Dib was glad to be leaving the hospital. It smelled too much like what he imagined death smelled like. Most people might imagine death to smell like dead flowers or a musky, earthy aroma. Dib saw it more as a cleanness that stung your lungs with its strong purity. Which was another reason he hated the oxygen masks. The best way to describe it is when you've just had a strong mint and take a deep breath through your mouth. It's chilly and piercing, like tiny needles jabbing into your lungs. He hated that feeling. He hated the mask, he hated hospitals and most of all he hated having to use either of them.

While on the subject of hating things, he hated being escorted out in a wheelchair. Why did they have to add insult to injury? Dib looked up at the pretty attendant that wheeled him down the slopes past the curious people in the front lobby. Hospital hospitality my ass, he thought as a child pulled on his mother's coat and asked what was wrong with the funny kid in the wheelchair. At least one person in the lobby seemed to understand the humiliation behind the escort.

"How are you feeling, son?"

Dib looked away out of habit. His father may have understood, but he also pitied his son. "I'll live."

Professor Membrane nodded, motioning the lady to follow him out to the car. Dib sat as patiently as possible as they went through the emergency lane and into the patient pickup lot. He wanted to jump out of the chair and into the car but the lady made it her business to help him.

Dib had never before shut a door closed quite so fast or with as much vicious intent. Professor Membrane considered himself duly warned as he thanked the attendant and seated himself in the driver's seat.

"How bad was it?" he asked as he put the car in reverse and made his way out of the crowded parking lot.

"They didn't tell you?"

"Yes, but I want to know how bad you thought it was."

"I almost died." Dib chanced a look over at his father, but remained facing mostly toward the window. As always, there wasn't much of a face to read. His father was still in his lab coat, which covered his mouth, and his eyes were hidden by goggles.

"His name's Zim, right?"

Dib startled. "What about him?"

Professor Membrane shrugged. "The skool said he was the one who brought you in. You should have him over one night so I can thank him."

Dib worried his brow. Zim had brought him in? He didn't remember that. "If Zim did anything to help me, it's just so that he can be the one to kill me later."

"That's a very cruel thing to say."

"He's an alien, Dad!" Dib shouted. "The same alien I've been trying to tell you about for six years!"

"I thought we'd talked about this."

"Yeah, Dad, we did. But you're wrong. I'm not crazy! Everything I've told you is true. Whatever's making me sick is NOT making me DELUSIONAL!" He let loose with a burst of adrenaline. He was pissed off enough at going through the embarrassment of the whole ordeal. He didn't even want to think about what skool would be like next time he went and now his dad was on his case.

"I'm sorry if I've upset you."

Dib crossed his arms over his chest and sat back in his seat. "It's okay. I just want to go home and forget about it.

The Professor cleared his throat. "You and Gaz'll have to be on your own for dinner. I'll be working overtime again."

Dib nodded. His father always worked overtime when something like this happened. Gaz was going to hate him for it, but there wasn't much he could do. When it was all over, she'd have her father back. Whatever way the end turned out.

**

"I can't concentrate with all these distractions!" Zim shouted, pulling at his antennae.

"What distractions?" Gir asked from his slushy.

Zim cast his a dangerous stare. "If you wish to remain operational, I suggest you go upstairs."

"But I wanna stay with youuuuu!"

The Irkin rolled his eyes. "I think I hear the scary monkey show..."

"SCARY MONKEY!" Gir shouted, disappearing in a blast of smoke as he skedaddled upstairs to the couch where the broadcasting test lines squealed on the set. "I love this show..."

Zim closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. It wasn't so much Gir's distractions, though, on the whole, he added to the unwanted noise pile more than any piece of equipment in the base, as much as it was Dib.

"Stupid human," Zim muttered, putting what he had been working on down for the third time. He was getting nowhere. His conversation with Gaz hadn't answered any of his questions either, only making new ones like little ripples in a pond. It all stemmed from Dib though. That was as much as he was sure of. He'd tried to find him at his home but it was empty. The human was probably still at the hospital. Just thinking about it made shivers travel the length of his squeedily-spooch.

"STUPID HUMAN!" Zim threw his highly delicate instrumentation across the room, watching it explode in cheesy sparkler lights and smoke. "How can I plan on destroying mankind if I'm too busy worrying about you!" He rethought his sentence then laughed nervously, though no one had overheard him. "Hehehe, did I say worried? Why should I be worried about him? I'm just concerned, I mean...GAH!" Zim pushed off from the console and made his way back upstairs through the tabletop entrance. This was really becoming annoying.

With his disguise in place he made it to the door. "I'll be back in a while, Gir. I have to deal with a small problem."

Gir sat, completely involved in his program.

"Gir? Gir!" Zim shook his head, deciding it better that the robot not realize he was gone, anyway.

The walk to Dib's house was short; Zim's mind in constant thought had leaving little time for wondering "are we there yet?". His usual hesitance at the front door was gone and he quickly pushed the doorbell. He'd have rather just walked in, but keeping with earth customs was something he'd gotten used to disliking and doing anyway. He was almost sure the house would still be empty, so when the door did open he was rather startled.

When two tired-looking gold eyes looked out at him, he was even more so.

"Zim? What do you want?" Dib asked, rubbing one eye with his palm. He wasn't wearing his glasses, Zim noted.

"I have some questions for you, worm monkey," Zim spat, letting himself inside and shutting the door. "Unlike with your sister, I won't enable you to slam my extremities in the door while you ignore me." Dib's confused glance followed Zim to the couch, where the alien made himself comfortable. "Now, tell me what's going on."

Dib shook his head to loosen up the loose ends that Zim left hanging in his mind. "You really did help me at skool?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, we all remember that. Now, tell me what I want to know!" One look at Dib and Zim realized he didn't remember. "It must be pretty bad if you forgot something without the help of my nano technology."

Dib frowned. "Why should I tell you? So that you can use my weakness against me? Tough chance, Zim! Now get out!"

"I must KNOW!" Zim raised a fist in the air. "What if I end up getting sick with what you had?"

"You won't."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Now go!"

"So it's not contagious?"

"No. Leave!"

"Then why did no one else help you?"

Dib opened his mouth with a response, but found it was choked halfway out his throat. No one else had wanted to help him? Zim was the only one? ZIM? "Because...because..."

"Was it for the same reason that Gaz didn't care?"

"Gaz?"

Zim nodded, leaning back and making himself comfortable. It was obvious he wasn't going to be going anywhere for a while. "I asked her about you and she started yelling about how it's all your fault about your dad and mom and her not being happy yadda yadda yadda. The little bitch slammed my hand in her car door!" He raised his hand for Dib to see. There weren't any visible markings on it, though.

"What?" Dib held his aching head in his hands. He couldn't believe it. He always knew Gaz resented him, but he hadn't known how much or for what.

"It hurt a lot too," Zim continued. "She said you've been like this since you were a baby. This interests me, since I never knew about it. I praise your ability to hide it this long, but it is time to tell me all."

Dib writhed with anger. "You expect me to tell you anything after you come in here and insult me!"

"You're eyes are beautiful without your glasses," Zim said smoothly.

Dib startled. "What?"

"If insulting won't get me what I want than I shall try compliments!"

"Leave me alone!"

"You're so cute when you're angry."

"Out!"

"I love what you've done with your hair."

"Zim, enough!"

"Has anyone ever told you you remind them of a young Fox Mulder?"

Dib hesitated. "I do?"

"Yes." Zim nodded. "A very sick Fox Mulder who wants to tell his superior about what ails him!"

"You are incorrigible!"

"Maybe so, but either way you are going to tell me for I will not move from this couch until I have been told!"

Dib shrugged his shoulders. "Okay." Then walked upstairs to his room and shut the door.

Zim sighed. "It seems my plan has developed a slight flaw."