Author's Note: This fic is dedicated to Enjoyer Of Humour, who made the story request for it and has been beta reading it.

Comparatively Normal

Though it seemed just a simple suburban family of three, the Membrane household never truly had its fair share of normality. It was considering that these three were the famed Professor Membrane, his daughter, and his Earth-defending (a little-known fact) son. It was also considering that their two-story house was surrounded partially by an electric plasma fence and their garage contained an alien spaceship (a little-known fact). What one may consider "normal" was in fact somewhat strange to this family, and the daughter often wished it different. But little did she know that mundane conflict, particularly familial conflict, was unfamiliar territory even to her—and one such dilemma would soon make her miss the more bizarre conundrums in her life (zombie fruit flies infesting the kitchen; frequent break-ins by a particular trigger-happy alien—still more little-known facts). At least those she knew how to deal with. Especially since they often involved violence; that she could understand. It was easy to grab a baseball bat and swing at intruding monsters—it was somewhat like what she did, day in and day out, on her favorite video games. But never had she owned a game based on understanding another's feelings. And though such a game seemed ridiculous to her, she would soon wish she had been the first to play one.

Said mundane conflict was in fact caused by Gaz herself one Saturday as she reclined on the couch and (unsurprisingly) spent hours on her Gameslave 2. Barely even hearing her brother's call of "Going to get more soda, Gaz! Be back soon!" (she may or may not have grunted in reply), she was so immersed in slaying every digital vampire porcine appearing on screen that she nearly (nearly) lost track of what level she was on. Upon entering Level—12? Okay, that was right; Level 12—her low battery indicator began to flash. Grumbling, she saved the game and turned it off, stomping to the supply closet. When she found no batteries therein, the girl turned to her room in hopes that her security dolls would contain the required items. They did have working batteries, but not the double-As she needed. Unfortunately, her clock contained triple-As, as did the TV remote.

Gaz was not sure why raiding her brother's room for batteries was a last resort, as she was usually willing to take what she wanted from Dib in the first place. Her agitation quickly mounted as she discovered that his new alarm clock was powered by a wall outlet, as were his other electronics.

She was about to leave when she remembered Dib's hiding spot.

"He better have something with batteries under here." Gaz moved to his bed and lifted away the pillow. There was never any telling what could be found under there, but it was always a sort of treasure trove for her. Sometimes a private diary; other times even technological junk stolen from Zim. But her personal favorite by far was a drawing of Dib striking a heroic pose atop a miniature Earth; holding up Zim's severed head victoriously, with happy-go-lucky people spewing dialogue bubbles of "Dib, Dib, Dib, Dib!" Though normally keeping her snooping secret, Gaz had been unable to resist teasing her brother about that one, and having discovered it months ago, had not let him live it down since.

And right now, she would have enjoyed finding such a good laugh in Dib's hiding spot, for it was this time free of anything containing her desired batteries—or anything at all for that matter.

"That Dib," she growled. "Why can't he just sit around playing video games like normal kids? It's not like Zim could ever wise up and—Uughh!" Gaz hurled the pillow as hard as she could at the far wall. But her rage was cut short when it struck something. Not just the wall, but something in the wall. Raising an eyebrow, she stepped closer for a better look.

A small square section of the wall in question had depressed a few inches. Gaz curiously pressed on it, and it sunk in further, and to her surprise popped back a few inches out of the wall. The "button" was in fact a sort of drawer, and the girl slowly peered over the top and into it, hopes high that it contained unprecedented secrets, Dib's most personal effects, or at least double-A batteries.

However, the single item it did contain was, much like the day so far, comparatively normal: a single moth-shaped necklace pendant.