(A/N) I'm so, so sorry for the insufferable wait. D': My life has just kind of… fallen apart lately. I won't bore you all with the details. But anyways, I stuck chapters 3 and 4 (both of which were a bit short) together to make up for it! A 5K update this time, guys! I hope it was worth the wait. ;v;
More George this time- I think he appears in this chapter more than any other. I actually had several people ask me who he was, which surprised me, but I'm afraid all I can tell you right now is that he's Miz's roommate. Sorry. :P Also, let's all extend a warm welcome to one more "new" character who appears in this chapter. ;)
My deepest gratitude goes out to Hazzybat, HalfBlackWolfDemon, Kyouningyou, Gillsandsundry, MentallyManic, oniwuufu, Flameear, and prettykitty473 for reviewing! Uwah, so many lovely reviews this chapter, you guys are the best! I feel absolutely terrible for making you wait this long, I'm so sorry! D':
I do not own Invader Zim, or any of the characters portrayed. ^^
"Good morning, my Diblet!"
The voice was no more surprising, the next morning, than his alarm clock would have been. "Go away, Miz," Dib grumbled, keeping his eyes tightly shut and rolling over.
The blankets were jerked away a moment later, and Dib yelped with shock at the sudden cold. Grasping uselessly for his stolen covers, he glared at his visitor.
"You jerk."
Miz stuck out his tongue, waving the blanket tauntingly. "Does my Dib want his blankie? Does he?"
With a snarl that was only half play, Dib lunged at the intruder and bowled him off his feet. The two boys rolled over and over, crashing first into the wall and then into Dib's desk, sending pencils clattering and papers fluttering, rocking but thankfully not toppling the computer monitor. When Dib finally got himself on top of the other boy, he seized his blanket and pulled hard, only to find that Miz had a very tight grip on the other side.
And that was when the door opened.
"Son, what in the name of Science are you-!"
Miz waved with his free hand from where he was trapped beneath Professor Membrane's son, chirping a jovial greeting.
It took Dib a moment to even formulate words but, when he did, he squeaked out, "Look, Dad! Flesh-and-blood new kid!" Miz jerked playfully at the blanket and Dib's attention snapped back to him with a furious hiss of, "Give that back!" and a tug of the blanket. But the fabric gave out before Miz did, ripping with an unbelievably loud sound and sending Dib toppling backwards with a shriek.
"Oops," the intruder said with a chuckle, looking altogether too amused.
"You jerk!" Dib squeaked indignantly, flailing in an attempt to get upright. Still clinging to the half-a-blanket, he tightened his fists.
"How did he get in?" Professor Membrane demanded. "I thought your security system-"
"He found the two inch gap in my security system," Dib growled furiously; Miz grinned, looking as if he were about to gloat, but was cut off before he could by a snap of, "Shut up!"
"... I told you you should have gotten that fixed," was Professor Membrane's only response, but then he shook his head. "Regardless, I won't have a strange boy in my son's room, much less when my son is in... his... pajamas..."
It didn't take a mind reader to tell where the protective father's mind had just gone.
"Daaad!"
"Quite right, father of my Dib. This situation is quite..."
"Miiiiz!"
"What?" the new boy asked with a grin. "How is your father to be certain that Miz did not even, say, spend the ni-"
"Get out of my room!"
"Get out of my son's room!"
Miz held up his hands. "Very well, very well... Miz shall leave. But Dib-thing, do not forget-"
"Out, get out!" Dib wailed.
Miz shrugged and, with an unnecessarily elaborate flip, exited through the window, tripping the still-activated alarm in the process.
And, with the shrill beeping as a backdrop, Dib was left to laugh nervously and attempt an explanation.
... ... ...
Dib skidded into his classrooms that morning breathless, breakfastless, and unamused. It did his mood no good that he just missed the late bell and, on top of that, was greeted by a classroom full of snickering students and one empty chair.
Miz patted the seat beside him.
Scowling furiously but unwilling to risk the teacher's anger, Dib slung his backpack off and sat down, unable to focus on the lesson being presented. He was vaguely aware, however, that something seemed to be missing.
"Miz, where's your backpack?" he whispered, suddenly hitting upon it. The boy's silhouette looked strange without the slight bump of his ever-present pack.
"Forgot it at home," Miz replied, looking admittedly nervous.
"... Didn't you say you needed it?" Dib ventured.
"For security, yes," the other replied with a nervous grin, "but not physically. I do not bodily require my backpack to live." Then he chuckled, as though the idea was as absurd as it should have been.
But something in the new boy's eyes made Dib irrationally unsure about that fact, and Miz wasn't nearly as talkative as usual during that class period. Occasionally his chest would heave alarmingly or his breath would hitch, but he waved it off as minor anxiety due to the lack of his pack.
The next class passed in a similar way with one glaring exception- though Miz made some attempts at jovial teasing, he fell dead asleep in the middle of class; in the middle of a sentence, for that matter. Dramatically unnerved, Dib was trying to decide whether to let him sleep or shake him awake when the door to the classroom crashed open.
"Is Miz Nekri in this class?!"
"George?" Dib stood, shocked to see Miz's roommate, huffing and puffing and visibly disheveled, standing in the doorway.
"Dib!" Head whipping around, George started to demand, "Where's-?!" but stopped short when he spotted his roommate and friend, still fast asleep despite the commotion. "Miz!"
"What in tarnation...?!" the teacher began, but George literally shoved past him as he hurried, faster than his body type seemed to allow, on his way to his friend.
"He has an anxiety disorder!" the stout boy explained shortly, pulling Miz's backpack out of his own. "Without his backpack he's prone to anxiety attacks and even fainting." Kneeling, he dragged Miz from his desk and smacked the boy across the face- Miz didn't respond. "Come on, you idiot! Wake up, wake up!"
Dib watched this play out in horror, unable to tear his eyes from Miz's limp form. "H-he... never let on... that it was this bad..." he choked out, and George fixed him with a furious glare.
"You should have known!" he spat, eyes alight with fear and rage. Then he turned back, leaving Dib to wonder blankly how he could be expected to know such things.
Miz stirred, immediately commanding both boys' attention. George wrestled his backpack into place, then slapped him again. "Miz, wake up!"
"Wake up..." Dib found himself whispering, his stomach in knots. "This is my fault... I should have known... don't leave me with that guilt... you jerk."
Miz's eyes fluttered slightly, then flickered open. George let out a tremendous sigh of relief, and Dib couldn't help but do the same. Slowly the new boy sat up, one hand to his head.
"... George...?" he asked, seeming irritated. "What... are you...?"
George shocked everyone- Dib, the teacher, and even Miz himself -by striking his roommate across the face again; not the soft smacking he had tried to wake him with, but a strike that made everyone wince and Miz's head snap to the side. By the time the new boy looked back up at his friend, a great red mark was already forming, and George's hand was trembling.
"You left without your backpack!" the stout boy yelled, sounding more like an irate parent- furious, on the brink of tears -than a peer. "You idiot, you could've died!"
"I could have lasted the day..." Miz muttered as he tried to push himself upright, but that earned him another violent smack, this one sending him crashing back to the ground.
"You had fainted, Miz!" George screamed. "How long before you would have gone into shock? 10 minutes, max? And then your blasted heart would have stopped!" He jabbed Miz in the chest to illustrate his point, and then continued, "It would have been over, Miz; you would be dead!" The new boy's face drained of color as his roommate continued. "We've known each other our whole lives, Miz- since we were younglings! I've always trusted you, always followed you without question, and you can't even listen to me when your own life is on the line? Where do you get off?!"
The new boy's face had slowly gone blank, then white as snow, as though he were realizing just how serious the situation was. "But... I was..."
"I don't care if you were making progress!" George shrieked. "Yes, you should be able to last a day without it now, but we had never tested that, not in a safe environment! Damnit Miz, you overestimate your own abilities, time and time again! And after all the effort I've put into keeping you alive, I can't protect you from your own stupidity!"
Dib's horror was palpable as he listened- Miz had been so close to dying, right next to him, and he wouldn't have known to do anything; he would have just let him slip away. Stumbling backwards, he slumped into a chair, abandoned by its student in the flurry of activity. George looked briefly at him, and then rounded on Miz once again.
"And just look what you've done to poor Dib," he yelled, gesturing wildly, "what you've put him through! Who are you to subject him to this- or, Fate forbid, to losing you?!"
Miz only stared, then looked away slowly. "You're making a-" he began to say softly, but George struck him a third time, sending him sprawling to the ground on his side.
"I'm making a scene?" he demanded. "I'm making a scene?!" He laughed bitterly and then stood, hauling his friend up by the backpack. "I'm not making a scene, Miz- I'm saving your worthless life, is what I'm doing. And why I even bother, I don't know." With that he shoved his roommate away, hard in the chest, sending him staggering back into a pile of desks and then down onto his rear end. George spun, then, stalking from the room and leaving the whole class gaping after him.
It took a moment, but the frustrated, angry expression on Miz's face soon melted into one of earnest regret and concern. Struggling to his feet he staggered, obviously still off-balance and weak.
"George!"
And as Miz half-trotted, half-limped from the room, Dib found himself following.
"W-Wait up, Miz!"
... ... ...
George was in tears by the time Dib caught up, Miz hovering nervously a couple of feet away from his friend. Dib came up beside them, feeling as if he shouldn't be there and needed to be all at once.
"... Miz...?"
"How do I manage to make such a mess of things?" the boy asked unexpectedly- mournfully, and then approached his roommate slowly. George was facing the wall, tears streaming down his face and fists clenched on the wall, his forehead pressed to the smooth concrete. When he became aware of Miz's presence- or perhaps when he decided to acknowledge it -he turned.
"Miz, we need to talk," he said, his voice surprisingly devoid of tears. Then he added, "Alone," with a meaningful look at Dib. Uncomfortably, the boy dipped his head, and George added with a weary smile, "Please."
"Of course..." Dib replied softly, backing up. He just caught the beginning of George's angst-ridden cry, "I can't do this anymore...!" before he was respectfully out of earshot. But he didn't leave, and could still see the two friends clearly.
George half-flung himself at Miz, burying his face in the taller boy's chest and grabbing his shoulders, wailing something that was- rightfully so -unintelligible. Dib resisted the urge to sneak closer- he already felt bad about watching such a thing.
Miz seemed incredibly tired- he didn't push the other away, laying one hand on his friend's head and the other on his shoulder. He murmured something- Dib saw his lips barely move, and couldn't read them. 'Nor should I want to,' he reminded himself testily, trying to look away but finding himself unable to.
George was speaking again, an odd mix of imploring and angry. When Miz replied, he seemed calm enough- sad, but certain. George grew visibly more distressed and, after a moment, dropped to his knees and then lower, prostrating himself in front of his friend in a very uncomfortable way, as though he were bowing before a king or master. Miz, seeming distressed and flustered, knelt and tried to pull him upright, but George actively refused to rise, bracing himself against the floor and speaking rapidly, seeming to ramble almost incoherently.
At last Miz succeeded in bodily hauling his friend up, but George remained unmoving in his grasp. Scowling with frustration Miz let go, only to cry out in alarm and drop to his knees when the stout boy hit the ground, as limp as a rag doll.
Voice rising to an angry shout, Miz kicked his friend once, then twice; Dib winced, wondering if he should interfere, but a moment later George caught his roommate's foot and dragged him down. Miz hit the ground with a short cry and a thud, making their observer wince yet again. It wasn't over yet, though, as the taller boy threw himself at his roommate. George met him head on, and the two boys tumbled over and over across the hallway, crashing into the wall and knocking over a garbage bin before they finally came to rest, Miz screeching uselessly as he was pinned to the ground. His voice was, impossibly, loud enough for Dib to make out snatches of it.
"If I... weak from... pack... pay for this...!"
George answered unintelligibly, but he looked as though he might have agreed. But he didn't let the writhing boy up, wiping something- presumably blood -from the corner of his mouth and showing it to Miz. A few more mysterious words made the new boy go quiet- still rigid, but no longer struggling.
George continued to speak softly, seeming entirely calm now. Miz looked away, seeming disgusted by whatever his roommate was saying, but at the same time not arguing. Once George had stopped he asked something, quietly; George nodded. Again he asked, and again the other nodded. The third time Dib was fairly certain he asked to be let up, or perhaps said something to convince George to do just that, because the stout boy sat back and allowed Miz to sit up.
The conversation continued for a moment, mostly Miz speaking and George either nodding or shaking his head. The few times he shook his head Miz looked visibly distressed, almost baleful, but no argument broke out. And then Miz stood, offering his hand to George. His roommate accepted the gesture, allowing himself to he pulled up and then, surprisingly, into an embrace. Miz clapped his back, and then both boys took a step back, brushing themselves off. George turned and motioned to Dib; Miz froze when he saw the other boy, presumably unaware that he had been watching, if not listening.
"Thank you, Dib," George said with a tired smile, and then addressed Miz. "I'm going to head home- I've had enough excitement for the day. Are you coming or staying?"
Miz hesitated, and then turned to Dib. "Will you return with us to the base? Let Miz provide lunch by way of apology?"
Professor Membrane's warning crossed his son's mind, but that was all it did. Such things seemed unimportant at best after such a morning.
"Sure, Miz."
… … …
Dib spent far longer than he should have at Miz and George's house- he ended up staying, in fact, for diner. He was still hungry when he got home, though, as diner had been largely vegetarian and Dib was a growing, human boy. So, in addition to sneaking home through his bedroom window, he risked sneaking downstairs to the kitchen.
That was, of course, when the light flashed on.
"You ditched again today."
Dib winced at his sister's accusatory voice, spilling milk all over himself and the floor. Scowling, he wrung it out if his shirt.
"So what if I did? There was an emergency!"
"A 'saving the world' emergency?"
Dib froze, but not for long. "How dare you?!" he demanded, rounding on his sister. But Gaz merely put a finger to her lips.
"Don't wake Dad, you idiot," she said menacingly. "I haven't told him, but I might have to if he comes out here."
Dib blinked. "You... haven't...?"
Gaz sighed, taking a small step forward. "Dad won't have any problem sending you back there, Dib, but I don't want to see that happen. If it has to be, it has to be- I'll tell him if I think that's the case. But I don't think it is. Not yet."
Dib almost went weak with relief. "Thank you, Gaz...!"
It was too soon, however, for thanks, and Gaz's look said as much. "But I swear," she continued in a growl, "if you mutter so much as one word about aliens or saving the world, I'll know it is for the best- and I'll make the phone call myself. Don't you dare think I won't, Dib." And with that she stalked off, vanishing back up the stairs without another word.
Dib stared after her for a moment, but then sighed and pushed her words from his mind. Turning to retrieve his second diner, he pulled out a half-eaten steak and a bowl of strawberries before slipping back upstairs. It seemed as though there would be no reprieve for him, though, because he walked in to find a visitor lying back casually on his bed.
A female visitor, no less.
"Hello, Dib."
Dib's jaw hit the ground. "Who are you?" he blurted, then tried to gather himself and failed miserably. The girl sat up in a leisurely manner, her classic beauty undeniable in each graceful line of her body- movement flowed like water down the delicate arc of her spine and all the way through her pointed toes. She wore scarcely anything at all to hide these supple curves and her soft, flawless skin- a cropped, purple-striped sweater that bared both her shoulders and midriff, a skin-tight pair of black leggings, and pliable boots that were hardly discernible from the sleek shape of her ankles and feet. She chuckled playfully, looking the owner of the bed she currently occupied up and down.
"What's with that look, Dib? I thought you swung the other way?" Then she laughed, a trilling sound like the chatter of demented angels. "Oh that's right, you're what you would call... bisexual, is that the term? You took a pass at me back in second grade- broke poor Gretchen's heart, though I doubt you even noticed that."
Dib's own heart had stopped, leaving his chest as cold and heavy as ice. Only one person... could be... talking like this... He shook his head violently, stopping that dangerous train of thought with as much force as he could manage.
"Who are you?" he repeated, more steadily this time; he planted his feet more firmly, hoping that it would help to keep his voice even. The girl sighed dramatically, her violet eyes seeming to flash as she met his gaze.
"Such a weak-minded fool after all, Dib," she said, and then laughed again. She shook her head, navy locks brushing her shoulders as she looked down. "And here I swore you were better..."
Dib was shaking now, from head to toe. "You're a hallucination- you have to be..." he said in a shallow voice, unaware that he was beginning to hyperventilate.
The girl looked up again with those flashing eyes and then rose, approaching one slow step at a time until, at last, she stood inches from him. Half a head shorter than the boy, at least, she leaned up until their noses almost touched. Dib's breath came in ragged gasps, his whole body frozen by her proximity, his mind sent spinning by her wild, feral scent. And her eyes- almost hypnotic -held his gaze captive. They flashed again, sending an odd dizziness swirling through his head- shattering his thoughts.
The girl cocked her head in an almost questioning manner, although her manner was still casual and cold. She reached forward- plucked a strawberry from the bowl he held and bit into it slowly, coloring her lips red with the juice; swallowing slowly before inclining her head, watching him through her long lashes.
"Oh I'm very real, Dib," she said softly. "I'm as real as I ever was."
Then she was gone, her sudden absence leaving him as limp as a doll. As though his visitor had been holding him up, Dib slumped to the ground and then, perhaps more tired than he had realized, fell unconscious right there on his bedroom floor.
... ... ...
Dib woke the next morning, when his alarm went off, with a horrible pain in his back and a throbbing headache. He was, though, back in his own bed, and with the blankets tucked around him. In that moment, it was very easy to shrug off the girl's visit as a demented dream.
"You should not fall asleep on the ground, in the future."
Upon bolting upright, Dib's vision flooded with stars and he groaned, hardly able to make out Miz leaning against his door.
"Don't worry, I'll be gone before your family awakens," the other boy said with a devilish smirk. "Simply know that it was a hassle to get you into bed- and even a harder task to resist certain temptations."
Without allowing his host time to reply, Miz bounded up into the rafters with impossible speed, scrambling into the air vent that Dib decided he needed to block off, AC and heating he damned. Scrabbling out of bed, Professor Membrane's son hurried to get ready for Skool, throwing on his old black jacket, for it looked like it might rain, and shoving thoughts of his late night visitor from his mind.
It couldn't have been her... because she... never...!
Suddenly, halfway out the door with a piece of toast in his mouth, Dib pulled up short. Maybe... she did exist...!'
"Yeah... yeah!" he said aloud, something slipping into place. "She wasn't part of my hallucinations, at least not that side of her. Yeah... not the human side of her! Of course I imagined everything else, but there really was a human girl named Tak...! And she was in my bedroom last night! Miz is proof of it!
"But... she didn't need to be real for me to faint like that," he acknowledged reluctantly, "and finding me on the floor is really the only thing Miz can vouch for..."
Realizing belatedly that his attention had slipped to to the point where he had begun to speak out loud (an old, seemingly inescapable habit), Dib clamped his mouth shut. Sprinting off toward Skool, he was more than relieved to push the girl from his mind. Several blocks later, though- after he had slowed to a walk -a horrible realization hit him, stopping him in his tracks.
Did I…?
No.
I didn't. I… forgot.
When was the last time...?!
The Skool's late penalties he damned, Professor Membrane's son turned and raced back home, finding Gaz already gone to Skool and his father gone to work. Tearing the door open, he bolted up to his room, slipping on the stairs and coming away with a nasty skinning on one knee. Hissing with pain, he scrambled on all fours for a moment before bursting into his room, leaving the door hanging open as he skidded into his bathroom.
It was with shaking hands that he found the small orange vial, sitting down heavily and spreading a clean blue towel out on the floor. With frantic haste he dumped the whole bottle of little white pills out before him.
And then he began to count.
When the number of pills before him was revealed, he felt the color drain from his face. Disbelief surging through him, he recounted, and then recounted again. Yet Professor Membrane's son was infallible, and each time the same number came up.
"42... I should... only have 36... I've... missed three days...!"
In some ways, it was relieving- an explanation for the strange things that had been occurring, for the girl in his room that had obviously been a demented hallucination. Yet at the same time, it was horrifying, unthinkable, disastrous- after two years of taking them religiously, Miz's presence was enough to disrupt his routine this much; to threaten his sanity this much.
"Oh god, oh god, oh god..." Tears in his eyes, the young boy began to gather up his little white lifelines, gasping softly. If Dad notices... oh god, this is... I've let this get so out of HAND...!
If... I'm off my meds... if Tak's already been here, then it's only a matter of time before-!
"Dib?"
The boy froze at the voice, so familiar and painful and wonderful- so exceptionally beautiful that he was tempted to throw himself headlong into the insanity so that he might listen to it forever. It was fearfully and hopefully that he looked over his shoulder, and he was both relieved and disappointed to find a familiar, human boy standing in the doorway.
"Miz." After a moment, both emotions gave way to an exhausted anger. "Miz, get out. You don't have any business in my house."
Not surprisingly, Miz didn't obey, walking briskly into the bathroom and crouching over the other boy's shoulder. When he saw the pills his eyes widened, and Dib's face heated with shame.
"What are those?" Miz's voice was surprisingly dangerous, inferring that he already knew exactly what they were. Dib, hiccuping with suppressed sobs and sitting, vulnerable, on his bathroom floor, stared up at the other boy.
"It's my medication," he choked out, and then groped around on the towel, desperate to make the thoughts ravaging his mind go away; to stop Miz from transforming into someone else, someone who didn't exist.
Miz moved in, however, before he could get ahold of one, kicking the towel and sending the whole lot skittering across the bathroom floor. He grabbed the other boy's arm and then punched him, hard, in the gut; Dib gagged softly, a little bit of sick dripping down his chin from the force of the hit.
"You bastard...!" Professor Membrane's son groaned, groping blindly for the little white things, his eyes closed against the tears that slipped down his cheeks. "Miz, I need those...!"
"The Dib needs no such thing!" Miz snapped, dragging him back and wiping the tears and vomit from the other boy's face with his sleeve.
"I need them, Miz...!" Dib wailed like a frightened child, trying to get free of his concerned friend's arms. "They're not illegal, I really do need them! The doctor said! Miz, without them I can't be sure what's real and what isn't! I can't be for sure that you're real right now! And that's terrifying, Miz, it's terrifying!"
Eyes softening with pity and distress, Miz reached down and retrieved the little bottle, reading the label carefully before picking up two of the little white pills and holding them out. The panicked boy gulped them down immediately, dry, taking a deep breath to calm himself and not quite succeeding.
"Thanks, Miz."
"..." Slowly letting Dib slip from his arms, Miz stood and stalked from the room, leaving his classmate to shakily gather the spilled pills. He paused briefly in the doorway, then shook his head and vanished around the corner. Dib, grateful, was in no hurry to follow.
Eventually, however- realizing that one could only hide in his bathroom for so long -Professor Membrane's son rose unsteadily, using the wall for partial support. It took him a few minutes to make it down the stairs, but by then the kitchen had been filled with the various scents of Miz's cooking- toast and eggs and bacon. When Dib appeared in the doorway, he didn't even turn from the stove.
"Human medication should not be taken on an empty stomach."
"I-I'm fine, Miz, really..." Dib began, but the other boy gave him no room for argument, turning briefly and sweeping out the kitchen chair with one foot.
"Sit."
Reluctantly Dib sat down, still uncertain of why the other boy was being so kind; it seemed to go against his nature. But a steaming plate of breakfast was set down in front of him before he could figure it out, Miz twirling a spatula deftly with a piece of bacon poking out of his mouth. He cocked his head expectantly, and Dib laughed.
"I promised George that I wouldn't let you eat bacon," he said and, before he could think it through, stood up and leaned dangerously close to Miz's face. He withdrew, a moment later, with the piece of bacon clamped between his own teeth.
Miz blinked, shocked for a moment, and then softened. "The Dib is cruel," he scoffed, then turned back to the stove. "Good thing I thought to make a second panful," he added, waving another slice of the breakfast meat over his shoulder.
"No fair!" Professor Membrane's son objected, getting up and lunging for his classmate. Still slightly unsteady on his feet, he missed as Miz spun away and turned, pinning him to the stovefront with one foot, pan of bacon in hand.
"Try to take Miz's bacon- see where it gets you!" he laughed, then withdrew his foot. No sooner had he, however, than Dib pushed off of the stove and flung himself at his surprised friend, sending them both flying in a shower of bacon slices.
"Haha!" Dib crowed, the trauma of the morning momentarily forgotten as he pinned his classmate to the kitchen floor, triumph rushing through him. "I win!"
"You wish, Dib-stink!" Bucking, Miz managed to flip their positions and send them tumbling across the floor in a gleeful mess of play-fighting. Blows were exchanged, but none too serious, and when at last Miz had subdued his companion, neither was anything worse than aching and short of breath.
"Victory!" the new boy crowed. "Victory for Miz!"
"Get off me, you jerk...!" Dib huffed with a laugh. "Fine, you win, just-"
"What is the meaning of this?!"
Dib tried to bolt up, but Miz was still on top of him and the whiplash snapped his head back, knocking it against the floor painfully. Groaning, he pushed desperately at his classmate, who belatedly let him up. Staggering, one hand to his head and both eyes tightly closed, he turned in the direction of the voice.
"I-I can explain, Dad...!"
Professor Membrane was staring around the kitchen in confused horror, his eyes practically bugging out of his goggles. Miz stood a moment later, looping one arm casually around Dib's shoulders and smirking.
"The Dib was complaining of missing breakfast this morning," he said easily, "and so Miz took it upon himself to kidnap him from Skool and make him a proper breakfast."
"Who are you to kidnap my son?!" the irate father demanded, spluttering.
"I am his friend," Miz declared, pulling Dib closer to him; the boy flushed unexpectedly at the protective contact, avoiding his father's gaze.
For a moment Professor Membrane maintained his stunned silence, then cleared his throat. "Well," he said bruskly, "you should both be at Skool, and I suspect you both know it." He shot a meaningful look at his son, who flinched back at the unspoken threat.
Well aware if the implications, Dib crammed a piece of bacon hurriedly into his mouth and grabbed Miz by the arm before saying, "Yes, Dad! We'll go right now!" Then he shot towards the door, only to lurch, off balance, and fall flat on his back when Miz didn't move an inch.
"Miz will decide when we go to Skool," the boy said, his voice dangerously low. "You, Professor, do not know what is best for my Dib."
Professor Membrane's eyes bugged again, and he took a step forward. "That's my son you're talking about!" he roared, but Miz didn't flinch.
"You do not know what is best for Dib," he repeated calmly, staring up at the larger man and casually reaching forward, plucking Professor Membrane's coffee cup right out of his hand and taking a sip. Then he leaned back on the table, waving said cup nonchalantly as he added, "Miz knows you mean well, foolish human, but at some point I must step in to stop you from doing more damage."
Dib's eyes were wide with horror; he belatedly darted forward and clapped one hand over Miz's huge mouth, wrapping the other arm around his classmate's neck. "He's just a bit impulsive, Dad! He didn't mean any of that!"
Miz, annoyed at being handled in such a way, bit the other boy's hand, and Dib's sentence ended with a yelp of pain. "I meant every word of it!" Miz managed to spit before his mouth was covered again.
Professor Membrane could only stare, his eyes flicking between his son and Miz, Dib and the stranger in his kitchen. Then, voice shaking with barely surprised anger, he said, "Get out of my house. Go to Skool, both of you. Son, we'll discuss this when you return this afternoon."
Nodding furiously, sick with dread, Dib managed to half-lead, half-wrestle his classmate out the door, closing it firmly as if to block out the morning's events. Miz huffed indignantly, straightening his shirt.
"We must deal with your parental unit one of these days, my Dib."
Hardly able to reply, Dib only said, "That's not the way to do it, Miz; that's certainly not the way."
(A/N) I…. am super exhausted. *crawls off to die* But I really hope you liked the chapter! Please review- it means the world to me! Reviewers get hints as to the next chapter~
NOTE: I'd just like to add a disclaimer here that I'm not anti-medication (for myself, yes; for other people, no). Dib's meds are cast in a very negative light in this story simply because everyone, including Miz, knows that they're doing more harm than good. Just… wanted to put that out there.