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Plankton was at his wits end.
He'd been working on the same machine for weeks now and no matter what he did the thing remained unstable and unpredictable. He'd been elbows deep in the contraption since 6am and he'd gotten absolutely nowhere. Rewiring was fruitless, adjusting code went no where, and attempting to jump start it only caused it to sizzle and groan in a concerning manner.
By the time the clock had struck 6pm the only noticeable difference was an unpleasant straining noise. A sort of loud grinding which was becoming progressively more loud and uneasy as minutes passed.
"Fucking hell"
Plankton set his lips into a thin grimaced line and strode towards the machine, half haphazardly grabbing the engine panel and prying it open unceremoniously. The surface was hot to the touch and he let out a hiss as the heat seeped through his gloves and into his skin.
The groaning of the engine rose to a peak, the straining now painfully loud and rowdy.
Plankton's face dulled as he gave the engine one last scan.
The pressurization was off.
"The pressure oh my God the pressure, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-" he mumbled through lips that couldn't quite keep up.
The world slowed down. A flash of fire and expulsion of shrapnel dancing before his eyes. Various vials and explosives igniting on impact.
There was not a chance for reaction. Only a brief tensing of muscles and the raising of hands.
The scream left him instinctively. The lacerations and shrapnel were processed long after. He grit his teeth and squeezed his eye tightly shut, taking in uneven frantic breaths whilst writhing on the floor.
He fucked up.
Somewhere along the line human error occurred. Somewhere along the line he'd missed something. Somewhere along the line he'd overlooked what he was sure he'd observed.
The room was hot, his skin felt flayed, his ears rang shrilly, and a sharp piercing pain stabbed through his eye like a knife. Plankton curled in on himself further, immediately regretting the action as his torso screamed out in agony. He gasped for air, his mind a haze of terror and adrenaline. He didn't want to die, not like this at least. Not in a flurry of regret and failure. If he went out by his own hand he wanted intent. He wanted control. He wanted finality.
Plankton was granted no such gifts.
Slowly he pressed himself back into an upright decision and pressed his back against the wall, grimacing in anguish as glass further embedded itself in his hands from the force. The action in turn leaving his gasping for air in the smoke filled room.
He could feel the blood welling up and soaking his shirt and he squeezed his eye shut further. He didn't want to look. He pressed his hands against his stomach and whined pitifully. He really didn't want to die. Not like this.
But he'd survived worse, he thought, he'd dragged himself back battered and bruised before he could do it again.
He needed to check the damage. He needed to find help. He needed out.
'There! a plan.' he thought, an trace of his usual smugness penetrating the fog in his mind. If only for a moment.
He breathed in and with reluctance opened his eyes and pried back his hands.
The world became no clearer.
Plankton blinked. He blinked again. His hands flew up and pried with desperation and mind numbing panic, prying at his eyelids and digging into the gash above his eye. But the world stayed dark. The world stayed blurred. Blood from irritated wound gushed past his eyebrow and mingled with his fractured vision. His hand fell away slowly, lingering about his face in reluctance as the realization settled on his shoulders with dread.
He couldn't see.
He stared forward. His heart hammering in his chest and his hands hovering in front of him. As he attempted with desperation to make out any solid figure.
Plankton blinked once more and winced as the glass scraped further against his retina.
He couldn't see.
The coffee machine chimed gleefully; the pot beneath it swirling and spreading its bitter aroma throughout the kitchen.
Karen arose leisurely, and made her way from her spot in the living room to the kitchen counter top. The day had been lazy that was for sure. Plankton had barricaded himself in the lab long before she'd properly powered on and showed no signs of coming back out any time soon. She couldn't say it wasn't peaceful, but there was a part of her that wished he'd spend some of his free time with her. She batted away the thought with a small laugh.
What was she thinking, he was a headache waiting to happen.
Regardless her hands instinctively reached for his mug. She paused momentarily before shrugging and completing the action. He'd been awake for this long, she might as well make him a cup before he had the chance to infect the entire pot with his preferred amount of sugar and cream. His sweet tooth truly baffled her.
She'd already made his cup and had moved onto hers when the explosion sounded. The sound of it reverberated through the chum bucket's tinny walls, causing the dingy LEDs above her to sway.
"Gah!" she exclaimed, whilst holding down the two coffee mugs in an attempt to prevent the liquid inside from spilling.
She huffed indignantly. Loud bangs and the faint smell of smoke was in no way uncommon, if anything it was a weekly occurrence, so whatever fleeting concept of concern she had was quickly dispelled. She was going to drop off his coffee soon anyway, she'd check on him then.
Then again…
She shook the thought off. He'd be fine.
In fact it was only a few minutes later that the sound of footsteps reverberated against the stairway.
There he was, ready to come up and complain. Made her job easier, now she wouldn't have to leave to make the trek down to the lab.
"Took you long enough!" she shouted gathering the two mugs in her hands.
"Y'know you're allowed to come out from your hole every once in a while, If I didn't know any better I'd think you'd died down the-"
Karen froze, she wasn't really sure what else to do. Her mind felt numb with shock and adrenaline as her hands flew up towards her mouth at the sight of him. Glass shattering as the mugs collided with the floor.
Blood oozed down his front, from the various pieces of shrapnel lodged in his stomach. She wanted to do anything, rush to him, call someone, yell at him, do anything but her feet felt nailed to the floor. She simply watched as he swayed in the doorframe, one arm propped up in an attempt to help keep him upright, and the other clutching the bloodied fabric around his midsection in a white knuckled grasp. His eye looked distant and unfocused, his face gray and clammy. His knees shook beneath him as he struggled to bear his own weight.
He looked undead.
He perked upright at the sound of the glass.
"Karen?"
He sounded uncertain, as if he was casting her name out in hopes of reeling her in. She frowned taking in his shaking frame and lost expression.
His knees gave out and, finally finding her footing, Karen rushed forwards, grabbing him roughly under the armpits like a doll.
He gasped roughly at the contact and stiffened briefly in her grasp.
"Karen!?" he asked again, this time seeming more desperate as he pried his hand away from his stomach to feel for her face.
She was panicking herself now. Why was he so lost, why the hell wasn't he focusing, she was right in front of him dammit.
"Y-Yeah honey it's me" She choked out "I got you ok? I'm gonna set you down on the couch alright?"
"Karen- It happened again I messed up, I messed up bad-" he trailed off into incomprehensible desperate muttering as she set him down gently in his arm chair.
"I know honey, it's okay" she assured, hoping she sounded more reassuring than she felt. "I'm going to call someone right now okay this has happened before just like you said, we can get you out of it."
He shook his head frantically.
"No no no no no no no Karen please you're not listening-"
Karen sighed into the phone as she dialed for an ambulance. God, he was incoherent.
"Sheldon sweetie, you're going to need to be more specific than that then" she hushed, scavenging for anything she could find in the surrounding area that could potentially stop the bleeding.
The dial tone rang for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes landed on her most recent crochet project that she'd left laid out on the couch.
'911 what's your emergency?'
Plankton yelped and writhed again as she pressed the weaved yarn down against his stomach. Fuck she was just forcing the shrapnel further down into his flesh. fuck fuck fuck fuck.
"Hello uh, this is Karen Plankton-" she managed to force out.
'oh yes hello there Mrs Plankton… what seems to be the problem' the operator droned as recognition seemingly set in. Karen seethed.
Plankton continued to whine and ramble, clutching at his stomach as if he was holding his own organs in. She stood up and paced.
"Yes um it's my husband he's injured himself somehow and uh-" she paused momentarily to quickly try and gauge the severity of his injuries. Lacerations, impalement, a few gashes. She tried to regulate her breathing, he'd survived worse, as long as she could stop the bleeding he'd be fine.
"he's-" her voice cut off as she viewed his face. The left side of his face looked like a massacre. Blood leaked slowly from various cuts and gashes above his brow bone and along his cheek. Drying and sticking to his hair and skin. She nearly breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps the gore was an illusion composed of cuts and bruises. She swallowed thickly. Then she saw it.
'Hello?…. Mr's Plankton?-' the operator cut off as the phone fell from her grasp.
His remaining eye was a bloodbath. Two decently sized shards of glass fracturing it in half and firmly embedding themselves within it. The remaining visible sclera irritated and red. She averted her eyes quickly in what she was ashamed to admit was disgust.
The room was awfully quiet apart from Plankton's occasional gasps for air.
"Sheldon.." Karen finally forced out "Sweetie can you see me right now."
He shook his head, slowly at first then progressively faster, more hysterically. His hands rose from their place at his stomach and began to claw at his face, at his hair, and at his neck. His breathing was fast and uneven and she fought to catch a glimpse of his face through his disheveled hair. With practiced experience she grasped both of his wrists and held them steady.
"Sheldon."
He stilled.
"Sheldon. Can you see me?"
"No."
She sucked in a sharp breath through gritted teeth.
"I can't see. I can't see anything at all." he mumbled, his voice teetering between numb and manic.
He shook his head once again before holding his hands out in front of him and moving them about. As if holding them close enough would let them become visible. He shook his head once more, a renewed hysteria to his actions.
"It happened again, I- I wasn't careful enough, I didn't take enough precautions, It fucking happened again how could I let that happen, how could I be stupid enough to let it happen again. I-I don't want to be blind Karen, I don't want to be useless-"
She gasped slightly at the sudden self deprecation but couldn't think of anything to say. Anything to interrupt his descent. She watched instead as he continued to rant inconsolably.
"I don't want to be a burden Karen I don't I really don't"
The air was so thick you could cut it, the faint beeping of the landline harmonizing with the distant wails of the ambulance.
Karen pursed her lips in thought, he looked so defeated. So distinctly lost. Carefully she knelt down in front of him and placed a hand along his cheek, careful to avoid the glass.
"You won't be."
He shook his head faintly.