Zim set his bags down in the doorway of his former base, looking around the room in disgust. What hadn't been stripped away was covered in filth from years of disuse and rot. Animal leavings were everywhere, and there were even a few nests poking out of holes in the wall. He'd passed the overgrown front yard, hinting more life burrowing among the rotting plastic lawn decorations.

His equipment would begin arriving in a few hours, on special transport from the government facility. Dib would help him begin to set up tomorrow. I should clean this wreck. But even as he braced himself to go farther in, he couldn't bring himself to lift a foot.

Everyone had been disappointed at his decision to return to his base, especially Mikko and Tiana. Tiana had begged and pleaded and demanded to know why he couldn't just stay with them. Mikko, on the verge of graduating Hi-Skool, hadn't been as insistent, but had sunk into a sort of sulk, which was its own protest altogether. Della had pursed her lips, unhappy with the idea, but she'd given in, so long as he let them know when his base was presentable so they could have a proper housewarming.

"My base isn't that cold," He muttered to himself. At least Tom had just informed him his job was waiting for him to come back, and to be there on time. He was grateful for Tom's stability. He cared deeply for all in that family, but the females seemed to move their moods so quickly, it was hard to predict at times. He had only seen Tom truly angry once, and it was in defense of his family.

Family. He reached up and touched the fresh bandage tied around his forehead. The word had come to have so many different meanings. He had the family that had taken him in, and then he had the family that he was related to by biological processes that were distasteful for him to even consider at the moment. But whatever had brought Red to the point of committing the acts he so deeply regretted now, Zim couldn't help but be grateful to be alive. Yes, he decided. In spite of everything, it was good to be alive.

Zim glanced down at his bags, sighing. He wasn't ready to start cleaning up his base, he didn't even want to think about his base in this state, and even this apathy disturbed him. Where he would have happily spent hours just de-germifying his base before, he now stared at the wreckage with a sense of reluctance to involve himself. I'm just tired, he reasoned. And he was, the last two weeks had taxed him to his physical and emotional limits. The tiredness went much deeper than his body.

"You 'kay Masta?"

Zim blinked, as GIR strolled in past him, picking up the bags. "Zim is fine, GIR, when did you get here?"

"You said go get food, GIR gots food. You been standin' there long time, just starin'."

Zim sighed. "I suppose I have."

GIR tilted his head a little, his silver hair falling past cyan eyes. "You's diff'rent, Masta."

Zim snorted. "You're one to talk."

GIR grinned a little. "Yeah, guess so. Thinkin's easier now, an' sayin' things right so's you get it, that's easier too." His smile faded. "But you's a lot sadder'n you used ta be."

Zim's mouth quirked. "Sometimes, GIR. Sometimes I'm very happy. But right now I don't even know where to start on this base."

GIR grabbed Zim's shoulders and turned him toward the door. "Don' worry 'bout it, Masta. GIR's got it! Go 'way now, come back later."

Zim blinked, trying to turn back. "GIR you can't possibly—"

GIR steered him toward the door. "No don' 'but' me I'mma clean base. Go 'way now. Bye Masta, have fun!" The door slammed shut behind Zim, the lock clicking in place.

Zim stood there, shocked. Did GIR just... He shook his head. Normal SIRs never gave their masters commands, much less rebelled, but GIR had never been a normal SIR. Even less so now, in humanoid form. Apparently with human emotions as well. Stupid hyumans will infect the universe with their idiotic emotions.

He stared at his feet awhile, before beginning his trek down the streets. He'd put it off long enough, he supposed. He should see his... mother. Again. Gaz would already be furious that he hadn't spoken to her since his return. His fear of her was less, but his natural instincts still screamed Predator whenever she was near.

It wasn't too long before he saw the house in the distance. The smelly garbage human was walking down the sidewalk at a fast clip away from the house. Zim passed him, giving him a wide berth so he wouldn't have to smell the trash. Glancing up at the house, he saw her, sitting in a chair on the porch. Gloria Membrane. Curled up in her lap was Gaz, hugging her tightly as she cried.

Zim's expression softened, and he approached the porch cautiously. Gaz glanced up, giving him a warning look. He paused where he was.

Gloria looked up as well, and began wiping her eyes, trying to clear the tears away. Zim hurried up the steps, over to her side, and caught her hand gently. "If there is anything I have learned here, it's that there's no shame in these leakings." He slipped his hand into hers, his skin steaming slightly at the tears on her hand. He winced, but continued, "I am glad you were able to release them."

Gloria looked down, staring at the porch. Zim's shoulders slumped slightly. Even knowing who he was, she couldn't fully look at him, but he took some encouragement from the fact that she hadn't let go of his hand.

Gaz's thoughts swarmed his mind like angry bees. Where were you? Why weren't you here sooner?

Aloud, he spoke to Gloria. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to come sooner. I had to finish all earthly legal dealings with the Swollen Eyeball, and arrange for my equipment to be returned. I'll be living at my previous base from here on out, with visits to... both my families." He paused, and added, "Who are also welcome to visit Zim... Gaz knows where it is. So does Dib."

Gaz scowled at him, but slipped off Gloria's lap. "I'm going inside to get some water for Mom." She stalked past them into the house, slamming the door behind her.

Zim looked at the hand in his. It was about the size of his hand, but somehow frailer looking. Around her wrists were circular scars, the type gained by repeated wrenching against wrist restraints. His own scarred hands traced hers, gingerly. "Mother," he said softly, "I want to tell you something. It may not come out like I want it to, I'm still learning the right ways to say things, after all this time. What I want to say is... I know you suffered a lot." Her hand tensed under his, but he continued. "I can't know that kind of suffering myself, but I understand. In my life I have been... beaten. Tortured. Trained in the most grueling academies. Dissected and experimented on." He shook his head slightly. "I've been insane for many decades, and only been able to reclaim my mind in the last few years on this planet. But in all this, you know... I don't regret it. Being here. Being on Earth, alive, learning and living."

He let his claws pause over the scars a moment. "I have very different and conflicting feelings when I think of you," he admitted. "To me... Della is the one who took me in, and helped me most in reclaiming myself. In that way... she is my Maneem. But you..." He struggled to find gentle words to use. "You... brought me into life. It wasn't your choice." He swallowed a little. "I understand... I wasn't your choice. I wish I..." He paused, breathing slowly in and out. This shouldn't be as hard as it was, he had little to no connection with this woman. "I wish I had been. But I can't change that. And I can't change that I look like him. All I can say is... thank you. Thank you for giving me into life, even if I wasn't your choice."

Gloria's hand lay limp in his. He lifted his head up, to see her gaze still fixed firmly to the porch floor. His shoulders sank as he let go of her hand, and stood straight. "I will come back soon. But I wanted to make sure you were doing well—better. Not well, I know you're not..." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I apologize... I should go."

He turned, walking down the porch steps, through the lawn, and to the sidewalk. He glanced back to the porch one more time.

She had lifted her head, and was watching him walk away. She held his gaze a few moments, from the distance of the sidewalk, before dropping her head back down.

The corner of Zim's mouth curled slightly. Tiny little steps, he mused. That's the only way any of us get through the day anymore, tiny little steps.