***

If there was one thing Zim took pride in anymore was his impeccable ability to maintain his cool. He liked to think he had matured enough to be able to deal with the often crazy and intolerable twists and turns his life seemed to revel going in.

After about an hour of searching failed to detail any explanation into the whereabouts of Gaz, Zim feared he was going to lose hold on that last good grip on that which he sought pride in.

Not at work and she wasn't at home. Zim had taken the liberty of conducting a 'home invasion' and discovered the Membrane home to be quite deserted. Not even the professor was in which in it of itself wasn't so unusual.

Feeling at a loss, Zim wandered passed Gaz's empty room and the one next to hers, which long ago had been converted into a guest room. Of course, they never HAD any guests, which made its existence and use questionable.

He made pause to peer at the golden fish swimming around in its bowl. "Now which one are you? Tak the Fifth or Tak the Sixth?" he said to the large eyed orangey yellow creature. I'm talking to a fish, he shook his head. Beside the goldfish bowl was a telephone and small white machine.

What was it called? An answering machine? Wait, there's a button. Zim stared hard at the letters, trying to figure them out. "Play back mess-a-ges," he dragged it out. "Oh!" He hit it. Maybe this would give him an idea.

"Hi, Gaz, this is grandma. I know we haven't talked in a long time so I just thought to give you a call. Take care, m'bye."

"She has a grandmother?" Zim murmured. He didn't know that. It made sense. Gaz hardly talked about her family.

"Professor Membrane, those samples you ordered came in. I don't know what you wanted us to do with them. I know you're probably already here anyway when you get this but I just wanted to give you an FYI. Bye."

Zim made a noise of disgust. There were a lot of reasons he didn't like to voice but Gaz's father irked him to no end.

The next message made him grab both sides of the table.

"Hello, Professor Membrane, this is Doctor Hal from General Hospital. Your daughter, Gaz Membrane was admitted to the ER last night around 11:23 p.m. with a severely fractured collarbone. She was unconscious when she was brought in and became conscious shortly thereafter. I've been trying to get a hold of you since she was admitted but you returned none of my calls. Due to the severity of the injury, she needs to be kept for a week at least. Please come as soon as possible. Your daughter has requested to see you repeatedly. If you need to reach me, I'm at (387) 182-3737."

"It WAS her!" Zim shouted to no one in particular. "I knew it!" His boot came into contact with the table, jarring it enough so that some of the water in the fishbowl sloshed over and landed on his arm. "OW!" He grabbed at it and clenched his teeth together. "Shit."

Trying to ignore the burning pain, Zim left the house. He paused at the end of the walkway, scratching his wig. "Hmm, I wonder where the hospital is?" he wondered out loud. Helplessly he looked around and spotted a young boy of about thirteen playing basketball in his driveway next door. He had carrot colored hair.

What the heck.

"Hey you," Zim approached the boy. "What's your name?"

The boy caught the ball and was about to throw it again. He lowered it when he saw the Irken approach him. "Roy. Hey, I know you. You're that alien my babysitter used to chase."

Babysitter? Zim didn't have a clue what this boy was talking about. He couldn't bother to ask about it. "Sure whatever. Do you know how to reach the hospital?"

"Sure." Roy put the ball down and kicked it into his garage. "Want me to show you?"

"That would be a help."

Roy grinned. "Cool. Oh but wait, I have to take my sister with us. Would that be a problem?"

"No."

The human went into the house through a door in the garage and yelled. "Ann!" Pause. "C'mere!" Another pause. "Because I have to go somewhere and you have to come with me . . . No, don't worry, it'll be here when you get back . . ." Roy glanced over his shoulder at the impatient alien. "Sorry. It's hard to get her to put a book down."

Ann appeared. She looked about nine or ten. She had dark red hair, which she kept in a long braid. Spying Zim, she squealed, "Oh it's the alien! Neato."

"Neato?" Zim repeated, more than slightly confused. He had no idea who these human children were nor had he ever met them. How did they know who he was? They also knew what he was, much to his surprise. Neither seemed particularly disturbed by it either.

Roy sensed his confusion and explained. "Dib used to baby-sit us when we were little. We heard a lot about you, naturally."

Okay, that made sense. Suddenly Zim glanced at the young girl. "Your name is Ann?"

She nodded, smiling. She was a really cute little thing. "Yep." Looking him up and down she made a bald assessment. "You're really tall."

"Uh, thanks." Honestly he didn't know what to do with small human children. Especially this girl who stared at him in wide-eyed fascination. Both of them did, the girl more so than her brother.

"A lot taller than you used to be," Roy chimed in. "Oh well, I guess aliens ain't all that different from humans in that department."

Zim peered at him suspiciously. "How is it that you two know so much about me?"

"I told you, Dib talked about you." Roy kicked a rock into the street gutter. "Plus we see you hang out with Gaz a lot."

"She's pretty," Ann piped up. "One time she had really long hair. Like that!" She touched her back halfway down the middle. "But then she cut it."

Zim thought a moment. "So you know I'm an alien?"

They both nodded.

"Dib never said anything about you. I didn't think there was anyone else like him."

Roy smiled sadly. "Yeah. The poor guy never had any credibility so what were the beliefs of two children for him?" The kid shrugged. "It might've helped him, you know. I think he was just too ashamed of himself to drag us through the mud even if it wound up making him look good."

Ann sighed. "He was so cute." She lowered her voice and whispered to Zim in what she thought a whisper, "I kissed him once!"

"Puh-leeze. It was on the cheek," Roy interjected dryly. "And you were only four, Annabelle." He looked at the alien. "Okay, listen." The boy pointed down the corner. "Keep going in that direction. The hospital is just to the right of the interstate. It's a big brick building, you can't miss it."

"I don't plan to." Zim walked on ahead. "Um, thanks." He paused and looked back at these children. These strange children from Dib's past who had loved the boy unconditionally. They even knew Zim was an alien and hadn't thought twice about it. Why hadn't Dib ever mentioned them? The answer came easily. The old Zim would have found a way to use these innocent children against him, tapping into their place in the boy's heart as a weakness. They had been one of the many secrets Dib had had to guard ferociously.

What a horrible life. Zim headed in the direction of the hospital without watching the children turn around and go back home. Having to keep his allies in secret and his sickness from his own sister. Dib had had so many burdens, so much that he'd wanted to share with someone.

Even me. His worst enemy. Underneath that maddening obsession to expose Zim to humanity, there had lurked a part of him that wanted a friend.

We didn't even give each other a chance.

The hospital appeared.

Zim took a deep breath. Please. He couldn't live through this again. Gaz was everything. If he didn't have her, Zim knew on this planet there was nothing else he had left.

***

That Evening . . . . . . . . .

Her father came.

Gaz and Bella were in the middle of talking. Or rather, Bella was talking and Gaz was just listening. She didn't mind listening, Bella had so much to say and each topic came attached with its own fascination. Bella Lopez was an artist who originally came from Mexico when she was only five years old. She married an American painter and settled in the shabbiest part of the city where walking at night was a public health risk. Not that she minded, the apartment they lived in was beautiful and clean. The deck view of the city was spectacular, providing many landscaping opportunities. When not painting, she worked for a company that sold copy machines. Her favorite past times included shopping, knitting and raising gerbils.

"Gerbils?" Gaz repeated. "That sounds like a strange hobby." As compared to what? Chasing UFOs? Video games? I sure know how to shut myself up.

Bella only smiled. "Mean little suckers but cute as hell. Want one? Mine just had a litter."

"No thank you," Gaz replied. "My goldfish is a handful."

They laughed.

Tap. Tap.

Crap. Gaz rolled her eyes. "Oh no, don't be another doctor." If that's another doctor I'm taking this needle out of my arm and putting it through his eye. Then I'm going to laugh evilly, pointing at him while he screams.

A familiar goggle-faced man with a scythe wearing a white lab coat with a pushed up collar poked his head in. "Hello? Is this Gaz's room?"

Gaz raised her good arm. "Right here, Dad." With her father, you had to gesture when you spoke to get his attention or you didn't exist.

Bella smiled cordially at him and got up. "Hello, Professor Membrane."

The Professor stared at Bella until she stuck out her hand. Slowly he shook her hand. "Hello."

Gaz bit her bottom lip. Yep. Smitten on sight. Dad needed to get out more often.

Bella finished shaking the man's hand and turned back to Gaz. "See you kid."

"Bye Bella."

After Bella left, the feared and dreadful awkwardness filled the room. Gaz had mentally been preparing for something like this so she built up a wall so it left no room for all those feelings of disappointment she wouldn't be feeling.

The Professor tried with what he was good at, a friendly opener. "Well, I see you're doing well."

Doing well? Nice joke, Dad. Gaz didn't reply.

He cleared his throat and parked it in Bella's chair. "Um, how is . . .what did you break?"

"My collarbone. I didn't break it, someone else did." Okay, I'm letting that pass on account I'm so gauzed up you can't tell WHAT got broken.

"Ah yes. They were arrested." Membrane nodded, trying to remember everything he'd been briefed upon. "I heard what you did for that woman, um . . ."

"Bella."

"Bella," he finished. "That was. . . well, that was brave."

Gaz shrugged with her hands. "Anyone would've done it."

Membrane sat quietly, trying like hell to think of something to say to his daughter. Frankly he had no idea. He didn't even know her really and that was in deepest inner shame.

"Um," Gaz began, saving him the trouble. "How long ago did you find out?"

"Just this morning. Your doctor left a message on the answering machine."

Gaz frowned. "If you knew about me all day, why didn't you come right away?"

"I had to work."

Had to work, had to work, had to work. Instead of nodding passively like she used to do all the time. Instead of bowing under the spoken-as-if-on-high phrase 'the world needs me.' Instead of accepting the excuse it was putting a roof over her head and food on her table, Gaz did something else. She did something else entirely.

"I'm more important than work, Daddy."

Membrane kind of sat back in his seat. It scraped softly over the floor. These were the only two signs of his astonishment.

Gaz went on. "I'm more important than test tubes, beakers and chemical formulas written on blackboards. I could have been murdered, Daddy. Have you ever thought of that?"

He had. But he only nodded.

"You have?" Gaz faked astonishment. "Oh my God, I'm over in a barrel. Come on!" She quit the act. "I'm the last thing you think about when you leave the house. Or, I'm the only thing you don't think about when you leave the house."

"I think about you." Membrane wanted to tell his daughter she was all he ever talked about in the lab but he afraid she wouldn't believe him. In fact he knew for certain she wouldn't believe him.

"Sure as hell act like it." Gaz was in no mood to be sympathetic or gentle. She longed to hurt him, really hurt him in all the ways she'd suffered yet she held back. Don't kick a man when he's down. Don't kick a man when he's down. "I'm in a lot of pain right now."

Membrane started to rise from his chair. "I'll get the nurse . . ."

"No." She gave an inward shiver. "I can take it."

"Honey . . ."

Why's he using pet names all of a sudden? "The drugs they use make me sleepy and I've slept enough for three people. I'm got a morphine line right here anyway." Gaz elevated her bed. If she lay down too long, her chest would tighten and breath became too hard to draw. She stretched out her hand to him. "Stay, okay? Please?"

Slowly her father sat down again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"All right." Membrane leaned forward and looked at the floor. He looked nervous.

Gaz desperately wanted her father to do what came naturally to fathers. Kiss on the cheek. Hold her hand. Half-assed hug. SOMETHING. Gaz tried to encourage him by extending her hand again. Seeing it, her father tentatively took it. He appeared to relax when a residual smile came to her face.

"It's not that hard, Dad."

Membrane let go after a minute or two. Say it like it is. One of us is dying to and it might as well be me. "I'm not a good father, Gaz."

She wanted to deny it like any daughter would have. But she couldn't. It was the truth. So rather than speaking, she only nodded reluctantly.

"Aside from your statistics and exam scores, I don't even know what your favorite color is."

"It's purple. Want to know anything else?" Gaz refused to make this into a heartfelt experience. "Like what was I doing out in an abandoned oil refinery in the middle of the night? Or, hey, do you even know I have a job?"

He looked up. "You have a job?"

"Yes. I work at the café near the place where Bella was attacked. I was picking up my paycheck. But of course, you wouldn't know that."

"How could I, you never . . ." Membrane paused. "You did, didn't you?"

"Several times. Do those little sticky notes 'At work. Be back at 10' mean anything to you?" His daughter shook her head. "Dad, I've been standing at the threshold to the kitchen telling you all the pivotal shit that's been going on in my life for the past six to seven years and you never even bothered to turn around."

Struck, her father only lowered his head.

"There's a lot about me you don't know, Dad. A lot your brain probably wouldn't even be able to handle." Gaz kept her voice steady. "I smoked from fourteen to fifteen and quit cold turkey the following year. I got mono in tenth grade and missed a lot of skool. If Zim hadn't brought me my homework, I would've had to repeat the whole damn year. Oh and did you know, I'm not even a virgin?"

Membrane jumped to his feet. Finally he knew what to say. "Enough. I get the picture, okay?"

Gaz waved it aside. She was sorry she'd mentioned anything. Her mouth had gotten away from her. Once the leak gets sprung, it's hard to stop it up again. "If I didn't tell you, you wouldn't have even have known anything happened to me. I'm just there. Taking up space while you do more important things."

There was an explosion and Membrane found his tongue. "Honey, I'm sorry. I'm not the father you deserve. You probably even hate me. Considering your condition it DOESN'T surprise me." He stopped and sighed. "You don't think I have feelings?" He made a fist, concentrating his anger into it. "Well, I can't afford to! I'm a scientist and scientists must remain detached!"

Gaz was aghast. "You can't afford to love me?"

The professor lowered his fist. "That wasn't supposed to come out that way."

"Well, it did."

Membrane couldn't take this anymore. He started to back toward the door. "I'm sorry. I wish I could make it up to you but I . . ."

Gaz panicked. "Please don't leave, Dad! Please!" The pain was coming back.

Professor Membrane gazed at his daughter, trying to find the answer in what he considered a superior and intelligent mind. Trying to find some way of saying and doing something to prove to his only child he loved her despite everything to the contrary. The horrible blank he came up with frightened him, dismayed him. Shamed him. Rather than expose himself for the disgraceful, bitter man he was before his daughter, Membrane opened the door and left. The cries of his daughter behind him went unheeded.

Alone again, Gaz closed her eyes. In the few short years of her life she'd lost her mother, her brother and now she'd lost her father. Sure, he wasn't six feet under but he was buried in his work. Hiding from his grief. Hiding from his guilt. Hiding from his daughter.

Then a sudden, violent realization came to her.

I've lost my family. I've lost my whole goddamned family.

Oh Jesus. She couldn't take the pain anymore. Gaz grabbed the morphine IV and squeezed it.

***

Zim couldn't get into the hospital during the daylight hours nor did he try to hassle in by visitors' hours. Ridiculous, these visiting hours. How dare medical professionals deign how long a patient ought to see the people he or she wanted to see? What if seeing a person at any given time contributed to a patient's recovery and the deprivation of this visitor made he or she even sicker? Downright absurd the human way of running things. Just because he had lived on Earth for almost seven years didn't mean he fell in love with the entirety of human culture.

No matter. Not many humans did either so being an alien made him no exception to the rule.

So he waited for the hospital to 'close' for the night before sprouting spider legs and go wall crawling outside the building. Before he'd went ahead with his plan, he found out what floor she was being kept on, what room and which outside window was hers. Not all of this information had been easy to obtain either. Most of the hospital personnel were put off by his eccentric behavior (and not, he realized, his green skin color and lack of ears) and refused to divulge even a smidgeon of information. Rather than threatening and making the usual scene, he pulled the information from their computers using an Irken device made especially for draining information from primitive technology. All he did was put it on the palm of his hand and place it atop a terminal. Of course, he'd had to invent a reason for standing there with his claw in one place. (It took approximately three minutes for the procedure to finish).

The nurse had been pretty. So while the thing did its draining, Zim put the biggest bit of play-acting he'd ever played on. He'd flirted with her.

He shuddered in disgust thinking about it. Ugh. If it was enough he already decided to treat humans as equals, it was too much when he started taking on some of their rituals. But what could he have done? He'd panicked and it was one of those it's-so-insane-you-know-it'll-work kind of plans that usually jumped out of his brain at any given time.

Unfortunately its pay-off was a little too successful. The nurse had just eaten up his attention and when the device vibrated to indicate it was finished, he quickly removed his hand, issued a, "Nice talking to you, like the white napkin thing on your head, have a nice day, bye," and got out of there fast.

"Note to self, don't EVER flirt with human females again," he muttered peeking into a darkened window from his upside down position. Frustrated, he donned a pair of night vision optics from his pak and tried again.

"Wrong room."

He moved to the next dark window. Peeked. Nothing.

"I don't understand!" he grumbled angrily. "My calculations projected that this was her floor! The hospital blueprint I drew from the computer even said so! Are they meaning to tell me they do not update even their own data? Is that stupid or WHAT?!"

He caught himself and grinned. Sometimes it just felt good pretending he was better than humans. It sure kept his ego alive.

"Okay," he exhaled crawling insect-like to the third window. "If she is not in this room, I will do . . . something destructive. Maybe make something explode. Yeah."

He looked in and scanned the darkness. Chair, bathroom, bed . . . okay there's a person in the bed. A vague shape of a girl. He hit Zoom. "YES!" It was her.

Stealthily, he got the locked window open (no human structure on earth had yet to keep him out) and slipped in. Landing lightly on his spider legs, they lowered him gracefully to the floor and put him steady on two feet. They folded straight up in the air and got sucked back in his pak. He stretched once and rubbed his neck. Damn, he really needed to get out more. Even doing this mild physical sneaking activity had taken a lot out of him.

Maybe I'm finally getting old. Zim was older than a lot of Irkens of his size and it was coming around the time things weren't going to be working in perfect order. Being a 'mistake' had something to do with it too. But the most logical cause was he'd been away from Irk for a long time and hadn't gotten a routine medical exam. He was long overdue for one.

Ah well. No one lives forever.

Laying it all aside, Zim quietly approached Gaz's bed. Whilst he did, he removed his wig and contacts. He'd long discovered she didn't like his disguise and often when they spoke alone, she'd absently pull his wig off and throw it in his face. "What are you trying to be, Elvis?" she'd tease him and play at poking him in the eye.

She's sleeping.

Zim pulled up the chair to her beside and perched there. It's all he meant to do, sit there and just be with her. So often she kept her head turned from him while they spoke, Zim rarely got to appreciate a full eye-contact conversation. Now in the vulnerability of sleep, he could view her without that conscious awkwardness.

It was hard not to feel sorry for her. Her skin was more pallid than usual, her purple hair lay limply around her head, the strands framing her face dark from sweat. There were circles under her eyes. Her good right arm was attached to an IV drip and a morphine line. The other arm was bound around her collarbone and under in a heavy bandage. So thick it was, one had to look closely at her nostrils to make sure she was still breathing. Gaz looked like she belonged in a hospital. She looked that awful.

Gently he reached over and slipped his hand beneath her limp one. Turning it over in his own, he marveled at how small human hands really were. Delicate too. Humans were the most delicate creatures yet they were so adaptive and their bodies could take a beating and drag itself out of the dark hole of death.

He ran his finger along the soft skin of her wrist to the center of the palm; his mind unconsciously recalling the single night where action and consequence mattered little. What still amazed him she didn't seem to care that he was from another world. Perhaps their own science fiction fantasies had something to do with it. Or those dubious alien abductions Dib used to love preaching about when he'd still been alive. There'd been one occasion Dib had been ranting at him. Getting carried away, Dib had gone off on an accusatory tangent that Zim eventually figured out had nothing to do with him specifically. Still it stuck in his mind.

"It's your fault, Zim!" Dib shouted. "You MADE me this way!"

The Irken smacked both palms on the cafeteria table. "I did no such thing! Why would I create some stink-monkey like you to bother me?!"

"To see what would happen!" Dib kept going on. "That's all you and you sick aliens do is experiment on people! You took me when I was a baby and you did stuff to me! What kind of animals are you, huh? HUH?!"

Zim noticed they were gathering a crowd. "Dib, I told you I did nothing to you! I have no time to listen to your petty grievances!"

"You better because it's YOUR fault!" Dib started backing away. "It's all YOUR fault and that's why I'm going to win this Zim! Because you did this to ME!"

Zim shook his head, dislodging the memory. Why don't I have any good memories? Of anything at all? He reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of her face. He smiled as he remembered doing that the last time he watched her sleep. Just before he'd gone to the graveyard. Her face was still and peaceful like it was now. Dreamless.

Sometimes he wondered why she wanted to forget what happened between them as badly as she claimed. Intellectually he knew and understood. He just felt it wasn't fair. He ached to share that experience with her, to have her understand what it had been like and maybe then she would have liked it. Maybe then she wouldn't have regretted it.

Now Zim did not think Gaz was beautiful (although she was). Nor did he think she was ugly. Her looks had nothing to do with how he felt about her. It was just everything. Her mind, the way she spoke, her gestures, mannerisms and even her cynical outlook on life. He'd always appreciated those qualities before and it wasn't before long he was able to connect the dots between her reactions to him and his to her. He hadn't been sure how to act on these feelings until Gaz showed him. It didn't make the world better, he reasoned. But it was at last something where two lonely people could forget about being alone for a little while.

Her eyes opened. Before they did, a slight crease drew her eyebrows together as she sensed a presence. Her amber colored eyes moved around the room, reorienting themselves in their surroundings. They fixed on him. Unable to help it, he smiled at her.

She cleared her throat. "Zim," she spoke quietly. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard what happened and I came to see you," he replied. "Look, I know it's not regular visitor's hours but Zim refuses to be constrained by petty little rules." A beat. "How are you?"

"Very light-headed. I think I overdid it with the morphine a little." Gaz kind of chuckled. "Everything's sort of on the fuzzy side." Pause. "Did anyone see you?"

He shook his head proudly.

"Excellent." Gaz's eyes cast down and she saw their hands together. "Zim."

"Oh." He pretended to remember and took his hand away. "Sorry."

Gaz wrinkled her nose. Don't bother. "My dad came."

Zim didn't hold his breath. He waited.

Gaz closed her eyes for a second and then opened them again. "I told him some things. I really laid into him, Zim. He didn't take it too well. I think I might've been too harsh."

"What's too harsh for HIM?" Zim didn't think so. "Whatever you said, he deserved it. With him sugarcoating the truth doesn't work. He's sort of like me. If you don't tell it to me straight, I have no idea."

"No, Zim, he knew it. I just threw it in his face." She stopped and thought. "I don't feel guilty. I just feel like nothing lost and nothing gained. In fact, I kind of expected that he'd bottle up and run."

Zim shook his head. "He's too scared of his demons to face them."

Sadly, Gaz nodded. She licked her lips and turned her cheek. Her eyes were troubled. "My family's dead, Zim." It came out blunt. "When my mother died, it started. Mom had been our gravity, our core. When she was gone, all three of us broke off. Dib threw heart, body and soul into the paranormal, I found oblivion in video games and my father found respite in his work. It worked as first a grieving tool and then it suddenly became the way of life. Dib and I used to be really close, Zim. He was more sensitive than I was and things that didn't bother me affected him deeply. If the tiniest little thing bugged him, he came and told me about it. When it started to sound more and more crazy to me, I found myself drawing away from him. Dib became desperate when he realized he was losing me. So even though I drowned myself in my GS2, he kept sticking by me. I hated being around him. God, sometimes I really wanted to hurt him. One time, it was a few weeks before he got killed, I became so angry with him I grabbed his throat." Gaz felt her face get hot. She had never told anyone about this. "It was only for a second and I let go. He just stared at me in disbelief. I wanted to apologize but I couldn't say anything."

Gaz paused for a long time. "Then," she began slowly. "He started yelling at me and crying at the same time. While he did it he grabbed me and held me like he wanted to hurt me. He really wanted to, Zim. But all he did was let me go. Then that's when I knew it." Gaz sighed. "Zim, I can tell you one thing about Dib. He may have promised you death but he never would have given it to you. I read it in his journal. If it had come right down to the final battle, he would've hesitated."

"Not me." Zim spoke for the first time since Gaz had began talking. "Well, actually, yes. I'd give him a little spiel about how pathetic he was and THEN I'd do him in. During which he'd probably find some way to get away. We had been good adversaries but we were pretty stupid about trying to kill each other."

Gaz gave a little smile. A real one. "Thank God for that."

They laughed quietly.

"So," Zim began after a shared silence. "I'm glad you're okay. I got scared it was going to be like last time." He looked away when he said it. "Guess being a hero comes naturally to you Membranes, huh?"

Gaz moved her hand over his and laced their fingers together. "I got lucky."

Zim glanced at their hands and then at her. "Gaz, I think we both need to talk about this."

"About what? Being a hero?"

"No. About THIS," he pointed between himself and her. "We need to talk about THIS."

Oh no. Gaz feigned confusion. "This?"

Zim scooted closer. "Yes."

"W-Why?"

"BECAUSE," Zim emphasized through gritted teeth. "Maybe you humans can handle your sexual urges but I CAN'T. I don't know what you and I did did to me but since it happened I can't stop thinking about you. EVER." He growled and put both fists to the sides of his head. "I tried to respect your wishes and by talking about it now I'm violating them but I can't - I can't LIVE like this and being around you and pretending it didn't happen is driving me insane."

Gaz remained silent. Her eyes were glassy and it took a long time for her to speak. "Maybe . . ." she faltered for a second and then pressed on. "Maybe we shouldn't . . . see each other anymore."

"What?"

Gaz felt like she was tearing something out of herself. "If being around me is hurting you that much, maybe you shouldn't be around me."

"Huh?"

Either he's playing dumb or doesn't understand. She tried to reword it again. "Let's stop being friends."

"WHAT?!"

Okay, now he got it.

Zim dug his claws into the bed sheets and glared at her. "No. We don't have to go THAT far."

Gaz sat up a little more. "It's better if we do a total cut off. Listen, Zim, I understand what you're going through and sometimes it's better to get away from the pain. The only reason any of this happened was because my brother died. I've thought about it. That's all that keeps you and me together. That's all that hangs over us. Every second." Gaz took a deep breath. "We have to let him die, Zim. My brother isn't alive anymore and we shouldn't be torturing ourselves over something neither of us had any control over. It's time it had an end."

Zim stood back from the bed for a moment, simple disbelief written on his features. "But Gaz . . . I . . . "

"Please, Zim." Gaz begged. "I want to be happy again. I want to live again."

Zim knelt by her bed and grabbed her hand up. "No . . . I'm not hearing this." There were tears standing in his blood red eyes. "Gaz . . ." his voice got small, "don't do this."

Gaz was finding it harder and harder not to cry herself. "Zim."

He looked up.

"I love you."

He buried his face in his hands and turned away. He felt her hand touch him on the arm. With an effort he lifted his head and met her eyes. She was sitting all the way up now without help from the bed. Her hand traveled up and touched his cheek. He rose and touched her face and brought her mouth to his. She moaned and slipped her good arm around him.

A few minutes later Gaz was alone in her hospital room. The window was open, allowing the night air to fill the room.

Sleep did not come for a long time.