Touch, touch
I remember touch
Touch, touch
I remember touch
Where do I belong?
Touch, I need something more
I remember touch
I need something more in my mind.
It's the same nightmare each time.
He's struggling to breathe, but that's the least of his worries. The hand reaching through his chest and gripping his racing heart was all he could focus on. With each struggling heartbeat the hand gripped tighter and tighter. With his energy rapidly fading, he used what little strength he had to use his hands to push theirs away, but it didn't move the slightest bit.
His eyes frantically looked around for someone, anyone, to help. They weren't alone, but the crowd around them was a sea of indistinguishable featureless grey blobs, each as unmemorable as the last. And while he couldn't make out a single face, a feeling in his gut told him they were all smiling, especially the large one that loomed over him.
With one swift pull, the hand in his chest was gone, taking his heart with him and leaving a gapping, bloody hole behind that his body struggled to regenerate and heal.
Unable to move, he looked up at his dripping heart in the hand of the one that snatched it from him, still beating just as it did in his chest. It's his it's his it's his! And he wanted it back more than he ever wanted anything, but no matter how hard he tried to scream for it, the only sound that came from him was wet gurgling out of the hole in his chest.
His body felt impossibly heavy, as no matter how much he willed it, he couldn't move so much as a finger. All he could do was watch as his heart was torn in half.
He wished he could scream.
It wasn't in his chest, but he still felt the deep excruciated pain of his heart being torn radiating through his body.
Why couldn't he ever wake up now? Why did it have to keep going?
The two halves of heart were passed to others, still bleeding, still beating, and those were torn into 4.
Then 4 to 8.
8 to 16.
On and on and on as each piece was passed about until there was nothing left behind but their stained hands—
On nights like these, SpongeBob always woke up in a cold sweat and trembling. Over his pajamas he clenched his chest to make sure his heart was still where it belonged. It raced hard enough that he was sure he'd be able to see the shape of it through his skin.
He looked at the clock. 1:43 AM. Not too bad if he can get back to sleep fast enough. Insomnia ran in his family, and until now, SpongeBob was lucky it was something he dealt with once in a blue moon. Nowadays, that wasn't the case with these nightmares waking him up in the middle of the night.
He hopped out of bed; all that tossing and turning left him need a glass of water. Or two. Or maybe warm milk, that always helped. Halfway to his bedroom door, he decided to change his now sweat sheets.
Maybe he should take up cousin Kathrines offer to get him something that'll help him sleep better. Her insomnia was the worst in the family, and she had all kinds of remedies.
'I got something that'll knock you out so good you won't dream and you'll wake up asking what year is it,' she said over the phone. 'It's so good it even works on me.'
SpongeBob was hesitant at first, but it couldn't hurt to try, right? Especially if these nightmares keep up.
One tall glass of warm milk down, and he returned to his bedroom with fresh sheets.
Darn nightmares, waking him with his nerves frazzled nearly every night. Did his brain have to remind him about what happened? It was done and over with, he didn't need a nightly reminder of how much it hurt the day everyone returned.
"At least they don't happen twice a night," he said with a yawn. Pulling the dirty sheets off his bed, he quickly replaced them. "Now all I need is a blanket."
Speaking of which, he looked around his room until he spotted a rather large gift bag, blue with pink bubbles printed on it. From his cousin Moe. After cooking up a massive batch of food for her, she sent this to him as a gift. A weighted blanket, all the way from the Porforian Kingdom. SpongeBob was thankful, truly, but he hoped she didn't give it to him because she felt like she had to.
Then again, getting anything from there costs a pretty penny, and what a shame it would be not to use it. . .
He tried lifting it out the bag, and quickly found that this was one of the heavier weighted blankets. Instead, he tore the bag. A card he hadn't noticed before fell out.
'Hey, cuz. Thought you could use this. It's heated, too, and feels like a hug. Enjoy! P.S., Your food is great! -Moe'
"Like a hug?"
That sounded nice.
Hugs are hard to come by these days.
Good hugs.
SpongeBob draped the blanket over his bed after plugging it in, and turned the heating on its lowest setting to be safe. He gave it a minute to warm up before crawling under the blankets. As soon as its warmth encompassed him, SpongeBob practically melted. The weight of the blanket working with the heat worked together almost too well. His nightmare felt like a distant memory as he was lulled into a restful slumber.
While a lot of things have been changing lately, one that that didn't was the eachoing of a foghorn alarm clock blaring from the pineapple house of Conch Street.
SpongeBob reached over and turned it over, but didn't jump out of bed. Not yet. This weighted blanket was a miracle, and he didn't want to leave the cocoon he wrapped himself in. That was the best sleep he had in a long time, why not sleep some more?
. . .
Because there were things he needed to do.
. . .
If this blanket didn't need to be plugged in and wasn't so heavy, he'd bring it with him. Like a hug, indeed. He stretched under the blanket before pushing it off. At least he has this to look forward to tonight.
The suns out and shining, the weathers still warm as fall got closer and closer. No rain, not a cloud in the sky, only a light breeze at most. By all accounts, its going to be a good day, except. . .
Except. . .
SpongeBob decided not to think about that, not yet. He'll deal with that when the time comes. In the meantime, he wanted to make the most of his morning before he had to leave his house.
And a good morning started with a nice hot shower!
It's strange, walking into a room he knew every inch of and seeing it look completely different. He barely changed it from when he first moved in, only adding little trinkets here and there with no other unifying theme other than 'I like it' to pull it all together. Now everything was new. Walls, floor, appliances, dishes and cookware, even the pantry he was working on. It was a completely different kitchen, and it was perfect.
Perfect for cooking.
Anything coming out of his kitchen was going to be made from scratch. No room for frozen and instant meals in here, no siree! The only way he was going hone his cooking skills is with lots and lots of practice.
Too bad none of that'll be happening today. Or tomorrow. Of the rest of the week. In the midst of a cooking frenzy after reading Cooking 101, SpongeBob didn't realize how much he was making, and before he knew it, his fridge was filled to the max with leftovers. No matter how he rearranged it, there wasn't so much as an inch of space to spare.
Looks like it's leftovers for breakfast.
But first things first.
"Gary, breakfast!"
Next to his own fridge was a mini fridge covered in fruit and veggie magnets. He pulled out one of many containers filled with homemade snail food he made ahead of time. None of the mass produced, over-processed canned or dried food made with fillers and barely any nutritional value. He had to made sure what he was feeding Gary covered all the needs of a snail, right down to the last micronutrients.
SpongeBob didn't love the snail anymore, but Gary is still his responsibility, and it's his duty to take care of him and keep him healthy. He didn't have his heart to lead him like before, so he stuck to the books he read, and everything the vet recommended.
He added a couple drops of supplemental oils to prevent slime duct blockage and promote eye stalk strength, topped it off with a couple pieces of fruit as a treat, but not any that had too much sugar, and it was done. He placed the bowl in it's own spot next to the new water fountain near the back door.
Now for his own breakfast.
"Is it okay to eat pasta this early? I made it with wine so probably not. Maybe the beef stroganoff?" he asked, searching through the fridge. "That's lunch food, at least. . .Oh, I know!"
He searched around his fridge until he found a container lighter than the rest.
"I made a quiche," he laughed. "That'll be good for breakfast, and I bet that hollandaise sause I mixed up will make it taste even better!" As that warmed up in the microwave, he stepped out into his backyard and into his greenhouse.
Everything came in nicely. The basil, chervil, oregano, thyme, rosemary, all the herbs were starting to overflow from their respective pots. The mint came in so fast SpongeBob had to cut down and ended up burning it to make sure it didn't get onto the grass outside and take over his and the neighbor's backyard. It had him questioning if mint should be the one herb he didn't grow. The only thing taking its sweet time to grow was the star anise, but that was to be expected.
"Maybe I should water them less."
What's the worst that could happen? If they all died it wouldn't take long to grow more, and he had more than enough drying in his kitchen to use until then.
But there was the family dinner coming up in a few weeks. It was the guys turn to cook while the ladies relaxed. SpongeBob told grandma he was learning to cook new things, work spread through the whole family, and now he as the one in charge of figuring out what they were eating and leading the kitchen in making it all happen.
And that wasn't a problem; he was excited to do it! Tones of dishes and deserts he got to plan for and a large audience to try it out, the day couldn't get here fast enough. All that cooking called for a lot of seasoning,and he had it in abundance.
"I'll dry them later," SpongeBob decided. "Can't be too prepared!" He gave the herbs their usual amount of water and head back into the kitchen. Seeing Gary's food bowl empty, he dropped it in the sink and grabbed his own food.
The hollandaise sauce was a great choice!
Soon enough, it was time to go.
He made sure Gary's water fountain was full.
. . .
Most of the lights were off.
, , ,
Both fridges were closed.
. . .
. . .
The greenhouse was locked up.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Doubled checked if his new blanket was unplugged.
. . .
. . .
. . .
Standing at his front door, each time SpongeBob reached
Everything was all set.
. . .
It's so hard to leave his house these days. One would think there was a monster out there to get him, but no. It's only people.
They only tolerated him, that's fine.
They didn't want to be around him, that's fine.
It's a fact of life that other sea creatures didn't like Sponges, no use try to prove otherwise. He wasted most of his life thinking he proved otherwise.
He didn't want to be around them either.
Being around them made his skin crawl. Love was such an integral part of his species, not feeling it when he looked at the people of Bikini Bottom felt eerie, strange, and unnatural in a way that made his brain itch. There wasn't much he couldn't get used to, but this pushed him way past his limits at times.
But he had to go out there. He had to go to work, go to boating school, run errands, and all that stuff.
"It'll be okay," SpongeBob told himself. "I did it before, I can do it again."
He took a deep breath to brace himself, and opened the front door.
After well over a million tries, there were moments like these where SpongeBob wondered if it was still worth trying. Most people would have given up by now and accepted that taking the bus was how they were going to get around, but not him. He couldn't think like that!
He had to try harder this time. It wasn't only about getting that little piece of plastic with his face on it now. Walking was fine (minus the people he had to walk past) and he always had his unicycle, but a boat mobile meant he didn't have to be around other people when going from one place to another, and he won't have to fight to urge to scratch his brain out.
That was too good of a thing to give up on getting his license now.
Until then, the only time he'll be in the drivers seat is with someone in the passenger's seat, too close to him.
By some miracle, SpongeBob managed to not to destroy the boating school, the driving course, and the boat itself. There were days where one of those were left intact, but there was always some sort of damage left in his wake. Today, however, as the boat came to a gentle stop and nothing was left in ruins, he heard the words he dreamed of hearing.
". . . .You passed."
"I did?"
He watched as Mrs. Puff looked back and forth between the driving course and the clipboard in her fins, making sure she was seeing things right. Once she was sure her eyes didn't need to be checked, she took off her helmet.
"You did. I can't believe it myself, but you somehow managed to pass. Took you long enough," Mrs. Puff said with an eyeroll. She handed him the laminated card. "Here's your license. How does it feel?"
How does it feel?
He's been trying to get this thing for over a decade, and now it's in his hands, his own picture smiling back at him.
This should make him happy.
But she's too close to him. She's been too close for too long and that itch started to come back.
"It feels okay. Thank you Mrs. Puff," he said, pocketing the card. "I have to go."
He turned off the boat and nearly scrambled to get out. His test was the only one that morning, so he didn't have to get through a crowd of students waiting their turn.
The moment SpongeBob stepped out of the school, a smile wide enough to hurt grew on his face.
"I got my license!"
The routine that came with working at the Krusty Krab helped things feel a tiny bit normal. The daily tasks of double checking the stock of food, getting the kitchen, and keeping the place clean was simple enough that SpongeBob could do with both eyes closed and hand tied behind his back.
Each lunch rush was practically the same. Each day of the week came with their own set of regulars that picked from 2 or 3 of the same meals, as well as other customers who came in more sporadically. Working here this long, it's hard for SpongeBob not to notice these things. One glance out of the kitchen window to see who was next in line, and he already had a clue of what ingredients he should be reaching for.
SpongeBob opened a window; its starting to get hot in here.
The monotony of it left him with plenty of time for his thoughts to wander.
Maybe it was because he was learning to cook more things, maybe it was those flowers he coughed, or both, but had to ask, did these customers ever get tired of eating Krabby Patties? They were good, no one can deny that, but eating and smelling the same food every day or week, they had to refresh their palette at some point, right?
He's already reached that point, kind of.
He didn't gag at the sight or smell of a well-prepared Krabby Patty, but the idea of eating one was less appealing than eating his own food. He wasn't missing anything; he knew exactly how each item on the menu tasted.
As he put the finishing touching on an order, his hands started to tremble. After putting the order in the window, he stepped back from the grill.
"Not now, he whispered. A pricky sensation crept through his fingers, like an urchin fighting its way out of his skin. "Not until after the lunch rush, please. . ."
SpongeBob gripped his spatula tighter. Maybe it won't get any worse, maybe he can work through it this time. . .
Touch starvation didn't cross his mind until well after the flowers were removed from his lungs. It was nothing SpongeBob, or most other Sponges for that matter, had to be concerned about. What with all the hugs and high fives, pats on the back and understanding hands on shoulders he used to give out, it all worked to make touch starvation a non-issue.
Now, with the idea of anyone who wasn't family touching him being more repulsive than a patty lost under the grill, it was front and center. It wasn't deadly, not in the slightest, but it sure felt like it in its worst moments.
Despite trying his hardest, his spatula slipped out his shaking hands. Instead of picking it up, SpongeBob wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed. He squeezed as hard as he could to get this feeling out of him. The prickling under his skin, his racing heartbeat that echoed in his ears so loud that the commotion in the dining area faded away, and why was it getting so dark?
The breeze coming in from the window did nothing to stop the burning the sensation rising from his tummy and spreading through his body like a raging forest fire. He's willing to bet that the heat coming from the grill was much cooler than the heating coming from inside him. The tears rolling down his face as he squeeze his eyes shut did nothing to cool him down. Thank Neptune Sponge teeth were so durable; he clenched his so hard that others teeth would have cracked and shattered by now.
He needed to run, as fast as he could, to the outskirts of town to his family. They can squeeze this nasty feeling out of him with one of their hugs and keep the touch starvation away. But his legs gave out in one step and he dropped to the floor.
'It'll end.'
. . .
'Please end fast.'
. . .
. . .
'It hurts so much.'
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Something, someone, touched his shoulder. With his arms still tightly wrapped around his body, he kicked, trying to get away from whoever touched him, because no one here can touch him, not his boss, not his coworker, not any of their customers, no one, no one, no one! But no matter how much he tried moving away, someone gripped his shoulders and shook him until his eyes shot wide open.
"SpongeBob!"
The Sponge looked up, and through watery eyes saw his boss and coworker looking down at him. Why are they here? They have their own jobs to do.
"Stop touching me!" He tried shouting, but it came out a hoarse whisper. "You're too close to me."
The two of them took a few steps back into that range he can tolerate people around him, but it wasn't enough. The prickling, heart pounding, burning feeling slowly faded, but it's still to intense for him to ignore.
"I need a break, I need a break. . .!" SpongeBob unraveled his arms from around himself and barely managed to run on shaky legs and he bolted out the back door. Outside and alone, he leaned against the Krusty Krab and wrapped his arms around himself again, this time in a gentler self-hug.
He really wished he brought that blanket with him.
It's normally not this bad. A sudden case of the jitters, feeling like he ran a marathon out of nowhere, that's what he's come to expect, and all he needed was a few minutes for it to pass. This time, it felt like he did in those horrible nightmares of his.
. . .
That blanket would be amazing right now.
. . .
. . .
While back home, too.
. . .
. . .
. . .
SpongeBob didn't know how long he was out back when the door opened. The footstep sounds was enough to know it's his boss without opening his eyes. Probably to yell at him for leaving when they had a long line of customers.
"You okay there, Lad?" Mr. Krabs asked. "You, uh, gave us quite the scare back there."
"M'fine."
"Are ye sure? If you aren't feeling too good, you can take the rest of the off."
"I'm fine, Mr. Krabs." He wiped the last of his tears and slowly stood on his shaky legs. He wasn't 100% back to normal, but he can trudge through the rest of his shift like this. "I have to get back to work."
"SPONGEBOB!"
Oh, what did he do to upset Squidward this time?
All he did was step out of the kitchen to wipe down a few nasty looking table once most of the customers were gone. Whatever it was, it sounded important with how loud the cashier screamed attention. Better go take care of that before Krabs got involved.
SpongeBob expected to find another mess a customer made, or maybe someone with an obscenely large order Squidward didn't want to bother trying to write down. Instead, standing in front of the cashier boat were his two favorite cousins, Stanley and BlackJack. The smaller of the two was the cause of Squidwards yelling, having pulled the cephalopod down to eye level with a one-handed grip on his nose while standing on the register.
"These two say they know you, now get this one to let me go!" Squidward tried pulling his nose out of BlackJack's grasp, to no avail.
"'Sup, cuz," Blackjack said, tightening his grip.
"Hi, BlackJack and Stanley. What are you two doing here?"
"We came to visit, is that a crime?"
"We brought lunch!" Stanley held up a large brown paper bag. Whatever was inside smelled good.
"Is this one of those guys that gave you that weird flower disease?" Asked BlackJack.
"Yep, he's one of them," said SpongeBob. "Let him go, please. He's not worth you going back to prison for."
"You're lucky he doesn't want me to hurt you, 'cause I'd rip your nose clean off if he didn't ask to let you go," BlackJack told Squidward, looking directly into his eyes. In one swift motion, the small Sponge yanked his nose, slamming Squidwards face against the register and leaving him a heap inside the boat.
The three Sponges went into the kitchen, out of the frightened and somewhat curious eyes of the few customers that remained. As soon as the door shut, SpongeBob was enveloped in a long overdue and so very, very welcome and needed hug that slowly worked away at the last of his shaky nerves from what happened earlier.
SpongeBob loved his whole family, but with the massive number of cousins there were, it's only natural that everyone broke off into their own groups they were the closest to. In this case, it was him, the youngest, Stanley in the middle and slightly older, and BlackJack the eldest, ever since they were little. The three of them were an inseparable trio growing up, despite SpongeBob and Stanley being dorky and weak, and catastrophically clumsy in Stanley's case, and BlackJack not knowing his own strength at times.
"How have you been feeling?" Stanley asked. "Holding up okay?"
SpongeBob answered by holding his cousins tighter. He knew he had to let go at some point, but not right now. This is the safest and most relaxed he's felt today since stepped out of his home. If it can't last forever, then please let it last just a little while longer, because he's pretty sure he'll fall apart as soon as they let go.
"You're crying, what's the matter?"
"Lemme guess, the touch starvation is getting to you" BlackJack guessed. SpongeBob nodded. "S'alright. Hug it out for long as you need to."
His family is the best.
Once the last bit of the jitters were hugged out of him, SpongeBob joined his cousins for lunch. There weren't any customers for a while after the lunch rush, leaving the three of them to talk without him worrying they'd be interrupted.
Stanley and BlackJack bought burritos, six of them, all with different fixings, but neither of them were picky, so whatever they picked was a fun surprise.
"As long as I'm not around other people, I feel fine. Besides the touch starvation," SpongeBob said between bites. "It was never as bad as it was today."
"Maybe that's a sign you should visit the family more," said BlackJack. "Or move closer."
"It's not that I don't want to visit, but it takes so long to get from the farm from here," he said. "But now that I've got my license, I can get a car, then I'll be able to-"
"You got your license?!" Stanley gasped, jumping out of his seat. "When?!"
"This morning." SpongeBob proudly held out the little plastic card for his cousins to see.
"Well I'll be damned. Congrats!" BlackJack laughed. "It's about time you two knuckleheads learned how to drive."
"You got your license, too, Stanley?"
"Uh-huh! A couple weeks ago." Stanley held out his own drivers license. "I've been on a good luck streak, and haven't broken or destroyed anything in a month, so I figured I'd get mine."
"Our trips gonna be a lot easier now that all three of us can drive.
Ever since SpongeBob got out of the hospital, the three of them went back and forth about that guys trip BlackJack came up with. They had a mix of long phone calls and text messages about where they wanted to go and what they wanted to do. The Porforian Kingdom is massive, and there's no shortage of places to pick from or things to do, making narrowing it down tricky. They weren't in a rush to choose, but as soon as they had one idea of what to do, another idea sprung up, and they were back at square one.
"Speakin' of which, I got somethin' I wanna show you two."
BlackJack stepped back from the remaining half of his lunch and reached into his back pocket. The other two sponges watched as he pulled something out, unfolded it, and leaned it against the wall for them to see. A flyer, colored in a rainbow gradient, and covered in writing in their native language. It advertised a week long, kingdom wide festival, with each day dedicated to it's own theme.
"I grabbed this when I went with his cousin Gus to help out with a shipment. Since we can't decide on where to go, I think we should go to this instead."
"Wow, that looks really fun. But it says it's months from now," Stanley said. "Do we want to wait that long?"
"I'm willing. C'mon, we'll get a fancy hotel room in a nice spot for this thing, it'll be great," BlackJack said, going back to his food. "What d'you think, little man?"
"Well it does look fun," said SpongeBob. "I say we go!"
With that conversation finally done and over with the three of them ate the rest of their lunch catching up. There's nothing like spending time with his favorite cousins.
That had to be one of the longest days ever at the Krusty Krab. It's only saving grace was Stanley and BlackJack's surprise visit.
Rather than go home, SpongeBob took a detour to Jellyfish Fields. As much as he could use a good nights sleep, he wasn't in a rush to crawl into bed quite yet.
Not a lot of people liked going to jellyfish fields because they didn't want to be stung. While he spent most of his time there chasing the jellyfish around, it also made the perfect place to get away from people and be alone with his thoughts.
It's a peaceful place as long as you didn't give the jellyfish a reason to sting you. Easy enough for SpongeBob, but others either didn't know or care, and dismissed them as bothersome pests. They're really sweet creatures if you got to know them.
Years of jellyfishing taught them that he wasn't a threat, but a friend, and for that same reason, it was easy for SpongeBob to learn to read their body language and talk to them in a way.
SpongeBob wondered through the rolling green hills until he found a nice hill to lean against.
Now it's just him and the jellyfish.
BlackJack was probably right, he needed to visit him family more. They were the only people that weren't a struggle to be around. They didn't make his brain itch.
Something nudged at his nose.
SpongeBob opened his eyes and found he was face to face with a jellyfish, one of many floating around him.
"Hi. Am I too close to your nest?" He was careful, looking around to make sure he avoided their nesting area, but a few liked to make their own away from the others. But these jellyfish didn't look upset and ready to chase him off. One of them nudged at his left pocket.
"You must smell these." He reached in his pocket until he found and pulled out a small plastic bag filled with candies. Along with the food he's been cooking, SpongeBob gave candy making a go, but it didn't turn out so well. They were still editable, but he added way too much citric acid, on top of the batch being larger than expected. "You want them? I've got plenty."
The jellyfish buzzed around him happily. That's great! Now he doesn't have to eat through all the candy himself. He held a few pieces in his hand out for them to take, and by how they bobbed around after tasting them, it looked like they enjoyed the candy.
Being around the Bikini Bottomites is hard, but it's not that way here with the jellyfish. They didn't act one way towards him while feeling and thinking something completely different for years. He didn't have to hold himself back to get them to come around and play. They didn't have a holiday about getting away from him.
SpongeBob reached into his bag for more candy, but found it was empty.
"Sorry guys. I'm all out." He held up the empty bag for them to see. The jellyfish didn't like that, judging by the rising buzz coming from them. By now, he knew to stay calm. Their stings felt more like a simple static shock to him these days, but panicking would only anger them more and make their stings stronger. "It's okay, I'll bring more the next time I visit."
That did the trick and calmed them.
Still too early to leave, SpongeBob laid back on the hill, enjoying what was left of the sunset in front of him. A couple jellyfish made themselves comfortable on his head, another few settled in his lap.
Tomorrow's his day off. That used to get him down, but now it's a relief. He can stay home, or visit his family. He hasn't met cousin Moe's baby yet, he can do that. And while he's there he can cook her up a bunch of food so she can keep resting and he'll get to keep trying out recipes!
"Yeah, that'll be great," he sighed.
Feeling himself starting to doze off, the Sponge decided it's time to go. While it was warm in the day, it gets freezing at night, and he didn't want to risk getting the suds.
"Time for me to go, home," he said. He gently pat the jellyfish to wake them. "You all should get to your nests."
They lazily swam around him before flying off. SpongeBob watched them until he they were out of sight before heading home.