Saturday, 8:44 am Charlie

"He's awake, look!"

Dib and I rushed to the alien's bedside at the groan. Our "patient's" eyes slitted open just barely, allowing us to see a sliver of that odd magenta color. He tried to move his head, without much luck. It looked like the drug was still strong in his system.

Thank goodness...

I could only imagine how furious he would be if he were fully lucid...

"Do... do you think we should do something?" I looked at Dib, concerned about our situation.

"Why should we do something?"

"Well... I mean... he's waking up... and... what if he tries something and..." I trailed off.

Dib nodded, understanding my meaning, "Okay. We wouldn't want him to escape suddenly or try to hurt one of us or anything. What do you suggest?"

"Me?! You're the paranormal investigator!"

"You subdued him the first time," Dib replied plainly.

That was true... But all I had done was hit him over the head with a baseball bat. And we couldn't do that again. The alien was already looking sorry enough as it was. I didn't want to add another wound to my list of guilt.

Yes... guilt. I felt GUILTY for hitting this poor creature. This... alien. From what how Dib thinks of him, he must have done something terrible. So I should be essentially heartless to him, right?

... Right?

Maybe not. My dad always told me never to hate or love something unless you have a reason for doing so. Why should I hate him just because my new partner did? Zim hasn't done anything bad that was directly connected to me... except for trying to attack me when we first met. But that was instinctual. He had crash-landed in a strange place, with a strange human holding a strange weapon in her hands standing in front of him. It was perfectly natural to react that way. And besides that, there was no reason not to give help to any alien who needed it.

At least... that's what I told myself. It made sense. And it gave me a reason to give in to my intense sympathy for him.

"Yeah, but... I don't know what to do now." I walked to the couch, kneeling beside it. Dib followed, standing quietly behind me. He didn't seem to have any ideas either. And meanwhile, the alien began to stir. If ever-so-slightly.

I reached forward and felt his forehead. It was still warm, maybe even more than before. How in the world had he gotten a fever? Could aliens catch the flu? But maybe it was...

Sliding my hand up to the bandage on his head, I slowly peeled it off. A rancid odor, like an old penny, wafted up to my nose. I suppressed a retch. The wound had gotten infected.

Badly, from the appearance of it. The reddened flesh was in stark comparison to the other light green skin. A dough-colored liquid flooded in parts of the damaged skin.

"Ohhh my..." Dib's voice sounded mortified, "I... I'll be right back." With that, he rushed out of the room and away to wherever he could clear the image from his mind. And possibly clear his stomach.

I stayed. Someone had to watch after him, after all. And it seemed it was going to be me. But I didn't understand how the wound had gotten so bad so quickly. It was only an hour or so ago when I... inflicted... it on him. Infection shouldn't be setting in for a long time yet...

I shook my head. It wasn't time to wonder about alien physiology. Zim's chest rose and fell quicker than before, and his face was beginning to bead up in something like sweat... There was no doubt now. He was feverish from the infection.

The open flesh was bleeding again, the red mixing with the yellow pus into a sickening sludge. Thinking quickly, I grabbed a cloth off of the loveseat next to the couch and used it to mop up the liquid. It was pretty disgusting... Good thing I had had a lot of practice cleaning up wounds with all of the animals my family has had in the past. But this was still different. Patching up a cat's paw or straightening a bird's broken wing was on matter.

THIS... this was an alien. A humanoid alien.

I felt like a student trying to write a report on a subject that they know nothing about.

Except this was real life, and Zim could possibly get gangrene if I don't fix this. If Irkens could even GET gangrene. I doubted it. But then again, I didn't know they could get infections. This whole thing was a big revolving puddle of uncertainty. Try and give him antibiotics, and I could accidently trigger some kind of a... allergic reaction or something. Who knows what I could do to him?

I had to do something. The thought came to me. If I didn't do anything, he wouldn't get any better for SURE. But if I did... and I saved him. I wonder if he would be grateful? Maybe he would be so thankful to me that I had saved his life that he wouldn't try and kill me again... It was a long shot, but not entirely impossible.

I shook my head. It didn't matter how he would react. I was going to do all I could, despite my lack of alien medical knowledge.

I was going to try and save Zim's life.