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𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖳𝖮𝖦𝖤𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖱 𝖻𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌 part 7 Plankton's heart leaps into his throat as the box flies open. Fidget toys spill out everywhere, each one a tiny piece of his vulnerability. "N-no, wait!" he stammers, his hand shooting out to grab the box. But it's too late. Sandy's eyes widen as she sees the collection of stim toys, the suspicion setting in. Sandy looks at him. "Plankton," she says. "You can tell me. What's going on?" "Sandy," Karen starts, her voice calm and measured. "You know Plankton's... uh... unique quirks, right?" She tries to find the right words, but Plankton's mind is racing. He can't bear the thought of being seen as weak or broken, not even by his wife's closest friend. Sandy nods, her gaze still on the fidget toys scattered across the floor. "Yeah," she says slowly. "But what's this all abou–" But Plankton can't handle the scrutiny anymore. His eye starts to twitch again, his body tense with anxiety. "It's nothing," he insists, his voice shaking. "Just some... stuff I... I collected." Sandy looks at him, her eyes filled with confusion and concern. "Plankton," she says gently. "You know you can talk to me." She's seen his quirks before, but never anything like this. Plankton's eye darts around the room, looking for a way out. He feels the familiar panic rising in his chest, his mind racing with thoughts he can't quite articulate. He stammers, trying to find the right words to explain without revealing too much. "It's... it's just... I was... uh... I was just... experimenting with... uh... new... new... new ways to... to... keep my mind... uh... sharp?" Karen watches her husband with a mix of pity and frustration. She knows his fear of being seen as different is overwhelming, but she also knows hiding it won't make it go away. "Plankton," she says gently. "It's okay." Plankton's eye stops twitching as he looks at her. He takes a deep breath, his body visibly relaxing. "I... I don't want to talk about it," he says, his voice low. Sandy looks from Plankton to Karen, then back again. She can sense the tension in the room, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air. "Okay," she says slowly. "But if yo--" Plankton cuts her off. "Sandy, it's nothing," he says, his voice too loud, too forced. "Just... just a little hobby, you know?" He laughs awkwardly, his nervousness palpable. "Some people collect stamps. I just... I just like... uh... tinkering with these... these little things." He tries to wave it off, his hand shaking as he does so. Sandy's expression is a mix of confusion and worry. "But Plankton," she starts, picking up a fidget toy. "Whaa-" "It's fine, Sandy," Plankton interrupts, his voice strained. "It's just...just something I do to... to relax." He grabs the toy from her hand, his movements erratic. "It's not a big de-" But Sandy's eyes are still on the box, curiosity piqued. "But Plankton, why the secrecy?" she presses, her tone gentle but firm. Plankton's face reddens, his eye darting around the room. He stammers, trying to find a suitable explanation. "It's... it's just a... a surprise," he managed to get out, his voice squeaking. "For... for the Chum Bucket. A new... uh... gimmick." He laughs nervously, his hands fidgeting with the toys. Sandy looks at him, her concern clear. "Plankton, if you're going through something, you know you can talk to me." Her voice is gentle, but the question in her eyes is unmistakable. Plankton's heart squeezes in his chest, his mind racing to come up with a plausible explanation. He doesn't want her pity, doesn't want to be seen as weak. "It's... it's nothing," he repeats, his voice shaky. "Just some new... uh... merchandise I've been working on. For the Chum Bucket," he adds quickly. He tries to laugh, but it sounds forced. "You know me, always thinking of new ways to outdo Krabs," he says, trying to redirect the conversation. But Sandy doesn't buy it. "Merchandise?" she asks, her tone skeptical. "These look like... like some sort of therapy toys." Her voice is gentle, but the word hits Plankton like a ton of bricks. He swallows hard, his grip on the fidget toys tightening. Plankton's mind races, trying to come up with a lie that won't unravel. But before he can speak, Chip steps forward. "It's not for the Chum Bucket," Chip says, his voice steady. "They're dad's... uh... special toys." He looks at Plankton, his gaze filled with understanding. "He's special needs," he says, his voice unwavering. "He has... uh..." Plankton's face goes from flustered to furious. "Chip!" he snaps. "That's enough!" But it's too late. Sandy's eyes widen. Sandy looks from Chip to Plankton, her expression a mixture of shock and compassion. "What does he mean, special needs?" she asks, carefully. Plankton's face turns a bright shade of red, his hands shaking with anger. He slams the fidget toys into the box, his voice tight. "It's none of your business, Sandy," he snaps. "It's just a..." Sandy's eyes widen, surprise and concern melding together. "Plankton, what's going on here?" she asks, her voice gentle but firm. "You and Karen can talk to me. You know that." Plankton's breathing quickens, his hands shaking as he fumbles to close the box. "It's nothing," he insists, his voice tight. "Just a... a little... uh... quirky hobby." Sandy's gaze is filled with a blend of shock and concern as she looks at her friend's husband, his usual confidence replaced by a flustered mess. "Plankton," she says, her voice gentle but firm. "You're special needs? What's Chi-" Plankton's anger flares up. "It's none of your concern!" he snaps, his hands shaking as he pushes the box under the bed with more force than necessary. The stims scatter on the floor, each one a painful reminder of his condition. "You just stick to your treedome and let me handle my... uh... quirky habits," he says, his words clipped. Sandy's eyes are wide, taking in the scene before her. She's never seen Plankton like this, so... vulnerable. "But, oh Chip," she starts, her voice soothing. "If you're... uh... dad's going through something, I want to help. Chip, you told me he's special needs. Tell me wh-" "Because," Chip says, "Mom said she doesn't like that I know he's ret-..."

(Confess-A-Bear): “My name is Confess-A-Bear! [cuts to SpongeBob]. “Tell me all your secrets.” (Patrick): “I did something recently I’m not proud of. I didn’t mean to do it, it just sort of happened.” (Confess-A-Bear): “Oh, maybe you should talk about it.” (Patrick): Well, it involves my best friend SpongeBob. I don’t think he knows what happened [cuts to SpongeBob who is listening through headphones] but it would really upset him if he found out.” (Confess-A-Bear): “Tell Confess-A-Bear!” (Patrick): “I’ve said too much already.” (Confess-A-Bear): “Tell Confess-A-Bear now! NOW!” (Patrick): AH! I accidentally knocked SpongeBob's toothbrush into the toilet, and then I put it back on the counter without washing iiiitt... (Confess-a-Bear does not respond) Confess-a-Bear? (SpongeBob is screaming and wiping his tongue off in disgust) [SpongeBob starts screaming and running around in the background, wiping his tongue]. (Patrick): “You’re mad at me, aren’t you Confess-A-Bear?”

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 11 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Chip sniffles. "But what if he gets mad at me again?" he whispers. "He might," Karen admits. "But it's important to remember it's not about you, or what you do wrong." She pauses, her thumb tracing gentle circles on his back. "It's about his brain trying to understand a world that's changed for him." "But how do I know what's too much?" Chip asks, his voice small. "How can I tell what will make him upset?" Karen's eyes searched his. "It's like learning a new dance," she explained. "At first, you'll step on each other's toes, but with time and patience, you'll find the right rhythm." She took a deep breath. "We'll figure it out together. You can ask him, or me, and we'll learn his cues. Like when he needs space, or when he's ok with a gentle touch." Chip nodded, his eyes still brimming with tears. "Ok," he said, his voice shaky. "But I want to hug him again." Karen clenched at his words. "I know," she said. "And when the time is right, you may. But for now, let's find other ways to show him love, without overwhelming his sensitive brain." She stood up, her hand reaching for the doorknob. "Why don't we go back to the living room and check on him?" They walked back to the living room, where Plankton was still sitting in the armchair, his antennae twitching slightly. He looked up as they entered, his eye filled with a mix of shame and defensiveness. Karen could see the turmoil playing across his features, the battle between his love for Chip and his fear of rejection. "Dad?" Chip's voice was tentative, his hand outstretched. "Could I... could we...?" Plankton's eye flickered to his son's outstretched hand, his stomach clenching at the thought of contact. He knew he should want this, should crave the comfort of his son's embrace. But his brain was a cacophony of fear and confusion, his skin a livewire of sensitivity. He swallowed hard, the word sticking in his throat like a bone. "No," he forced out, his voice tight. Chip's hand fell to his side, his shoulders slumping. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice desolate. "I just wan—" "NO!" Plankton's voice was a roar, his antennae quivering with the force of his rejection. The look of hurt on Chip's screen was like a dagger to his heart, but he couldn't stop the words from coming. "I don't want you right now," he spat, the anger a shield for his fear. "I don't like anyone touching me!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his chin trembling. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice barely above the sound of his own breath. "I just want to make you feel better." Plankton's heart twisted, but his fear was too great. "I said NO!" he bellowed, his body shaking with the force of his words. Chip's lower lip quivered as he took a step back, his eyes wide with shock. He had never seen his father this angry, this scared. "But I'm your son," he managed, his voice tiny. "I won't hurt yo-" "I don't care!" Plankton's voice was a snarl. "I just want to be left alone!" His antennae thrashed wildly, a silent testament to his inner chaos. "I don't need you or your stupid games!" The words were like a slap, leaving Chip's face burning. Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his voice shaky. "But you liked playing with me befo—" "I SAID NO!" Plankton's voice was a thunderclap, his eye flashing with a rage that wasn't entirely his own. "I don't want your games, your laughter, your touch!" The words hung in the air. Chip felt his chest tighten, his breath hitch in his throat. He looked at his mother, his screen pleading for help. Karen stepped forward, her heart breaking with each word. "Chip, let's give Dad some space," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She knew his intentions were pure, but his father's brain was a minefield right now, and any misstep could trigger another seizure. But Chip was stubborn, his desire to connect with his dad overriding his fear. "But Mom, he's just mad," he protested. "He co-" "Chip," Karen was firm, but her eyes were filled with sorrow. "It's more than that." She took his hand. "We have to be patient, ok?" They sat on the couch, the distance between them and Plankton palpable. Chip's thoughts raced, trying to understand. Plankton sat in the armchair, his antennae still, his gaze anywhere but on his son. So Chip decided to get one of the fidget toys. "Here," he said, holding it out. "It's ok," he whispered. "It's just a toy." Plankton's eye flickered to the fidget toy, his breathing shallow. He knew he should be grateful, should be happy that his son was trying. But the anger was like a storm, and he couldn't find the calm within. "Get that hand away from me," he snarled, his voice low and menacing. Chip's eyes filled with hurt, his hand dropping to his side. "But Dad," he choked out, his throat tight with unshed tears. "I'm just trying to-" But Plankton's anger was a tidal wave that couldn't be stopped. "You don't get it!" he shouted, his antennae quivering. "You can't just barge in here and expect things to be the same!" He threw one of the toys across the room, the plastic smacking against the wall. "You don't get to decide how I feel!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his heart racing. "But Dad, I just want to help," he whispered. "I don't understand." He retrieved the toy. Plankton's eye darted to the fidget toy, his antennae quivering. "Don't," he murmured, his voice sharp. "I don't want it." The word was like a slap to Chip, his hand dropping to his side. He looked at his mother, his eyes pleading for guidance. "Let me," she said, her voice a gentle whisper. She approached Plankton slowly, her movements deliberate. "Here," she said, her voice soothing. "This might help calm you down." Plankton's eye darted to the fidget toy, his antennae twitching. For a moment, he was torn between anger and desire, his hand reaching out to grab it before his brain could change its mind. His grip was firm, his breath hitching as his thumb traced the smooth patterns. Chip watched, his heart racing. "Is it ok now?" he asked, his voice tentative. "Can I sit with you?" Plankton's antennae stilled, his breaths coming in measured paces as he worked the fidget toy. He didn't look up, his eye still on the floor. "Dad?" Chip's voice was tentative, his question hanging in the air like a delicate thread. "Can we talk now?" Plankton's eye remained fixed on the fidget toy, his thumb still tracing the patterns compulsively. His jaw was tight, his antennae slightly less erratic. "What's to talk about," he murmured, his voice still thick with the anger that hadn't completely dissipated. Chip took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know," he said, his voice honest. "I just want to kno—" "You want to know what?" Plankton's voice was cold, his eye flicking up to meet Chip's. "What happened to me? What's wrong with me?" The words were a challenge, a sharp-edged question that hung in the air. Chip's gaze dropped to the carpet, his throat tight. "I just want to understand," he whispered. "Why you're so mentally di-" He didn't get to finish the sentence. Plankton's antennae snapped up, his voice a whip. "Don't," he said, the word sharp as a knife. "Don't say another word." Chip felt his stomach churn, his palms sweaty. "Dad, I didn't mean to upset you," Chip tried again, his voice shaking. "I just know at my school, how my classmates would whispered to me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't wan-" "I said don't!" Plankton's voice was a whip. His antennae were still, his body coiled tightly in the chair. "Don't you dare make me into some kind of charity case!" His eye blazed with a fierce protectiveness that took even Karen by surprise. Chip flinched, his own eyes filling with tears. "But Dad," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You weren't a burden bef-" "ENOUGH!" The room was silent, save for the sound of Plankton's rapid breathing. His antennae twitched as he clutched the fidget toy like a lifeline. "I NEVER want to be a burden!" he shouted, his voice echoing around the room. The anger was a storm raging within him, his fear of being seen as weak or less than overwhelming. Karen stepped forward, her eyes filled with a mix of pity and determination. "Chip," she whispered. "Let's give him some space." But Chip's resolve was unshakable, his eyes locked on his father. "But what if 'the burden' never gets..." Plankton's antennae shot up. "What did you call me?" His voice was a hiss, his body taut with tension. Chip took a step back, his throat tight. "I didn't mean it like that," he stuttered. "It's just what they say at school." But Plankton was lost in a whirlwind of emotion. "Get out!" he roared, his antennae flailing. "Get out of my face!" Chip's eyes filled with tears as he took a step back, the rejection a heavy weight on his shoulders. He didn't understand why his father was so angry with him, so he turned to his mother, his voice shaking. "Mom, I didn't mean to-" But Karen knew Plankton's anger was a defense mechanism, a way for his brain to cope with the fear and confusion of his new reality. She stepped closer to him, her voice soft and calm. "It's ok, Plankton," she soothed. "We're here for you. Chip didn't mea-" "DON'T!" Plankton's voice was a bark, his antennae snapping in agitation. "Don't you dare defend him." His eye was wild, his body trembling. Karen's eyes never left his, her voice a gentle stream of reassurance. "You're not a burden, Plankton," she said, her words a soft whisper. "We love you, just as you are." She took another step, closing the gap between them. "We're in this together."