It's been another hard week, but it's finally done. Dib stood proudly over the ship, the engine a whisper instead of making metallic coughs; even Gaz when she kicked down the door for dinner, was slightly impressed before threatening Dib. Turning off the engine, Dib happily followed Gaz out the door and into the house, even the… food was tolerable. Nothing could tamper his success.

"Good evening children!" Professor Membrane said from the head of the table, taking Dib by surprise. "So, how was your month respectively? Next week is a start of the next page of the cale-" the tall echo of joy radiating off the scientist seemed to stop as he looked at the kitchen calendar. It was the first Friday of the month, he was a week off. "uh-!" He quickly rose from the table, leaving Gaz and Dib to watch him run down the basement steps and then back up to the table.

"I'm sorry that I'm a week late, it seems that my latest work had set forward my digital time-keeping devices!" Silence wrapped around the small 3/4s of the table. Dib couldn't believe it, his dad missed the most important day in the month for their family not because he didn't notice the time, but because the time itself was wrong…

"It's ok Dad, at least you made it to dinner." Gaz had a small smile on her face, her Game Slave out of sight with her attention on their dad. Dib didn't know if he wanted to either to share her small joy in that their father finally remembered to join them or anger for the fact that he missed it because a simple mistake. Something small in the back of his mind, made him forget to be angry at all; Dib wasn't going to be around for monthly family dinners for a while, not until he completed his mission.

"Hope you learned something from that experiment then," Dib let his face copy Gaz's smile, small yet genuine. Dinner forged on with conversation mostly between Gaz and their dad but light moments of Dib talking vaguely about his… project.

"That's good son that you're working on a what sounds like an astrophysics or just mechanical engineering project," Membrane patted Dib's head as the three began to clean up the table, "Maybe you can show it to me for feedback, or turn it in for a scholarship-"

"No!" Dib feared this would happen, he couldn't let his dad know why he was even working on this whole thing, but he needed an excuse fast. "It's a surprise! You'll see it when it's done!" Gaz's brow perked up at Dib's voice crack, making Dib sweat nervously because if she saw, his dad might too. A beat of silence passes, the Game Salve start up sound pounded into his ears like his own heart.

"Very well then son, I can't wait to see it then! Now, goodnight children, I have to get back to work, see you all on the next last Friday!" With that the basement door slammed shut, the two Membrane children only a yard or two apart.

"Close call," Gaz exhaled sharply in amusement, but her face contorted back to its apathetic expression Dib knew (and considering the rest of his life, loved), "you going to leave tonight?" This caught Dib off guard, why did she care? Gaz never cared when he went out (unless it was to fetch snacks).

"No…" the soon spaceborne (he would say airborne but that seemed wrong) boy turned to look at his sister fully. There she was, 16 and still sporting her maw-like hairstyle, Game Slave rested naturally in her hands covering the vague skull design on her dress… "I'll leave tomorrow," nodding, Dib finalized his decision, tomorrow maybe in the afternoon-

"Fine, after dinner." After dinner then.

The next day was lively yet only in the bubble that was Dib's own little world; he rushed about grabbing supplies and necessities for basic survival. By noon, having been up for 6 hours, Dib stopped for lunch. Gaz sat on the couch with a sandwich and Dib with his own was sprawled on the floor.

"You better call me every last Friday. You're not getting off easy." Gaz's voice was followed with a crunch of toast after the command. Her eyes pierced Dib's, her apathetic glare holding a hint of something Dib could only name with when he last felt it. Guilt flooded his mouth washing out any enjoyable taste of his sandwich; the crunch of lettuce almost a cry of pain for it between his teeth.

"I- I will. Promise." His cowlick swayed as Dib nodded his head, he truly meant it. As soon lunch had finished being eaten, crumbs transferred from anxiously sweaty palms to pants, Dib ran to the garage to tweak a few things. A communicator for long distances.

"Dib, I made dinner!" Gaz's foot hitting the door had become a familiar sound over the past days of toiling in the garage. The familiarity making it all the easier to realize that Gaz wasn't just calling him for dinner, she was calling him for dinner she made; he almost wanted to cry and give up on his nemesis, but, but he couldn't.

"Coming." Dib placed his tools away, Gaz silently waiting with the door leaning on her more than she it. With a few bags from earlier placed near the ship, Dib followed Gaz back to the house. Dadbot unseen as they sat down, Dib admired how his sister's culinary skills had improved since they were younger.

"This is good," a mouthful of mashed potatoes muffled the compliment, but it was not unheard. Gaz replied by biting down onto a fork of her own, copying Dib's poor manners with a muffled "thanks" of her own. A rare moment of childish nature returned to them, a smile forcing itself where it should be, but it didn't prevail because their mouths were stuffed with mashed potatoes.

Clinking dishes acted as the alarm reminding Dib that it was time. Slowly ascending the stairs to receive his last bag, only for him to turn at the doorway, looking for anything he may have missed. His notes no longer hogged the cork-board, his laptop's space on the desk was bare as well as the rest of it. The closet nearly empty because Dib never had anything he "might" wear. The room was hardly recognizable, hardly looked lived in, and to Dib that was depressing. So he closed the door and made his way back downstairs.

"Dib," Gaz stood at the back door of the house, fidgeting with her hands, "Good luck…"

"Thanks Gaz," Dib's nod in return felt empty, therefore he followed his instinct. The bag flopped to the ground, making room to grab Gaz for a hug. Both were shocked by the sentiment as it was foreign to their game of apathy, but neither let go until twin rivers of tears needed to be rubbed away. No other words were said as they separated, the hug conveying all they wanted to say.

Dib looked at the garage, the cool air of fall the last he may feel of Earth's elements for some time. A sense of determination fell on his shoulders, a weight of desire keeping him from turning back. He entered the work space, placing his last bag with the others and started the ship.