A/Note: Wow, it's been awhile since I updated, hasn't it? Thanks a lot to
all of you who've reviewed this! And Mysterious Dr. X…. well, you asked for
it! Uh, angsty guilt-tripping does count as showing you care about your
family, right? As for Dib's "insanity"… I'm not sure yet if that'll enter
into it more fully, lol. Well anyway, here we go again..
Chapter Six: The Revelation of Membrane
Splash. Another chemical reaction. Another unforeseen interaction. Another failure.
Blast it all.
Professor Membrane sighed much more heavily than a man whom the world believed infallible should have been capable of. It was all his fault. He had done this to an innocent little girl, why couldn't he undo it? He reached up slowly and pulled the goggles away from his eyes, then purposefully removed the thick rubber gloves. Finally the heavily starched, perfectly bleached lab coat was cast off. With all his physical shielding, the trappings of the great and glorious "Professor Membrane, the man without whom this world falls into CHAOS!!" gone, he stood there alone in his laboratory; a tall, thin man now revealed wearing black, that none of his legions of fans would recognize as their idol, blinking in the suddenly uncomfortably bright light.
He sighed again and walked up the stairs. Thus far, the quest to find a way to chemically subdue the elements he and his late wife had used to give Gaz her abilities had been completely useless. There was always some reaction that would almost certainly prove fatal or excruciatingly painful for the girl. The girl? His daughter.
He walked slowly through the house, taking in the everyday sights that his children saw so often but he barely recognized. How long had there been so many things in the house that looked like him? Lamps, trash cans…? He shook his head in confusion as he passed through the living room. Few pictures of their family adorned the walls, he noticed suddenly. Mostly, it was newspaper clippings and images of himself standing with famous figures from across the globe that filled the frames he passed as he traveled up the stairs and down the hall.
First on the tour came Gaz's room. The flick of a light switch revealed little he didn't already know. At least, at first sight. He strode carefully, almost cautiously into the room, taking in the messy, unmade bed, the stacks of video game magazines, the neatly sorted cartridges that lined her shelf. A lone plush toy sat on top, keeping guard on the trove. He reached to pick it up, struggling to place the nagging memory that it whispered to him.
He almost dropped the toy as it suddenly came back to him. Gaz's second birthday. A touring carnival had been in town and she (with some help from Dib) had successfully begged him into taking them for an afternoon's distraction. She'd seen this stuffed dragon, with its green body and purplish wings, sitting in a game booth and had fallen in love. With, as he'd explained to both entranced children, a perfect balance of inertia and thrust coupled with his perfect knowledge of physics to aid in deciphering precisely where to strike the stack of obviously weighted milk bottles, he'd won it for Gaz. She had smiled so gratefully that tears could be seen shimmering in her eyes.
"Thank you, Daddy! I love him! I'll keep him always…" And so far, it seemed, she had. In such perfect condition that the creature looked as if it had come home only yesterday.
As he moved to replace the animal… he knew for a fact that it had a name, but found to his consternation that he couldn't place it at the moment, back on its spot on the shelf, he knocked over a stack of periodicals that had been nudged aside by his boot. Beneath the issues of "Gaming Gore Monthly" and "High Scorer's Digest", he saw something that amazed him even more than the stuffed dragon had. Setting the now forgotten toy down, he knelt to inspect the books that had been scattered on the floor. Large volumes of Poe, Dickens and Kipling gazed up at him disdainfully.
He recognized these, also. Why shouldn't he have? Every date, he had brought a certain young woman a new book. She'd amassed quite a library by the time he'd finally worked up the nerve to propose to her by sneaking a diamond ring into a hollowed out volume with a note apologizing for the book's sad demise. "I know you love Asimov, but I'm hoping that you love me even more." She'd been delighted with his typical flamboyancy, and agreed. Soon afterward, both she and her collection of literature had taken up residence with him. After her death, he'd locked the door to her study and vowed never to open it again. Obviously Gaz had managed to get into it, however.
Such heavy books. And about such weighty subjects for such a small girl. He backed out of the room slowly, barely remembering to turn off the light.
Next came Dib's room, a strange cave of posters that glowed eerily under black lights, piles of strange monstrous toys and magazines about UFOs. What sort of children did he have, he wondered suddenly. Dib, his energetic, ambitious… perhaps a little crazy son… always looking for a new mystery to solve, some equation, even if it was imaginary, that he needed… to… master…
"Oh my… god." Professor Membrane whispered softly. More memories flashed before his eyes. First the day that he'd come home to discover that Dib and the babysitter had apparently managed to teach his little sister to say "Daddy". They'd both been so delighted in the game, so happy. The next recollection wasn't as pleasant. It had been only two years since his children had greeted him at the door with their surprise. He'd been becoming more active in the scientific community again. Bettering the world for the two kids that thought the world of him. Or so he'd thought. He'd barely noticed at the time, but now in retrospect he could clearly see that Dib had begun modeling himself after his father. Trying to find cures to things, even if it meant trying to prove the existence of, and then capturing the inevitable monsters under the bed. Had the day really been so gray and foreboding when he'd asked Dib what he and his sister done all day, and the boy had responded "**I** went outside and looked for the werewolf that's been getting into the trash."
"What about Gaz?"
"Oh she watched TV or something stupid like that, I guess." He had shrugged it off at the time, but now it stung him like an accusation. No wonder Gaz had become such a withdrawn, angry introvert… first he, and then her brother had seemingly abandoned her; too interested in conquering their own worlds.
It suddenly struck Professor Membrane that there was a lot more that needing fixing than he'd been letting himself believe.
A/Note: Dang, it just keeps getting darker, doesn't it? Break out the flashlights, folks!
Chapter Six: The Revelation of Membrane
Splash. Another chemical reaction. Another unforeseen interaction. Another failure.
Blast it all.
Professor Membrane sighed much more heavily than a man whom the world believed infallible should have been capable of. It was all his fault. He had done this to an innocent little girl, why couldn't he undo it? He reached up slowly and pulled the goggles away from his eyes, then purposefully removed the thick rubber gloves. Finally the heavily starched, perfectly bleached lab coat was cast off. With all his physical shielding, the trappings of the great and glorious "Professor Membrane, the man without whom this world falls into CHAOS!!" gone, he stood there alone in his laboratory; a tall, thin man now revealed wearing black, that none of his legions of fans would recognize as their idol, blinking in the suddenly uncomfortably bright light.
He sighed again and walked up the stairs. Thus far, the quest to find a way to chemically subdue the elements he and his late wife had used to give Gaz her abilities had been completely useless. There was always some reaction that would almost certainly prove fatal or excruciatingly painful for the girl. The girl? His daughter.
He walked slowly through the house, taking in the everyday sights that his children saw so often but he barely recognized. How long had there been so many things in the house that looked like him? Lamps, trash cans…? He shook his head in confusion as he passed through the living room. Few pictures of their family adorned the walls, he noticed suddenly. Mostly, it was newspaper clippings and images of himself standing with famous figures from across the globe that filled the frames he passed as he traveled up the stairs and down the hall.
First on the tour came Gaz's room. The flick of a light switch revealed little he didn't already know. At least, at first sight. He strode carefully, almost cautiously into the room, taking in the messy, unmade bed, the stacks of video game magazines, the neatly sorted cartridges that lined her shelf. A lone plush toy sat on top, keeping guard on the trove. He reached to pick it up, struggling to place the nagging memory that it whispered to him.
He almost dropped the toy as it suddenly came back to him. Gaz's second birthday. A touring carnival had been in town and she (with some help from Dib) had successfully begged him into taking them for an afternoon's distraction. She'd seen this stuffed dragon, with its green body and purplish wings, sitting in a game booth and had fallen in love. With, as he'd explained to both entranced children, a perfect balance of inertia and thrust coupled with his perfect knowledge of physics to aid in deciphering precisely where to strike the stack of obviously weighted milk bottles, he'd won it for Gaz. She had smiled so gratefully that tears could be seen shimmering in her eyes.
"Thank you, Daddy! I love him! I'll keep him always…" And so far, it seemed, she had. In such perfect condition that the creature looked as if it had come home only yesterday.
As he moved to replace the animal… he knew for a fact that it had a name, but found to his consternation that he couldn't place it at the moment, back on its spot on the shelf, he knocked over a stack of periodicals that had been nudged aside by his boot. Beneath the issues of "Gaming Gore Monthly" and "High Scorer's Digest", he saw something that amazed him even more than the stuffed dragon had. Setting the now forgotten toy down, he knelt to inspect the books that had been scattered on the floor. Large volumes of Poe, Dickens and Kipling gazed up at him disdainfully.
He recognized these, also. Why shouldn't he have? Every date, he had brought a certain young woman a new book. She'd amassed quite a library by the time he'd finally worked up the nerve to propose to her by sneaking a diamond ring into a hollowed out volume with a note apologizing for the book's sad demise. "I know you love Asimov, but I'm hoping that you love me even more." She'd been delighted with his typical flamboyancy, and agreed. Soon afterward, both she and her collection of literature had taken up residence with him. After her death, he'd locked the door to her study and vowed never to open it again. Obviously Gaz had managed to get into it, however.
Such heavy books. And about such weighty subjects for such a small girl. He backed out of the room slowly, barely remembering to turn off the light.
Next came Dib's room, a strange cave of posters that glowed eerily under black lights, piles of strange monstrous toys and magazines about UFOs. What sort of children did he have, he wondered suddenly. Dib, his energetic, ambitious… perhaps a little crazy son… always looking for a new mystery to solve, some equation, even if it was imaginary, that he needed… to… master…
"Oh my… god." Professor Membrane whispered softly. More memories flashed before his eyes. First the day that he'd come home to discover that Dib and the babysitter had apparently managed to teach his little sister to say "Daddy". They'd both been so delighted in the game, so happy. The next recollection wasn't as pleasant. It had been only two years since his children had greeted him at the door with their surprise. He'd been becoming more active in the scientific community again. Bettering the world for the two kids that thought the world of him. Or so he'd thought. He'd barely noticed at the time, but now in retrospect he could clearly see that Dib had begun modeling himself after his father. Trying to find cures to things, even if it meant trying to prove the existence of, and then capturing the inevitable monsters under the bed. Had the day really been so gray and foreboding when he'd asked Dib what he and his sister done all day, and the boy had responded "**I** went outside and looked for the werewolf that's been getting into the trash."
"What about Gaz?"
"Oh she watched TV or something stupid like that, I guess." He had shrugged it off at the time, but now it stung him like an accusation. No wonder Gaz had become such a withdrawn, angry introvert… first he, and then her brother had seemingly abandoned her; too interested in conquering their own worlds.
It suddenly struck Professor Membrane that there was a lot more that needing fixing than he'd been letting himself believe.
A/Note: Dang, it just keeps getting darker, doesn't it? Break out the flashlights, folks!