I imagine the Membrane Labs would be, just, The Most in all aspects because Membrane seems like the kinda person to just have everything you could think of available to do just about everything possible. I plan to revisit the labs later (if I get a good idea for that. I know I can probably cook up some nice shenanigans with that kinda layout with a whole building being ready to blow because of two idiots lmao)

Enjoy!

Part 58: Science and Sleeping

Dib hit his alarm with a deadweight hand. The alarm jostled on the nightstand and slipped off. Dib waited to hear it hit the floor only for the sound not to come. He cracked an eye open, lifting his head up. Zim was setting the alarm back on the nightstand, giving him an unimpressed look. He tossed the jacket he'd been working on before back into the closet and kicked the door shut before returning to Dib's bedside, a set of clothes already in hand. Dib tried to turn over, failing once Zim forced him back in the other direction.

"No! You are coming with me! I refuse to go alone!" Zim shouts. Though, it came out more like a whining demand. Dib groaned, throwing off his covers.

"Don't you have Gir?" he asks.

"You cannot be serious."

"Well, I don't want to go, either." Dib says. He snatched the shirt and pants from Zim's arms regardless. Zim would drag him by his ankles if it meant he didn't have to face the labs alone.

"Neither did Gaz, but I convinced her," Zim says smugly. Dib cracked an eye open suspiciously

"Then you wouldn't be going alone—"

"Irrelevant."

"It's completely relevant. How did you get her to come?" Dib asks. Zim paused.

"I promised I'd build her a VR headset and body suit. Whatever VR means."

"Ah."

Sometimes it was easy to get Gaz to agree to something if that something involved games. Only if she couldn't feasibly do it herself, though. It was a rare loophole in her steadfast refusal to do anything she didn't want to. Dib switched his shirt out, stretching and popping his back again. Zim flinched away, hissing in disgust. Dib smirked at him as he messed his hair up to style it. Zim beat him out of the room, giving him a nasty side eye until he'd made it into the hall.

"Oh, stop being so dramatic."

"Never."

Dib rolled his eyes. He was downstairs in less than five minutes. He snagged his phone up and found both Gaz and Zim in the kitchen. Zim had activated his disguise and was trying to wrestle Gir into his dog suit. Gaz was watching, pointedly not helping, and eating her cereal to the entertainment. Dib helped Zim, earning a tired 'thank you', before he grabbed his own breakfast bar. Gaz dumped what milk was left in her bowl in the sink with a huff. Dib didn't blame her for being as disinterested with going to the lab as he was. A car horn honked outside. Zim perked up, stiff at first, before relaxing at Dib and Gaz's collective sigh.

"You both aren't ditching me with this," Zim spat. Dib gave him pointers for correctly using slang again.

"I know," Dib sighed. "We're going somewhere fun after this."

"Of course," Zim says, carrying Gir as the robot tried to wriggle free. Zim hissed at him in warning. "GIR, STOP MOVING. You are coming only because I cannot trust you alone in the Membrane base."

"House," Gaz corrects. Zim ignored her.

Gir was done fidgeting. Dib swiped a lollipop from the pantry and set it in Gir's mouth. Gaz was first out the door. The car parked out front had a logo on the side, one that Zim vaguely recognized before he realized suddenly that it was Professor Membrane's lab logo. Zim took stock of the house, the car, and the nanny-bot he'd found stuffed in the back of the pantry one night as he climbed in after Gaz. He ended up sandwiched between the siblings. He laid his head on Dib's shoulder while the driver tried to make small talk with either sibling. Zim's PAK picked up one of them introducing him; but he was more focused on trying to sparse out how human money worked again.

The concept of currency wasn't lost on Zim. He just preferred to use the 'black card', as Dib had called it, for everything. Zim had offered to set up an account for Dib. He'd refused and Zim wondered if Gaz would refuse as well. He sat up a little, lost on the conversation at hand between Gaz and the driver. He was first surprised that Gaz was even talking to the driver as much as she was. He turned to Dib.

"Are you two considered rich?" Zim asks. Gaz paused alongside the driver. Zim didn't notice the awkward smile the driver held as they tried not to laugh. Gaz looked at Zim like he'd said something utterly moronic and Zim would have been quick to let her know she could shove it if Dib hadn't started to laugh.

"Are you JUST realizing that?" Dib asks. He sighed, catching his breath. "Technically Dad is the one who has all the money, but…"

"We get allowances," Gaz interjects.

She holds up her Game Slave. It was, undoubtably, the latest edition though Zim didn't bother with remembering what edition anything was. It did explain the mountain of gaming equipment Gaz had surrounding her in her room, though. Zim pouted at the two of them. The car stopped eventually, Zim having dozed off against Dib again, and the jerk of the parking jolted Zim out of his stupor.

The lab itself was a large building. It was different than the one Membrane had occupied when Dib and Gaz had been children. The driver was starting off some spiel about moving labs to expand. The building itself was mostly glass at the front. It reminded Zim of the convention hall. He wondered if that was intentional on Membrane's part. Zim wouldn't have put it past him. He held Gir in a vice grip while they were guided inside. The lobby was large, and Zim had to be pulled to the side by his sleeve because he was busy staring up at the refracting light in the ceiling. It was almost hypnotizing and Zim would have to make a note of that.

They walked through a locked door, the driver's ID scanning them in. Zim hadn't realized until now that the doors in the lobby were all ID card accessible only save for the restrooms at the back. The hall they walked down smelled a little too clean—though Zim wasn't about to complain over cleanliness he was beginning to see why Dib hated the labs. Dib was far more suited for the woods and getting down in the dirt with his research.

They were let into another room. This one was markedly larger than the lobby, and the ceiling was so high that even Zim's PAK legs couldn't let him touch it. He spotted a rather large physics experiment in the center that was likely the reason for the ceiling's height. Caution lines were set out on the floor to denote where they could walk freely.

"This section of the building is mostly for physics experiments," the driver stated. Zim was beginning to suspect they were more of an all-purpose guide.

"Do you work in the lab?" Zim asks. The driver paused and smiled.

"I do, actually. I work with inertia and automobiles. I'm working on making a bullet car," the drivers says proudly. He motioned towards the back of the room where another door was hidden behind the experiments and inventions. "My lab is on that side of the building on level 3."

Zim ignored the side-eye Gaz gave him. He stuck his tongue out at her, careful not to let it stretch too far out. He spent the rest of the tour of the room idly taking in the purpose of each invention. He saw something that looked like a hover-bike and made some mental notes. The next lab was the Inertia Lab. Then one that Zim could only assume was focused on some herbology given the abundance of plants that were present in the room. The air was almost thick with the oxygen abundance. Zim made a note that if he ever came back, he'd have to check this lab out himself again. He could see a few rooms cut off from the rest—no doubt for specialized experiments. They paused in the Robotics lab—a massive room that had several floors with its own personal connecting elevator.

"This is where he should be," the driver says. Dib thanked him, pointedly, and the man slunk away back to his own lab.

"Let's beat if before he sees us," Gaz says hurriedly.

"Children!" Membrane's voice boomed over the room, turning some heads, and stopping Gaz mid turn for the door. She bristled, turning back to the room. Zim tried to hide his smirk.

"You tried," he whispered. Gaz growled.

Membrane came up to them, decked out in lab coat and all. Zim was starting to hate that the goggles and lab coat's collar blocked Membrane's face. He couldn't tell what the man was thinking when he couldn't see his face. As he drew closer Zim's grip on Gir grew tighter. He was trying very hard to control his anger. He couldn't use his PAK legs in the lab with so many witnesses—nor would the siblings forgive him for killing their father, he suspected. Regardless, he had WORDS for the man.

"I'm glad you all made it!" Membrane said as he came up to them. He sounded far too cheerful for Zim's liking.

"I came to give you a piece of my mind," Zim says lowly.

Dib closed his eyes, praying to whatever God happened to exist that had it out for him, hoping that Zim didn't trash a portion of the lab. Membrane, the gall of the man, tilted his head in confusion. Zim almost threw Gir down, not bothering to follow the robot as he ran off into the room. Gaz slipped past them, both grateful for the excuse to leave for a few minutes and agitated that she had to chase Gir to get away.

"You could have damaged Gir!" Zim started. "You do not touch things that are not yours—Dib has made that very clear to me—and you did not know how Gir works!"

"I figured it out rather quickly," Membrane says, sounding almost proud.

"You could have caused an explosion!" Zim screeched. "That robot is more valuable than you realize; and I will not have you messing with my things again!"

"Ah—"

"If I find that anything with him is damaged—moreso than usual—I will have your arms!" Zim screams, slamming his fist down on the nearest table. Dib barely managed to catch one of the devices from tumbling off onto the floor.

"Uh, no." Dib says. Zim looks at him all but half a second before he's looking back to Membrane with the same fire in his eyes.

"I will have your leg—"

"You will not," Dib cuts in, pulling Zim back a little. "Zim, do not amputate my dad. More than he already is, anyway."

"I will do what I—wait, what?"

"I apologize for toying with your robot," Membrane says. Zim cocked an eyebrow at him. He'd have flicked an antennae if he wasn't sure it wouldn't poke out of his wig and hologram. "I won't touch… Gir?... again."

Zim flicked his gaze to Dib, who was pointedly glaring at him with the patience of a parent run ragged. Gaz came up beside him with Gir in her arms. He had a wrench lodged in his mouth. Zim stared at Gir a moment before turning back to Membrane with a sigh.

"…That is acceptable." Zim concedes. Dib nearly didn't catch himself from deflating with relief. "For now."

Dib banged his head on a nearby table. Zim and Gaz both ignored him. Membrane regarded Zim a second before he seemed to smile.

"I like your enthusiasm with your work!" he declared. Zim wouldn't call it enthusiasm, more like a violent possessive nature of his things, but he let it slide. "Hold on here for just a moment."

Dib watched his father go and looked around again with a sigh. "It's so much easier to get in now."

"It was never very hard," Gaz says coolly, dropping Gir and taking one of the random vials off a desk. The attendant warily tried to grab it back. Gaz held it further way, pretending to examine it. Zim looked at Dib curiously. Gir started to run circles around them. Dib sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I had to go through all these stupid tests and then this one on one battle. I just needed his signature on a permission slip…" Dib sighed. Zim stared at him.

"What."

"Yeah, but then he started this whole 'spending time with us' thing and gave us access to the lab." Gaz held up an ID card. Dib pulled out his own.

"I mean, it does make it easier," he says before stowing it away again.

"I stand by that he's going through his own temporary insanity and that's why he wants to be a better dad suddenly," Gaz says. Zim was fairly certain that she was joking, but he couldn't be sure.

If only… he thought.

"That aside…" Zim says. "It is a rather nice lab…"

Dib went rigid. He turned to Zim with a look that screamed 'don't you dare say it'. To his dismay, Zim was oblivious to this struggle.

"…And with a few touch ups—"

ABORT! ABORT ABORT ABORT!

"We're not working here! You're only considering it because you don't have your own right now," Dib accused. Gaz snickered at Zim's offended gasp. She finally relented the vial to the attendant.

"I most certainly am not!" Zim retorted. He paused. Membrane was already coming back to them, looking oddly excited. Zim could see the crows feet at the corner of his eyes past the goggles. "But now that you mention it—"

"No, that wasn't what I was trying to do!" Dib claimed. He could not, and would not, be working in his father's labs if he couldn't study the paranormal in it. "Don't you also have classes this fall, anyway?"

"Eh, I wasn't committed," Zim says with a shrug. Membrane paused in front of them.

"Oh, that is a catch to working here! You'd be part time while you attend school!" Membrane says. Zim balked at him.

"Why?"

"It would be unfair to hire a full-time employee at the lab who doesn't have the credentials to warrant it—regardless of how capable you are!" Membrane says. Zim narrowed his eyes.

"You just want to be able to say your kids have PhD's in these fields."

"… Irrelevant. It would show favoritism, young lad! And favoritism isn't acceptable in SCIENCE!" Membrane declared triumphantly. Now Zim knew where Dib had gotten it. Membrane seemed to calm down a touch, leaning in. "It shows bias, you see."

Before Zim could retort—though the logic was solid—Membrane held out an ID card with his face on it. Zim took it, unsure how he'd gotten the photo, but he could see that the background was somewhere in the lobby.

"What—"

"If you're gong to be working here then you should have access to the building. Just like my kids," Membrane explains. Zim flicked his gaze between Membrane and the ID card before he took it.

"Professor! The collider is ready!"

"Ah! Excellent! Well, children, I have to go. Don't touch anything you don't know what it is," Membrane says. He patted each of them on their heads. Zim looked at him quizzically when he did. He walked away and Zim watched him go for a moment. He turned to Dib and Gaz.

"Well, you're adopted now," Gaz says. She pulled her Game Slave out, finally able to play without the threat of a lecture imminent.

"Huh?"

"Well, you're technically 18 as far as anyone else is concerned, so he can't legally do it," Dib explained. "But he can pretend."

"Why?"

"You're a genius. You're currently living at the house. You're good friends with us. You aren't afraid to call him an idiot," Gaz listed, raising a finger with each reason before returning to her game. "Boom. You're his new kid."

Zim gaped at them. "…WHAT?"

Dib laughed, pushing him along the tables. "Well, c'mon, let's look around if you're that interested. Maybe I can do some paranormal research if you're working here."

"I'd rather do astrophysics," Zim mumbled. "Or robotics. Or—"

"There's probably a whole section of lab for any that," Dib muses. He looked around the lab himself, spying a few different experiments he could get behind. "Okay, so it is a little tempting, but I don't think Dad'll let me study Bigfoot or aliens here."

"He would have to know?" Zim asks. Dib hummed. He was already thinking of all the ways he could get around studying monsters.

Zim sighed, leaning back in the chair. His back was starting to ache from being hunched over for so long. Gir was humming to himself while he played with a puzzle game Zim had found in the living room closet. He figured it must have been made by Membrane—it was far too advanced for regular human children if the toy section in the stores were anything to go by. He stretched, stopping short of almost popping his own back. He shivered at the thought and kicked the rolling chair away from the table until he was across from the clock.

It was nearly 5 in the morning. Zim stood from the chair, sauntering up the stairs and stopping in the living room. He needed a break and a snack. He raided the pantry, finishing out the last of the chocolate bars. He stopped in the living room, his antenna twitching. It was too quiet for his liking. He would have to set up some sort of music system while he worked in the basement if he was going to keep using it.

He grimaced and made his way upstairs. He poked his head into Dib's room. It was still dark inside the room. Zim slipped inside. He sat on the edge of Dib's bed, his weight shifting Dib's own body, but Dib didn't seem to wake. Zim sighed, letting his body relax. It had been a long time since he had felt relaxed as often as he could be in the Membrane household. He didn't think he'd start to hate silence—he needed it to focus on his projects, after all—but the new dislike of it had grown steadily the more he'd spent time around Dib. The boy almost made a point of not allowing the silence to stretch on too long.

Zim twitched his antennae. He drowned out Dib's breathing and heartrate. The house was still too quiet for his liking, even with those noises in the backdrop. He ignored the small sounds from inside, away from the whirring of the lab and kitchen appliances, and to the streets. He could hear the bustle of the city and felt some contentedness return. He could still recall when the sounds of lawnmowers grated on his nerves, yet the noises of distant humans in the streets even this early in the day was less aggravating. He still loathed the lawnmowers, however. Any loud engine was just too grating on his hearing.

He looked at Dib, who was oblivious to the various traffic events and distant partying peers. Zim observed for a while. He saw a strange sense of peace in how humans slept. He himself couldn't drift into unconsciousness without the assistance of the PAK to force his body into stasis. it was too vulnerable of a state for him to slip into it so regularly. Zim had to admit that he also found some form of courage necessary for it—to believe they'd be able to wake up without injury or death was foolish. Zim scrunched his face. He couldn't rightfully blame them. Humans didn't live like Irkens; with a probable enemy around each corner and trillions of slighted aliens who would take revenge should they get the chance.

PAKs took care of many of those issues and yet sleep had still fallen out of use thanks to too many incidents of it. And yet, despite that, he'd fallen asleep or let his own focus slip long and far enough to mimic the action more times here in the last months than he had in his entire life. He felt content and secure in the house—in no small part thanks to the security. Zim had heard… stories about Gaz's stuffed animals. He wasn't keen on testing those stories. Knowing the girl she would have upgraded them within recent years.

Zim looked Dib over. He turned in his sleep, facing his back to the wall now and Zim almost jumped off the bed at the sudden motion. He settled back into place with an embarrassed sigh. It was oddly alluring to watch Dib sleep. It was disarming, in a way. Zim was sure it would be just as interesting to watch Gaz sleep, if he didn't fear losing a limb entering her room. He doubted he'd find an equal sense of allure watching anyone else sleep, though. Somehow it didn't feel like it would be the same. It felt like it'd be missing something for the experience to even be comparable.

Zim felt a warmth in his chest following a constriction. He clenched his claws into the mattress and turned away. His face started to flush. He had to take a moment before he turned to look at Dib again. The covers were drawn up to his chin. He had never gotten past that specific sleeping habit. Zim was happy just to see him sound asleep. He leaned closer. He could feel Dib's breath on his skin.

Zim pressed his lips to Dib's forehead, letting them linger a moment before pulling away. His face was completely flushed even as he sat up and looked at the wall. He felt hot suddenly. His antennae were vibrating. Zim flicked his gaze back at Dib, seeing no obvious changes in the darkness. He slapped his cheeks multiple times, trying to snap himself out of whatever stupor he'd just put his mind into. He tried to focus on the cars and the music and the ambient noise of the city but found he couldn't. He couldn't focus on anything other than doing the action again and so forced himself to think of nothing.

He crawled over Dib, slipping under the covers to the swath of warmth underneath, laying down with his PAK to Dib's back. His insides were jumping around in a mess. Zim looked over his shoulder at Dib. He lost the mental battle almost immediately. He groaned, turning over and snuggling up to Dib's back. He sighed, a light purr sounding from his chest.

Dib felt the weight on his bed and knew Zim was there. Even without opening his eyes, or even fully waking up, his brain could tell when it was Zim. Dib was in a state of quasi-consciousness—his brain mostly still shut off, but he could feel the heavy fog of sleep still present. He turned over, slipping back into unconsciousness slowly. He felt Zim fidget and then a shift in his weight.

He felt something press against his forehead. It felt nice. Warm. He liked it. His brain started to come back again and he felt Zim shift away. His brain stopped, processing the specific shift in weight like a computer that slowed to a crawl as it struggled to process data. He could have almost heard the dial tone in his brain. He felt Zim crawl over him and the short-lived lift of the covers. It took a moment, with Dib's exhausted brain almost slipping back into unconsciousness before he heard Zim groan and then felt pressure at his back. He could feel the purr start up in Zim's chest like a quiet engine.

Dib smiled, letting his brain start to shut down again. An arm snaked its way past his elbow and around his waist. He grumbled, readjusting, and Zim's body went rigid. Dib sighed, relaxing again. Zim's arm didn't relax for a moment and Dib was afraid he'd blown it. A wave of relief hit him when Zim's arm relaxed and the purr started up again. Dib liked the sound and the feeling of Zim's purring. Even if Zim thought it embarrassing, Dib loved it. He let his brain slip into unconsciousness.

Dib woke up the next morning without an alien under the covers. He fell out of bed—almost literally in his attempt to find his glasses without opening his eyes—and trudged down the stairs. Gaz flicked her eyes away from her game and waved.

"Hey." Dib's voice was as dry as his throat. He veered into the kitchen for something to drink, spotting Zim at the table with random mechanical parts and his tablet laid out before him. "Hey, what'cha working on?"

Zim's antenna flicked up, Dib's only indication that Zim had heard him, and the alien waved at him absently. Dib grabbed some juice and sat down with him, leaning against Zim so he could look over the tablet. He pushed Zim a little in his chair with his weight, but Zim didn't move away or react much past a slight color to his face.

"A new lab layout? You can design that?" Dib asks.

"There is no reason why I couldn't," Zim muses, flicking through a few floor designs. "…No, more room for that…"

"Are you trying to actually organize it? Your last base was a maze." Dib says. He finished off his juice, still feeling tired laying against Zim like he was.

"It was a maze to you," Zim corrects. "I knew where everything was."

"Streamlined, then."

"Yes. Perhaps a guest corridor," Zim mumbles. Dib picked up that he was largely mumbling to himself and settled in.