and popped, the sounds echoing around the kitchen. Plankton's eye grew wide. "Sound," he said, his voice reverting to a soft echo. Karen nodded, her gaze encouraging. "Yes, it's the sound of chum cooking," she said, smiling despite the lump in her throat. Plankton nodded, his movements becoming more confident as he continued to stir. The chum began to thicken, the aroma filling the kitchen. Karen felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was a part of Plankton that was unchanged, a piece of his old self that had survived the fall. Plankton continued to stir, his eye focused on the chum. It was a task he knew well, a comforting routine in a world that now felt like an alien landscape. Karen watched him, her heart in her throat. As he worked, his movements grew more fluid, his body remembering the motions that had been engrained in his muscles for years. "Look, honey, you're doing it," she said, her voice filled with pride. Plankton's eye darted to her, then back to the pot. "Doing it," he echoed, his voice a soft affirmation. The chum began to simmer, the smell filling the room with a comforting warmth. It was a small victory, but one that filled Karen with a renewed sense of optimism. As they stood side by side, cooking the chum, Karen realized that this was their new normal. The man she knew was still there, hidden beneath the layers of echoes and repetition. Her role had shifted from partner in crime to guide and support. But she was ready to face it, to help Plankton navigate his new reality.

KAREN TOLD THE DOCTOR 1/2 (Autistic author) In the quiet town of Bikini Bottom Plankton went about his day. "Honey, don't forget your lunch!" Karen called out from the kitchen of the Chum Bucket, her voice echoing through the small, dimly lit restaurant. Plankton looked down from his ladder with a grin, his single eyebrow arched in amusement. "Thanks, dear. I'll be sure to eat," he shouted back, waving before continuing his ascent to the roof. Karen watched him climb, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and admiration. He had always been so industrious, so dedicated to their little establishment. She couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt that his days were spent in such a tiny, unassuming place while his mind dreamt of grandeur. But the love they shared was unshakeable, and she knew that his heart was as big as any of the spectacular inventions he concocted in his lab. With a final heave, Plankton reached the peak of the restaurant. He paused for a moment to catch his breath, the sea breeze whipping through his antennas. The view from the top was surprisingly beautiful, offering a rare glimpse of the vast ocean beyond the city's coral skyline. The sun was high and warm, casting long shadows over the bustling street below. It was a stark contrast to the chilly, claustrophobic world he often found himself in, but it was a moment of tranquility before the storm of his daily tasks. As he leaned over to place his lunchbox, a sudden gust of wind sent him teetering. Karen's concerned eyes grew wide as she watched her husband wobble, his tiny limbs flailing for balance. In a heart-stopping instant, Plankton lost his footing and plummeted towards the unforgiving concrete. Time seemed to slow down as Karen's scream pierced the air. Plankton's mind raced with a million thoughts, but one stood out above the rest: 'I hope this doesn't hurt too much'. The impact was deafening, a sickening crack reverberating through the alley. The world around him turned to a dizzying blur as pain shot through his skull. Karen bolted from the kitchen. She rushed to Plankton's side. Her hands trembled as she tried to lift his head. "Plankton! Speak to me! Are you okay?" He lay unconscious, a grim silence hanging in the air. "Oh no, oh no, oh no," she mumbled, her voice shaking. Her hands wrapped around his frail frame, she cradled him against her chest, willing him to stir. But Plankton remained still, oblivious to the world spinning on around him. His eye is closed. She had to get him to the hospital, fast. At the hospital, the doctors hovered over Plankton, their faces a blur of concerned scrutiny. They muttered in hushed tones, exchanging glances that spelled trouble. After seemingly endless hours of tests and examinations, the doctor approached her, a heavy expression etched on his face. "Mrs. Plankton, I have some news," he began, his words cutting through the hospital's sterile air like a knife through jelly. "Your husband has acquired Autism." Karen felt the floor drop away beneath her. The diagnosis was as unexpected as it was devastating. She had heard of autism, of course, but it was always something that affected others, something that happened to someone else's loved ones. Now, it was her Plankton, the man she had known for so long, who had suddenly become a stranger in his own mind. She clung to his limp hand, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "What does this mean?" she managed to ask, her voice a mere whisper. The doctor explained that acquired Autism was a rare condition that could manifest after a traumatic brain injury. It could cause sudden changes in behavior, social interactions, and communication. Plankton would need time to adjust, and so would she. Karen felt a wave of fear wash over her. How would they navigate this new reality? What would happen to their business? When he finally awoke his usual sharp wit and cunning demeanor had been replaced by a childlike innocence. Plankton blinked slowly, his single eye dazzling with confusion. "Karen?" he murmured, his voice weak and disoriented. She squeezed his hand tightly, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm here," she said, her voice choking. "You've had an accident." He looked around. "You've autism now." He hears the doctor tell him. Karen watched, heart breaking, as Plankton began to stim, his body rocking back and forth, his eye fixed on a spot on the wall. It was a behavior she had never seen from her husband before, and it was as jarring as it was heart-wrenching. The doctor gave her a gentle nod, understanding the overwhelming emotions swirling in her mind. "It's common for those with autism to have repetitive behaviors like this. It's a way for them to self-soothe and process their environment." Karen stroked Plankton's antennas, hoping to offer some comfort. He didn't react at first, but eventually, his rocking slowed, his gaze meeting hers. The intelligence she had always known was still there, but it was as if it was shrouded by a thin veil of bewilderment. "It's okay, Plankton," she soothed, her voice quivering. "We'll get through this." The doctor nodded sympathetically. "It's important that you both learn how to communicate again. Plankton, can you tell me what you're feeling?" Plankton's response was slow, his words a staccato rhythm of echolalic palilalia. "It's okay, Plankton, we'll get through this," he repeated, echoing Karen's earlier sentiment. The words hung in the air, a poignant reminder of the connection they still shared, despite the stark neurological shift. Karen's eyes filled with tears as she nodded. "Yes, we will. But now, tell me what's happening in your head." Plankton fidgeted, his gaze drifting to the doctor. "What's happening in my head?" he repeated, his voice a mirror of Karen's. The doctor smiled kindly. "It means you're echoing the words of others. It's a way that some people with autism process language. It's not uncommon." Karen nodded, wiping at her tears. "Okay. Plankton, can you tell me what you want for dinner?" His eye twitched, the words swirling in his head. "Want for dinner?" he echoed, his voice a mix of his own and hers. It was frustrating for him, trying to make sense of the world through this new filter of repetition. But Karen's patience was unwavering. "Yes, honey, tell me what you want." Plankton's thoughts raced, trying to find the words to express his desires. The doctor observed them, noting the tenacity in Karen's eyes. "It's okay," he assured, "Take your time." Finally, Plankton spoke, his voice a mix of Karen's and his own. "Pizza," he said, his eyes lighting up. "Want pizza for dinner." The simple response brought a relieved smile to Karen's face. "Pizza it is," she agreed, her voice steady. The doctor nodded, making a note. "This is a good start," he said. "Echoing is a part of the process. You can now get to leave the hospital." Once they were back at the Chum Bucket, Karen gets pizza. Plankton sat at their usual table, his eye glued to the spinning ceiling fan. "It's spinning, it's spinning," he whispered to himself, the words a comforting mantra in the cacophony of his thoughts. Karen placed the pizza in front of him, his favorite topping: mushroom. The smell wafted up, and she watched as his face lit up, a glimpse of the Plankton she knew peeking through the fog. "Thank you, Karen," he said, his voice still slightly mechanical. She smiled, her heart swelling with love and hope. "You're welcome, honey," she replied, echoing his phrase back to him. He nodded, his eyes never leaving the fan. "It's spinning," he murmured. Karen sat down across from him, picking up a slice of pizza. "Would you like a piece?" she asked, deliberately using simple, direct language. Plankton's eye flicked from the spinning fan to the pizza, then back again. He nodded slowly. "Like a piece," he echoed, his fingers reaching tentatively for the cheesy delight. The melted cheese stretched out, snapping back as he pulled his hand away. He laughed, the sound a mix of his old self and the new, childlike wonder he had discovered. Karen watched him. "You like the cheese?" she asked, keeping her voice soft and steady. Plankton nodded, his eye sparkling with excitement. "Cheese," he repeated, his voice a comforting echo of hers. He took a bite, his eye widening with joy as the flavors exploded in his mouth. "Cheese," he said again, his voice a little less mechanical, a little more like the Plankton she knew. As they ate together in the quiet restaurant, Karen felt a sense of normalcy return, albeit a tentative one. The rhythm of their conversation was off, but the love between them was still palpable. "Cheese," Plankton said again, his voice filled with child-like delight. Karen smiled sadly, her swelling with both joy and sorrow. After dinner, Karen decided to give Plankton a tour of the restaurant, hoping to reacquaint him with their business. As they moved through the kitchen, Plankton's eye fixated on a frying pan. "Sizzle, sizzle," he murmured, echoing the sound of food cooking. Karen took his hand and led him to the cash register. "This is where we take money," she said, her voice gentle. Plankton nodded, his gaze shifting to the shiny chrome surface. "Money," he repeated, his voice a soft echo. They made their way to the lab, a place Plankton had once ruled with an iron fist. His eye grew wide, his excitement palpable. "Gadgets," he whispered, his voice taking on a sing-song tone. Karen couldn't help but smile. "Yes, honey. You used to make all sorts of gadgets here." He repeated her words, his hands reaching out to touch the cold metal. "Make gadgets," he said, his voice echoing in the small, cluttered space. Karen squeezed his hand. "Not now, Plankton. But maybe, soon," she said, her tone cautiously optimistic. Plankton nodded, his eyes still fixed on the gadgets. "Soon, soon," he echoed.