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Zim started to panic. He ran towards the door, but the professor was fast and stood in front of it, blocking Zim's escape. Zim ran towards the kitchen. The professor took out a taser. Fifty thousand volts shot through Zim's body, and he fell, rendered disabled. Pain wracked though Zim's body. The professor walked up to Zim, smoothly and quietly.
"Now Zim," he said. What had he done? He didn't have to be that drastic. Perhaps he didn't need to bring out a taser.

No.

This was the boy… wait. He wasn't a boy. This was the otherworldly monster that was the reason his son was like this today. In fact, why hasn't he shot Zim with a one hundred thousand volt taser?

Zim whimpered, lying on the ground.
"Yes?" Zim breathed.
"We could've done this the easy way," the professor answered.
"What kind of human technology is this?" Zim's voice cracked and he began to cry.
Okay, the professor did feel bad.
"Zim, that was a taser," he said. "I need to ask you… how old are you?" Zim sobbed but answered, afraid.
"I'm sixteen in my species' years, but one-hundred sixty eight in my years," he said. The professor wrote that down.
"What is your species called?"
"Irken." The professor wrote that down.
"Oh, professor," Zim said. "It hurts."
That hit the professor in the heart.
"Shush now," the professor said gently. "I know it does. But you weren't cooperating." Tears streamed down Zim's face onto the floor. Was this the pain Dib experienced? Probably more, actually.
Professor Membrane picked Zim up.
"Where are you taking me?" Zim asked.
"To my lab," the professor answered cooly. Zim started to cry again. That was an Invader's worst nightmare. To be taken by a species that didn't know another race existed beside itself, and being experimented on. This was the end for him. He shivered. But then he noticed something. The professor wasn't holding him with an iron grip. His grip was soft, less barbaric.
Probably because he knows I'm disabled, Zim thought. But still, he wasn't going to risk getting electricity shot through his body again.

Yes, the professor was very powerful.

Both him and his taser.

Zim sort of clung on limply to the professor as he was being dragged back to the lab.

"We've arrived at the lab," the professor said. Zim really couldn't tell what the professor was feeling. He sort of just said it, nothing extra was put in his voice. And with most of the professor's face covered up, his emotion was undetectable.
So Zim just waited patiently.
He was laid down on a metal table and restrained around the wrists, ankles, torso, and neck. The restraint in his neck was tight enough so that he couldn't get away, but loose enough so that he could breathe. While the professor temporarily went off to look for something, Zim looked around. He was beginning to be able to move again. He saw Dib sitting on the floor looking back at him.
Dib looked terrible. He was in his pajamas and his hair was messy. He was pale and thin, and his pajama shirt was stained with something. Probably vomit. He was shivering. Was he sick? Zim doubted it.
All of this is because of me, Zim thought. Dib is pale and skinny like this because I was the one who traumatized him.
Zim watched Dib causally get up, walk towards a sink in the lab and empty out the few stomach contents he had into it. Professor Membrane must have heard his son getting sick because he rushed over.
"Son, stay here," he said. He ran up the stairs and grabbed a glass of water. He ran down the stairs into his lab again.
"Dad," Dib said. "Is it okay if I have some ginger ale?"
"Drinking ginger ale immediately after getting sick is a bad choice. It can irritate your stomach." He handed Dib the glass of water. And began explaining to him the process.
"When you vomit, some of your stomach lining comes up. When people claim to see 'carrots' in their vomit, that's really pieces of the stomach lining—"
"Okay, okay Dad," Dib said. "I understand the importance of drinking a glass of water after I get sick."
Guilt shot through Zim like a red-hot iron bar. Poor Dib-human! He wished there was something he could do… he had to make up for all of this, somehow. He watched Dib gulp down the water.
What would happen if I drank water, Zim wondered. Would I die? Or is it just my skin that can't tolerate the substance? Then his mind wandered off to what in water caused his skin. It was two parts hydrogen and one part oxygen…
And then he stared at Dib and his father, Dib complaining about how his stomach hurt and Professor Membrane seating Dib in his lap, rubbing his back.
What about these humans do I envy? Zim thought. All they're doing is holding each other and sitting on a dirty old floor.
But still…
Was it the connection he envied?
Yes, that was it.
Irkens didn't have parents, instead they were grown in a tube, dropped onto the floor, forced to have a machine drilled to their backs, zapped to life and then dropped down a chute with the others, ready to begin their training at a young age.
But humans were different. They'd have care-takers to raise and teach them, and to take care of them when they were sick. When Irkens got sick they were simply taken to a hospital, where they would get surgery or medication quickly and then be thrown out on the streets again to recover. Where as humans sympathized over each other, and helped each other get better to a farther extent.
Is that why sick humans hold on?
Do they hold on for other healthy humans?
Zim watched as Professor Membrane raised Dib to the sink. Dib got sick, and shortly after Professor Membrane handed Dib the cup of water, saying something about how vomiting takes away a lot of fluid from the body and he should immediately drink the water.
Was Zim envying love?
What? No! Irkens didn't need love! Irkens couldn't feel love! They didn't want it! That's why it was removed from the emotions that Irkens could feel! It caused nothing but trouble! How could he envy something as horrible and useless as love?

But…

What about Dib and his father? Looking at them made Zim think that maybe love wasn't all that bad. He really wanted to feel the type of connection Dib and Professor Membrane felt. It could be towards anyone! He didn't care if it was Gir or his computer. He just really wanted to—
"Son," Professor Membrane's voice cut through his daydreaming. "I need to examine Zim right now. Would you like to stay down here with me or go watch TV with Gaz?" Dib didn't hesitate to answer.
"I wanna stay down here with you, Dad!" He said happily. Professor Membrane bent down and gently stroked Dib's hair.
"Okay, Son." He gave Dib a water bottle. "But, whenever you get sick, if like you to take five long gulps of this water bottle. Got it? No less!"
"Got it."
Professor Membrane stared down at Dib in sympathy, but then turns around promptly to Zim.
"Hello, Zim," he said, his voice conversational.
"Hello, Sir," Zim said back. Professor Membrane pulled on the black glove he was wearing. He pulled on the edges, and then let it snap. it made a sharp sound, making Zim jump.
"I'm going to start by asking you some questions," Professor Membrane said.
Questions.
Questions weren't that bad.
"What's that bulky metal thing on your back?"
"I-it's called a PAK," Zim said. "I can only live ten minutes without it. It controls who I am. It's very important." Professor Membrane jotted this down in a small notebook.
"I can assume so. What's your planet's name? I understand you label yourself as 'Irken'."
"Yes. And my planet's name is Irk," he said. The rapid note-jotting followed. For the longest while, Professor Membrane just stood there, staring down at Zim. Zim was afraid, he could tell.

He looked down at a list.

"Step one, done," Professor Membrane said as he checked off a box.

"Hope is that little voice in your head that says 'maybe' when the rest of the world is screaming 'NO!'"
-Unknown

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