𝖬𝖸 𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖳𝖨𝖢 𝖣𝖠𝖣 Pt. 9 by NeuroFabulous Plankton's eye darted between Chip and Karen, his antennae twitching. He wanted to say it, but the words felt stuck in his throat. "I," he managed, his voice strained. "I-I-I-I…" Karen reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Plankton," she said softly. "You don't have to say anyth—" But Plankton's stutters grew more intense. "I...I...I," he repeated, his face twisting. Chip's heart sank. He didn't know what's happening. "Dad, are you okay?" Chip asked, his voice filled with worry. Karen watched him, her heart sinking. This wasn't just a moment of some difficulty speaking; this was a full-blown seizure. "Plankton, breathe," she said, her voice calm and steady. "You don't have to force it." But Plankton's stutter only grew more intense, his body convulsing with the effort. "I...I...I-" Karen sighed. She knew stress can cause mini seizures, like this one. "Chip," she said gently. "It's okay. He's experiencing one of his seizures. Nothing alarming; we just wait it out. But sometimes it can help if you talk." Chip looked up at his mom, his eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. He didn't know what to say or do, but he didn't want to leave his dad alone. "Dad," he whispered, his voice shaking. "You don't have to say it now." Plankton's stuttering continued, his antennae twitching rapidly. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I," his voice grew louder, each syllable a desperate cry for release. Karen's hand tightened on his shoulder. "You're okay," she said soothingly. "Just br-" But Plankton's stuttering grew louder, his body tensing. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I," he repeated. Chip watched in horror as his dad's seizure grew worse. His mind raced, trying to remember what his mom said to do. He took a deep breath, his hands shaking. "Dad," he called out, his voice small and scared. "I'm here. You don't have to say it. I know you love me." The stuttering grew more intense, Plankton's eye closed tightly as he tried to fight through the seizure. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I," his voice echoed through the room. Karen's voice remained calm, her hand firmly on Plankton's shoulder. "Just breathe, honey," she coaxed. "Breathe and let it pass." But the words didn't seem to reach him, lost in his own loop of panic. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I," his voice grew more desperate, each syllable a battle. Karen's eyes filled with tears as she watched both husband and son. She knew Plankton was trying to express his love, but his brain was trapped in a cycle it couldn't break. "It's okay," she whispered. "Just breathe." Chip's voice grew desperate. "Dad, please," he begged, his eyes brimming with tears. Plankton's body shuddered, the stutters growing more intense. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I," his voice a tortured plea. Karen's heart broke seeing her husband in such distress. "Plankton, sweetie, just breathe," she said, her voice soothing. "We're here. We love you." Chip watched, his own throat tight with unshed tears. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "You don't have to say i---" But Plankton's stuttering interrupted him, growing more intense with each syllable. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I," his voice was a crescendo of pain and frustration. Karen's eyes never left his, her voice a gentle reminder. "Just breathe, Plankton," she cooed. "Let it pass." But Plankton was in his own world, his thoughts racing faster than he could speak. His body jerked with each failed attempt. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I," his voice was strained, desperate. Karen's eyes searched for any sign that he was hearing them, that he knew they were there. But his gaze remained fixed on nothingness. Chip watched his dad, his small hand hovering over Plankton's arm, unsure if his touch would help or make things worse. "It's okay," he said, his voice trembling. "I know you love me." Plankton's stuttering finally stopped, his body going slack. Karen's hand remained on his shoulder, her eyes never leaving his. "It's okay," she said again, her voice calm and reassuring. Chip looked up at her, his eyes wide with fear. "Is he okay?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen nodded, her expression filled with relief. "Yes, he's okay," she said, her hand still on Plankton's shoulder. "The worst has passed." Chip let out a shaky breath, his hand finally touching his dad's arm. "Dad?" he asked, his voice quiet. Plankton's eye fluttered open, and he took a deep, shuddering breath. His antennas had stopped twitching, and he looked drained. "Dad?" Chip asked again, his voice trembling. Plankton turned his gaze to his son. His expression was weary, but his eye was filled with love. He reached out a hand, gently brushing against Chip's arm. It was a way of saying 'thank you' without the words. Chip looked at him, his eyes filled with relief and love. He understood that his dad had just gone through something painful and scary, and his heart went out to his father. "It's okay," he whispered, taking his father's hand. "You're okay now." Plankton squeezed his hand weakly, his breathing still erratic. Karen reached over, her hand covering both of theirs. "It's okay," she said, her voice steady. "We're all right here."