He was being lifted, rocked, moved, not gently. Voices buzzed by his ears, garbled snippets of sound that he couldn't understand. His body was gone entirely. All he had was a small circle of awareness encompassing his ears and his mouth, which was torturously dry.

He was desperate for water and movement. He strained his mind against the thick fog around him; it resisted stiffly, and then suddenly gave.

The orderlies pushing Dib along didn't pause as he stirred and whimpered. The young woman walking beside the gurney was the only one of the three who reacted. She reached out one small, cool hand and placed it on her brother's damp forehead. "It's all right, Dib," she told him. "They're just taking you to a high-security wing to finish operating. Everything is going to be fine."

The voice was familiar, but the tone- one meant to comfort and soothe- was so out of character that Dib managed to open his eyes. Gaz's face swung and blurred above him and he blinked. "G… Gaz?" he mumbled clumsily. "Where's Dad?"

"He's just talking to some doctors." He eyes and face held a veneer of gentleness. "He's gonna be with us in a few minutes."

Dib began to feel uneasy. Something deep inside was knawing at him, not in his brain but in his gut. Danger. Danger. "Who are you?" he whispered. "You're not… you're not my sister…"

Nonsense. But it was what he felt. Not Gaz not Gaz danger danger…

She glanced down at him, eyes opaque. Her hand smoothed across his forehead, her fingernails scratching lightly at the skin. "Calm down, Dib," she said. "You'll feel better after surgery."

Gaz wasn't allowed into the operating room. Dib was glad; he turned his head as much as he could and tracked her with his eyes to make sure she stayed out.

When he woke up it was to a presence.

He felt vaguely that Zim was beside him; it had the same feeling, the same gloating, predatory watchfulness. When he opened his eyes he did it very carefully, so that his lashes merely flickered. He forced himself to keep the swell and fall of his chest regular. Only when the silhouette turned out to be Gaz did he open his eyes fully and turn to watch her.

She slipped her hand into his once she saw he was awake, and sat with him, quiet. Dib could feel his palm turning slippery with sweat. There was no one else in the room with them. His sense of paranoia was swelling.

Footsteps sounded outside, and the door scraped as it opened. Dib went tense, then managed to calm himself so quickly that it seemed he had never been afraid. It was only Membrane, with water for both of them.

His father elevated Dib's bed and passed his children their cups. Dib sipped at it gratefully. His arm was snugly bandaged, and he touched the wrapped cloth with a feeling of wonder. He was alive. He was okay. Zim's probe was gone. There were probably government people checking it out now, and within the day Zim would be taken into custody. Even his advanced technology couldn't hold out against the numbers that would be mustered to take him.

Victory felt quiet and dull, not how he had imagined it. Dib forced himself to smile. I've won.

He still couldn't shake the troubling sense of unease. He should have been enjoying this, he knew; displays of concern from his family were rare to the point of nonexistence. But there was something creepy rather than companionable in the silence, in the weight of their eyes on him. Dib fought off a shiver and laid back, his glass empty. They were just watching him, and he had nearly died, after all…

His arm had begun to throb again. Dib fumbled for the button at his bedside that controlled his morphine dosage and sighed as the pain drained away. "So, Dad…" he said. "When can I come home?"

The ambient temperature in the room dropped about fifty degrees. Membrane looked up, his goggles reflecting the fluorescent light. Dib wished he could see his father's eyes.

"Son," he said flatly. He voice was monotonous and dull, totally foreign to all that Dib had come to expect from his father. "You won't be coming home for a while. A few months at least."

The morphine dulled any strong emotion he might have had, but Dib still tried to sit up. He couldn't bring himself to be surprised by the statement… he had always suspected that he would end up there someday. It was just too soon…

He wished he could think of something sarcastic to say. Nothing came.

Membrane stared grimly into space. "Son," he said. "I'm taking you into the labs for treatment. This insanity has gone too far. It was all right while you were just babbling about aliens, but self-mutilation indicates a higher level of instability than I anticipated. I've done my best to solve this problem without resorted to medication, but… you need treatment, son."

Dib twisted the sheet in his hands.

The scientist looked hard at his son. "Is something wrong, Dib?" The question was concerned but the tone was all wrong. He wants this, Dib thought. He's glad. He's glad…

"No," he said, hardly recognizing his own voice. "I guess it will make life easier for you, huh? To not have the crazy son around anymore?"

"Dib, calm down…" Membrane began.

"God, shut up!" The boy yelled. "Just… shut up! Don't act like you haven't been waiting for this!" He wanted to get up and throw something. "I guess this is the perfect opportunity for you to just pack me off, huh? HUH? I'm never going to see the light of day again, am I?"

Membrane pushed back his seat and stood up. "You're hysterical," he said. He had stopped listening. Dib caught his breath and put his hand to his forehead. "I'm leaving now. I'll ask the doctor to give you a tranquilizer so you can sleep."

Fuck. He didn't even listen…

Dib pushed his forehead into his hands. He couldn't bring himself to watch his sister and father leaving. He didn't even think of escaping; guards would be posted outside his door and his room had no windows. He wouldn't even see the sky before he was taken away.

END OF CHAPTER NINE

They didn't tell Dib about the doctors because they didn't want to distress him further. I think hearing that was enough of a nasty shock, don't you…?

April 6, 2005