. . . Are obviously Conspiracy theories.

YEAAAH!

"I was a heavy heart to carry!
My beloved was weighed down
My arms around his neck,
My fingers laced to crown
I was a heavy heart to carry!
My feet never left the ground!
And when he held me in his arms,
My feet never touched the ground!"
-Heavy in Your Arms, by Florence + the Machine

A truly gifted singer. I highly recommend their songs, as it's easy to write to them.

Enjoy.

Chapter 25
"The Best Kind of Theories"

"Son?"

I turned on my heel. Several minutes ago, we'd been admitted onto the property of my dad's labs. I had a terrible feeling in my stomach as several doctors eyed me, some muttering to each other and other simply choosing to inspect me as we passed. I'd never felt comfortable here, even when I was a kid and didn't suspect my father of doing awful things to my sister's genetic code.

Is that why Zim won't let me call him? I thought briefly, my eyes flicking to one of many security cameras. Because he thinks my dad could be waiting for something like that?

That just made me all the more sick. If Zim was hiding Gaz from my dad, something had drastically changed the situation. I had no idea where to start looking right now, though, so I was going to have to figure it out later, after I completed my first plan of getting to the Internet Cafe. If Zim didn't tell me while we talked, that is.

Suddenly my father's arms were thrown around my neck, and for the first time, I felt the weight of my father embracing me in a hug. A real, concerned, honest-to-goodness hugged. I was so stunned I just went stock still, like moving would send my spiraling out of my hallucination and back into the real world, where I'd find myself once again confined in the Crazy House for Boys, even if I was much too old for the building. Maybe they'd make an acception for me, or, rather, my dad.

But it was not a mirage, I begrudgingly admitted, as my father pulled away to place very large, gloved hands on my shoulders. It made me kind of glad that my dad didn't hug me, something I hadn't expected. Being next to him, despite the figure I'd attained that girls might called 'toned' or 'fit', I felt really gangly. I'd never realized how freaking huge my dad was.

"Uh, hey, Dad." I said, still staring. "You okay?"

"Me?" He asked, as if the question was preposterous. "Of course, son! I was worried about you!"

"Me?" I said, feeling kind of stupid for repeating his words. I rubbed my neck awkwardly as he removed his hands, loosely crossing his arms in a manner far too casual for my father. "Um, yeah, Dad, fine. I'm just worried about Gaz is all."

There, I thought, with some satisfaction. That sounded very brotherly.

Of course, I already had a pretty good idea where Gaz was. Honestly, for all I knew, Zim could have her burrowed a thousand feet under ground in Turkey, but I doubted she'd have let him take off with her without at least giving me some notification. Gaz was just that kind of person. She could give a shit when she was next to you, but as soon as you were out of her sight, she worried about you. It'd taken me years to figure this out, but after about 16 years of being around my sister, her attitude was starting to become familiar, and dare I say it, predictable.

My father, to his credit, seemed very worried. But with his goggles and collar blocking the majority of his face, I couldn't be sure if he was just a wonderful actor or genuinely concerned about his daughter.

Or he might just be scared about his pet-project getting hurt, my mind growled pessimistically. It took all I had in me to pretend that I was oblivious. To not simply rear my arm back and punch my father in the jaw as hard as I possibly could. To not then jump on him, call him all sorts of foul words, and beat him to a pulp, until the guards had to drag me off of him. And then spit on him as I was towed from the room to a nice, comfy jail-cell.

I almost did it.

But somehow, I managed to make myself not.

"As am I, son, as am I." He agreed, patting me on the shoulder a few times. "Now, tell me what happened this morning."

"She was sick," I said, leaving out the weekends rather, well, eventful happenings. "She caught the flu or something. I saw her myself. She looked like hell and had a fever. I was going to stay home to help her, but-." I immediately decided against Zim's place in the story, never so much as skipping a beat in my story as I lied through my teeth. "-She insisted that she could take care of herself."

It needed something else.

I turned my glare to the floor, guilt radiating from me. "Some big brother I turned out to be. I'm supposed to be protecting her, and I leave her at home, sick and defenseless, to get kidnapped by some maniac who likes praying on little girls and taking their things."

From the corner of my eye, I saw my escorts from earlier nod at my father and leave the room. And I knew then that my story had been believed, and my dad was wholly convinced I had nothing to do with Gaz's disappearance. Which, unfortunately, left her with all the blame, but at the same time, left me to do as I pleased. And possibly help more on this side then I could being with her and Zim, in hiding.

"No need to blame yourself, son," my father assured me, placing his whole arm on my shoulder in what I imagined was a reassuring manner. Too fatherly to be real, though. But my dad was a wonderful actor. "This is no one's fault. We all know how insistent your sister can be when she wants something, as well as her independent tendencies. It couldn't be helped."

Yeah, my traitorous mind spat. I'm sure you know everything about her, don't you? Down to her genetic freaking make-up code . . . That YOU built, personally, no doubt. How very fucking considerate of you . . .

I'd never been so pissed before. At anyone. Maybe Zim, on a couple or rare occasions, but those had been very bad days, and it wouldn't have been the first time he and I had used the other as a personal stress-relieving punching bag, nor would it be the last. It had just been the first time I hadn't felt elated while doing it. I'd just been way too pissed off.

"Yeah, I know." I mumbled, noticing that my backpack was gone and finding myself glad I'd slipped my phone into my pocket. "You're looking for her, right?"

"Anyplace we can think of. The police are waiting another 17 hours to start, though. They do have policies, of course, 24 hours without contact and all. After all, your sister might come back, right? Positive thinking, son, positive thinking!"

I nodded, ignoring my urges. "Yeah, right. Do you mind if I go looking for her myself, Dad? There's this one place on 7th she used to go to, to do homework and stuff. It's unlikely, but . . ." I trailed off. This was a great plan, especially for me. Gaz was normally the one who could manipulate people for a plot. Now it was my turn.

I wasn't going to act recklessly, though. Even though I had my phone on me, I wasn't going to try and use it. I wasn't stupid enough to think my father wasn't going to at least keep tabs on my phone as a precaution. I was going to, much to my shame, pick-pocket someone's phone. It wasn't too hard for me to be sneaky, after so many years of breaking into a house with security that rivaled my Dad's labs. Gaz had pointed out to me (more times than it was comfortable) that I could be a wonderful house-burgular. But I didn't have it in me to be a criminal. I didn't have the stomach for it.

This, however, would be the exception.

My father nodded. "Of course, son. I'll have a car take you there. The house is temporarily off limits, as there is an investigation going on, privately, but I'll let you know when you can return there."

I nodded. "Thanks, Dad."

"Good luck, Dib. Remember, only positive thoughts, yes?" I nodded. "Good. Run along now."

That was easy. I thought, watching as my escorts returned into the room, waiting patiently as my father gave them orders to take me to 7th St., and wherever else I wanted to go. Now all I gotta worry about it preparing myself to talk to Zim.

Unfortunately, I knew, nothing could prepare me for that.

It took me a moment to realize that the darkness surrounding me was not the familiar color of my eyelids.

I resisted the urge to shiver, despite the blanket, which I could feel wrapped securely around my person. I cracked my eyes open, none too surprised to find my head resting against a familiar-clothed chest. I became aware I was being carried, and was a bit surprised to find how completely comfortable I was. I assumed the slight jostling of my place from the couch into his arms had woken me, as aside from that, I was perfectly content. Which was more than unnerving.

I also quickly became aware Zim was still humming what I assumed was the same tune I thought I'd heard on and off in my dreams. Which weren't really so much dreams as they were the occasional slur of colors and noise, which was always that damned humming. It kept me asleep, oddly, because noise normally wakes me up. But I guess even the best of us are susceptible to lullabies. At least, when we're sick. (1)

Zim seemed to not have noticed I was awake, or, if he had, he was just going to ignore me so that I could go back to sleep without incident. Which, admittedly, might work, since I could already feel my eyelids dropping. I nestled myself more comfortably against him, wondering where he was taking me but far more concerned with how absolutely at ease I was. I hadn't felt so relaxed in ages. My back wasn't even bothering me in this half-awake state I was in. My eyes were half-closed, but were just open enough for me to watch my surroundings through my lashes.

Gir was following, surprisingly, very quietly. He seemed to notice I was awake, however, as he was on Zim's left, and beamed at me, motioning for me to be quiet. As if he was the one who was asleep and didn't want to be noticed, not me. I smiled a little, not risking a nod before relaxing my face again. He seemed content and continued to hug his animal, trailing along silently. How Zim had managed to make him so silent, I did not know, but it was quite impressive nonetheless.

Zim seemed to notice my previous shifting of burrowing myself into his shirt and readjusted me slightly, so that I could place my head completely against his chest instead of partially on his shoulder, as well. This was, to my disbelief, infinitely more comfortable. The gentle motion of him walking felt like heaven. Granted, I still felt like crap, still being sick and all, but I was wholly convinced this was as good as it could get when you were this ill.

The humming continued with pauses only coming between the melody, where appropriate. Zim's breathing between then was almost inaudible, but this close, I could just detect it through his lips. I discovered how dry my tongue was and licked the inside of my mouth, making a few noises before adjusting myself against Zim again, sighing. I was glad my eyes were mostly closed, as immediately I felt Zim's dart to my face. I was unable to resist the smirk on my face at his paranoia, though in my laziness, it came out as a soft smile. I wondered how he'd react to that; me, smiling in my sleep as I rested against him.

At the same time, I wondered why I was so alright with it.

The small faltering in his humming, created from checking on me, continued, and I was once again lulled into my state of awakened, comfortable, peace. I made sure to keep my fractional sight unnoticeable, just in case Zim checked on me again. He didn't, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. I became increasingly suspicious when we descended into his labs, but that turned to confusion as he walked past it, ignoring this far too familiar room completely. Gir, still aware of my own awareness, smiled at me again. How Zim didn't notice this, I wasn't sure, but I figured his mind was anywhere but on the malfunctioning robot accompanying us.

A door I had not seen previously opened, and I resisted snapping my eyes open to get a full view of the room. It definitely had not been here before. Which meant that this was probably the room Zim had his house build for me while we stayed here, and he was just moving me in here so I wouldn't have to sleep on the couch. It was an oddly considerate gesture, although I really hadn't minded sleeping on the couch.

I noticed the rest of my things in the corner of the new, er, my room, as we passed it. Huh. So he had thought to move my stuff before moving me. That was . . . also unusually thoughtful of a move for him to do. His tune came to a mellow stop, hanging on a final note before drifting off into silence. I wondered how long he'd been humming to me. A few minutes? Hours? I had no idea. It really depended on how long I'd been asleep, and whether or not he'd been humming the whole time.

"Gir," he spoke quietly. In a careful tone I hadn't heard from him before. "Please retrieve the rest of the blankets and pillows from the couch. I believe I left the pink sheet and the white, smaller pillow folded up at the edge of it."

"Okay!" Gir whispered, to my ever-growing shock. He giggled a few times, waving at me conspiratorially when I assumed Zim was not looking before darting off, to do as he was told.

Zim moved to the bed, where the rest of my blankets and pillows had been arranged. It looked incredibly appealing. I heard the sound of his legs extending from his PAK, pulling aside the top two blankets before gently laying me on the bed. I whimpered at the loss of warmth, more than half-asleep now. My eyes fluttered a bit, and I heard Zim sharply inhale before I let my eyelids droop again, still making faces in my half-sleep. After a few seconds I heard him sigh, relieved, and retract his legs. He pullde the blankets back up, placing them gently on my person. Instinctively, my legs curled up around myself, and I released the shivers from the lack of his body heat and my own unsatisfactory feverish one.

I could feel him watching me, trying to make a decision. During that time, I wondered if this was actually going to work.

It wasn't that I particularly wanted Zim to (literally) sleep with me. It was just that he was so damn comfortable, and his humming really was pretty soothing, to the point that I didn't want him to not be there. Also, I was sick, and I was pretty sure I was a bit delusional at this point, as there was a turmoil of color slurring behind my eyelids that was making me nauseous. I couldn't escape the slightly pitiful groan that escaped me as one of my eyes twitched. The last thing I wanted right now was a headache.

This, however, seemed to do it for Zim. With a sigh, and a suspicious rubbery-noise that I assumed was the removal of his boots, and a much heavier fluttering that was probably his jacket, I felt the bed jostle slightly. I was once again maneuvered into his arms, and somehow, I felt him get into a sitting position with me on his lap. I, however, was not even nearly as comfortable as before and immediately began squirming. Or, squirming as much as someone not fully awake could squirm.

Seeming to understand, Zim shifted me more to his side rather than cradled on his lap and I adjusted myself. Admittedly, it was a very couply position that we ended up in. My leg was hitched up to rest on his, just loose enough not to be like I was about to hug him. My other was straight out, aligning roughly next to the same leg my other was wrapped around. My head rested on the warmth radiating from his chest, as were my hands. His arm was wrapped around my shoulders, resting on my forearm to keep me in position.

This was comfort. Awkward as it probably looked.

I felt him turn to me slightly, and his hand ran through my hair for a second. I was momentarily bothered by the slightly intimate gesture, but was far too comfortable (and tired, for that matter) to really care. And then, his hand drifted towards my cheek, past, and came to rest at my chin, tilting it upwards, towards where I assumed his face was.

Immediately my eyes flickered open, blinking away the haze and drowsiness, or at least making an effort to. For a moment, Zim's face came into view. But it was not the expression I had been expecting.

He was glaring at me, like he suspected me of doing something. Like I'd just kicked his dog, and he'd heard it yelp, but he hadn't actually seen me do anything and so now was trying to get me to confess with his death-glare. My own flickered into lazy confusion. I yawned, my mouth opening wide, and the image of a cat doing the same thing came immediately into my minds-eye.

Like I said. Delusional.

"Zim?" I muttered, through my tiredness, on my hands twitching as it refused to move enough to let me wipe the sleep from my eyes.

His expression of suspicion disappeared immediately at the thickness of my voice. I wondered briefly what it was he had suspected me of trying to do, but I didn't have the energy to try and deduce the insane-logic that was Zim's head. His hand went back to my hair, letting me rest my head against him again, since I didn't have energy to keep looking at him.

"Go back to sleep, Gaz-human." He ordered, quietly. "Zim will help you, if you wish."

I yawned again and nodded against his chest, still trying to ignore how close we were in a bed. He was just so damned comfortable.

The humming started up again. And so close, practically laying on him, I could feel how it sent gentle vibrations through his chest that I had failed to notice. I'd assumed it was the motion from being moved. Zim's walking. It was every bit as soothing, however, and very soon, still aware of what might've been his hands running through my hair, I began drifting off again.

All I could think about was how awkward this was going to be when I woke up.

Immediately after, as my back muscles seemed to relax for what felt like the first time in ages, I decided I really didn't care.

It was, of course, at this time, that my mind began to wander. Despite the fact I hadn't managed to get a full, decent night of sleep in the past three days, I was suddenly restless. And not because of my less-than-comfortable (mentally, because I was physically comfortable as hell right now) position I was in with Zim right now. No, my mind seemed to have drifted to a whole new topic entirely that I had forgotten. Two eerily familiar words that refused to go away: Chemical List.

I resisted the urge to sit up and ask Zim anything else about that conversation we'd had, before I'd cut it short, for lack of interest. A Chemical List was required for any time of medication, right? Otherwise, you had no idea what you were consuming. And consumers had the right to have that type of information displayed on the product, even if it was rarely read. The point was that it was there, and accessible in size 5pt. font, right on the back of the stupid labels. It was like an ingredients list, but even the ingredients had ingredients. So why was I so intently curious about this?

I knew, but I was denying it, in favor of trying to go to sleep. But I knew I wasn't going to. Not with something like this running around in my head. My mind was trying to get me to think more about the crap my father had been trying (and previously had succeeded in) to pump into my systems. Something told me that even before I had lost my memory and had reason to be suspicious, I'd taken precautions. There was that instinctive feeling that somehow, I'd figured out what was inside. And that somewhere, I had a list that could tell me more about myself. But if I had a list like that, I'd want to hide it. My first instinct was in plain sight, which was ingenious, but stupid if you didn't have some sort of excuse for it lying around in equally plain sight.

If I had papers like that, where would I hide them? I wondered, inhaling deeply as Zim's talons drifted through my hair a couple times. As stupid as it sounded in my situation, the instinct to shy away from people touching me was engraved in my very core. Stupid? Oh yes, incredibly, that part was undeniable. But true? Also completely undeniable. There was only so much instinct exhaustion could suppress. Still, it felt . . . not unpleasant, but odd. Unfamiliar I guess, but definitely not bad. I wondered if this was how cats felt the first time they were pet before getting back on my previous topic.

If I wanted to hide a list like that from my dad, I'd probably make up the excuse that it was homework or something. Granted, I wouldn't put too much effort into it, but enough to make it look realistic. Like a rough-draft or something about a select few of the chemical's purposes or something. Just your average homework stuff. Nothing particularly suspicious.

I sighed again, feeling the chills start acting up again. There was only so much Zim's abnormal body heat could do, and I wasn't about to try and 'snuggle up' with him anymore than I already was, which was already pushing my boundaries as it was. Anything further was pretty much just out of the question completely. I could still feel his clawed hands (still covered by his gloves, of course) running through my hair but I was getting used to it. It was soothing, in its own unfamiliar way. I smiled at little.

So it would be hidden somewhere in homework, I amended. But more than likely at my house, buried in my old work somewhere in my room.

Well, I reasoned further, as I found the loophole out of thinking for the moment. Nothing I can do about it now.

I immediately felt myself drifting off.

Clearly, there was a God.

Unfortunately, my mind reminded me traitorously, as a last jab before I was out. You might just be working for him.

A remark which was totally unfair because I had no time to retort, as immediately afterwords I was asleep.

I knew she'd entered a deep sleep when she'd stopped fidgeting so much. A few short minutes later, Gir came trotting back into the room and I gestured for silence with my free hand, distangling it momentarily from her hair. He nodded vigorously, eyes flashing red a moment before climbing onto the edge of the bed and curling up, very much like an Earth-pet, and falling into his own version of sleep. Thankfully, he was silent, and I turned my attention back to Gaz.

This close, I could feel how warm she was getting through my gloves. I was tempted to remove one of the blankets, but unfamiliar with treating even common Earth-sicknesses, I didn't want to risk it. She'd mumbled something about 'her fever needing to break' earlier in her sleep, but she was so out of it I doubted even she remembered that brief conversation. If one could call a slurred mumble a conversation.

I stared up at my roof, wondering what ungodly creature had placed me in this situation. With the most dangerous creature that I had ever known hooked comfortably around my leg, half-lying on top of me in what I could only assume was blissful sleep as I stroked her hair. Granted, it sounded far more intimate than it actually was, but still. The point was there. Whatever creature had come up with the means sensible enough to land me in this position was either extremely clever, unnaturally cruel, borderline psychotic, or some odd mixture of the three. (2)

I sighed, turning my head to look at Gaz. Her face was flushed, adding natural color to her face. I smirked. It was admittedly kind of funny that her pale complexion would look normal only when she was feverishly ill. I'd had to make a note to throw that in her face at some later time, when I was positive that I had gotten all I wanted out of this existence or was in the position where I could disappear very, very quickly.

So of course it was during this hell-filled, conflicted bliss that I had to get the Dib-stink's call.

"Incoming Transmission from: Unknown Caller." My computer announced in a thankfully quiet voice.

One antenna of mine rose. Unknown caller? "Not the Dib-stink's number?"

"No. Unknown Caller."

My eyes narrowed. I adjusted my antennae into the proper headset, flicking one to accept the call. A beep rang out, and I wasn't entirely sure what to anticipate. For all I knew, I could be accepting a call from a galactic telemarketer who had somehow dialed my number, by some unknown cause.

". . . Hello?" I saw slowly, lowering my voice out of precaution.

"It's me." Dib's voice said in a quiet voice. Immediately I could hear the background voices; exactly what I anticipated from his call. He was probably in the Internet Cafe I had guessed he'd end up at, which was good, since I'd taken the time to block any trace on calls on that block.

I glanced down at Gaz, careful not to raise my voice. "Of course it is. I assume you want to know what happened?"

"Well no one else seems to be willing to tell me. I assume this call is safe?"

I scoffed. "If it wasn't, I wouldn't have answered. Are you ready to listen? I'm only going to say this once."

"I'm ready. Talk. What did my dad to to set you off?"

"In short, Dib-stink, the professor- er, your father announced that he'd been working on a new project recently. Something called C2-F."

"And you think that it has something to do with what's been happening with her?"

"I think it is her." I corrected, noting the lack of specifics used. At least he was smart enough not to speak plainly in public. "Think about it, stupid beast of meat; Gaz isn't human. She's never been human. Clearly, unless there was some sort of unlikely mutation while she was a fetus, Gaz is an experiment. Your father revealed that his latest project is some base-form of Angel that he built as a prototype to serve humanity."

"Okay, you lost me. That definitely doesn't sound anything like her."

"I have a theory about that. Her disgust with humanity drives her to fix the world around her."

"Seriously?"

"Well she trained you into what she considered tolerable. If it can work with the most defiant of humans, it can certainly work with the simplest."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Your choice, I suppose.

"So you're trying to say that she's -?"

"An Angel, yes. In theory. Although I've been looking up more information on what your religions base the Angel opinion on. It mostly revolves around your Catholic and Christian religions. However, I believe the professor has the upper hand when it comes to how he designed your sister's personality. None of my research has ever found a direct statement on an Angel's personality. I believe you associate them far too much with how a St. should act. As far as I've seen, Angels are supposedly born in Heaven. They have no reasons to justify being there."

"What's your point?"

"Well hypothetically, if we were to try to understand Membrane's thinking, Angels should therefore be the worst inhabitants of Heaven, not the most, well, delightful, I suppose. They're probably the most ambitious, if anything. Gaz fits exactly that theoretical persona; ambitious, smart, manipulative-."

"I can see why religion and science have never gotten along. The amount of controversy this theory alone would spurn is ridiculous. If this had been a couple centuries ago, I think you'd have a war on your hands."

I resisted the urge to shrug. "This is not my problem. The important thing is, your father is coming out with his project. While he may not have revealed the actual subject yet, I believe that hiding Gaz from him is currently the most logical thing we could do in terms of safety."

"I agree. How is she, by the way? Still sick?"

"Considerably." I replied, glancing down at her form. Geez, Gaz really slept like a rock when she was tired. "Nothing is getting worse, mind you. She's currently asleep, but when she wakes up again, I'll have Gir grab her some sick-people things she wants."

"If you need me to, I can grab some stuff at the store and leave it somewhere."

"Too suspicious. It's more than likely your being followed, Dib-stink. Leave anything anywhere, and someone is going to want to know why. By the way, how did you manage to call me on an unknown number? Where is your cell phone?"

". . . I, er, borrowed one." He said, suddenly uncomfortable.

My antennae twitched, resisting the urge to bend out of form. "Borrowed?" And suddenly I got it, a wicked grin flashing across my face. "Do you mean you stole it?"

His embarrassed silence was all I needed to know.

I laughed, trying to keep myself quiet and my chest from moving too much. "Oh, this is rich. The self-produced worthless meat-hero is stealing from his own pathetic race. I can't wait to tell your sister. I'm sure she'll be proud."

"Oh, shut up!" He snapped. "Do you want me to give you a list of crap to get for Gaz so she can have them when she wakes up?"

I stifled my snickering enough to talk. "Such as?"

"You got a pen?"

"I've got a brain."

"That's debatable. And so what?"

"It's called memorization, filthy Dib-monkey. Maybe if your kind used your meaty-knowledge-sources more often there'd actually be hope for you, and your father wouldn't need to design whole new species to help."

"Cough drops," Dib began, ignoring my insults. "Ginger ale, saltine crackers. You should probably grab water bottles. Tylenol and Advil, if she has a headache."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing that really comes to mind. Soup. Jello. Just something light to eat, if she's up to it."

"Very well. I'll have Gir get it." As I said this I kicked my free leg, knocking him off the bed to make him up, since I was otherwise detained. "Your sister is worried about you, Dib-monkey. She asked me to tell you to be careful."

"She did?"

"In her own way," I replied. I knew Dib understood, imagined the nod and the roll of the eyes that the Dib-stink so habitually did when it came to thoughts of his sister. "But I understand why, Dib. Membrane specifically said CF-2. Two, Dib. As in the second."

". . . You think that I might be . . .?"

"It's a theory she came up with," I informed him. "One I'd advise you to take into serious consideration."

"Yeah . . . um, right. I'll keep that in mind."

"She also asked that you be removed from your father for safety. So at some point, I'm probably going to have to come get you. Have a small, inconspicuous bag waiting in case I find an opening to just grab you and run."

"Well, I mean, I know where you are. If I find an opening, I can always just take off and run there."

"We're not going to be staying here long, Dib-stink. That would be stupid. I'm having a base set up in a remote area that I'll be transferring your sister to. If all goes well, you'll be going with us, and I can easily hide both of you there while I function in society, appearing to have nothing to do with your disappearance. I might even get you off the planet entirely, if I decide it necessary. My base orbiting Earth does still work, after all."

"Wow. Paranoid, much?"

"I prefer cautious." I retorted, curtly, watching Gir try and climb back on the bed without dropping his rubber-piggy. "Either way, come here and you won't find us. Aside from Gir's passage, this base is all but on lock-down."

"Alright. Well, you have my cell and probably have hacked my e-mail several times. If you need anything, I'm sure you can figure out how to get a hold of me."

"Will do. And make sure not to go looking for us, Dib-stink. Whatever you do, worry about yourself. Your sister is in capable hands."

"I know. Are you sure that you're capable of dealing with this by yourself? I mean, I know you're smart, Zim, but so much one-on-one with you and Gaz, I think that-."

"I'll be fine, Dib-stink." I snapped, glancing down at Gaz immediately at his insinuations. If only Dib knew what position Gaz had gotten both of us into at the moment. "Like I said. Just worry about yourself and await further instructions."

And unable to deal with him anymore, I flicked my antennae out of position, thus freeing them and hanging up at the same time. I sighed, closing my eyes a moment before letting them drift back to Gaz.

It was true, what I said about the house, in a remote area. It was about as remote as you could get while staying on this planet, as I didn't want to risk taking Gaz into the atmosphere of space until I absolutely had to. In her weakened state, she could become susceptible to the side-effects humans had with long-term exposure outside of their atmosphere. True, Gaz was not human, and so I really wasn't entirely positive she'd react negatively, but I couldn't afford to take any chances. If something happened to her, the Dib-stink would never let it go, and I probably wouldn't be able to find it in me to forgive myself.

I scowled as I watched Gir dart off, after he'd been given instructions on what to get for Gaz. Things were really becoming far too dramatic for my tastes. Simplicity didn't seem to be a luxury I came into contact with very often anymore.

(1) Untrue. I know a melody that can put anyone to sleep or make them extremely anxious, depending on the pitch and tempo. I am simply that awesome.

(2) I'll take that as a compliment.

The stage has been set, but not all the secrets revealed. We know why Membrane did what he did, and what species Gaz is. However, we're not sure what she's capable of, or really what makes her different from humans. She certainly looks like a human, right?

Either way, you'll have to wait. Things are about to go for precarious to bad.

SQUEAL BECAUSE GAZ IS BASICALLY CUDDLING WITH ZIM! I ORDER YOU TO SQUEAL THIS INSTANT!

At any rate, I have yet to receive fanart. Yeah, I've been making it for myself (which is posted on my wall), but come on guys! I'm waiting!

Either way, shits about to go down.

I'm aware of the controversial nature that my story's theme is beginning to head towards, with the Angels and all. I'm a Confirmed Catholic, and am aware people might get insulted by Zim's research and the scientific approach everyone has been taking to it. But really, please, keep your opinions to yourself if you're insulted. Frankly, I don't give a damn, and if you want to start a debate with me, prepare to lose. You've seen what my characters do, and that's in plain situations.

I'd advice you not to mess with their creator.

Thank you for your lack of opinion.

Until the next chapter.