Hey guys! Thank you for your reviews. By the way, did you enjoy your holidays?

So, yes, I'm back the very next day with the exciting part two to Winter's Helpless. I couldn't wait to finish this up, and I'm actually satisfied with how this turned out.

So, the idea that I had in mind pertaining to Membrane and Dib, especially, was during "Stay Alive" (which is coming up soon), when Washington calls Hamilton "son" and Hamilton spits back at him that he is not his son. That's going to be pretty strong, so, the father/son/daughter aspect will be touched upon again really soon. I'm intrigued to see how this will pan out, as well.

One of the couples, yes, will be Zim and Gaz for Burr and Theodosia. I've been reading up on a lot of interviews with Jhonen who said he would have paired Zim and Gaz together, and after watching several ZAGR videos on YouTube (a lot of the videos were done with Skillet songs, which I love Skillet. Made me so happy) I'm riding the train in this fic. But, the dialogue between the two felt natural, so yay!

Chapter Five- Helpless Part 2

Just as dinner had ended, the remainder of the guests arrived. Political gains, men with fortunes, people with whom Jacob Ryder could relate to. The plates were taken away and all guests were escorted from the dining room and back into the parlor. Angelica took her place at the piano, her bun following her head as she swayed with the music emitting from her fingers against the ivory keys.

"Such beautiful music," Skoodge admired.

"And she's only fourteen years old."

"Only that young? I was tossing knives at fourteen weeks," Zim snitted, which caused the Ryder senior to look at the young man skeptically.

"I apologize for his behavior, Mr. Ryder, my friend is in poor spirits this evening."

"I hope a little dancing will lighten the mood, then," Jacob replied to Skoodge. "Or perhaps some spirits?"

"I believe spirits will do more harm than good in his state," Skoodge quickly replied. It was enough many eyed their dishes, which had been untouched—human food poisonous among the Irkens. They didn't wish to show disrespect, however, they declined as politely as they were able. Zim's anxiety of human food and the dangers it caused nearly led to an outburst, one Dib's sister found amusing.

"He has a number of allergies, Mr. Ryder. There is no means of disrespect to your home." Dib chimed in, which caused Zim to tense. He didn't need Dib saving him. He had already done enough.

"I don't need you to come to my aid, Dib stink!" Zim spat. "Zim can defend himself."

"Come on, Zim, why don't we go outside for some fresh air," Skoodge attempted to move his friend from where he sat. Zim smacked the other's hand away and stalked out of the room, stomping his feet along the way.

"Mr. Ryder, I apologize for my friend."

"It's quite alright. His palate is unaccustomed to such rich food. I completely understand." Although, as Mr. Ryder uttered such, Dib took notice that Zim hardly ate at all, swirling his fork around in the mess hall and again around the campfire. Rations were hard to come by, as was clean water and Zim consumed, it seemed, neither. Back at the office, he never would have noticed, as Dib remained in the back. But out in the open, Zim displayed peculiar habits.

One crucial detail stuck out to Dib's mind: he never bathed with the other men. As it was that some men were simply shy; but come to think of it, Skoodge and Madge didn't bathe, either. It was some secret men's club that they bathed together, yet separate from the rest of the group. Rumors did spread, but lasted shortly.

"Dib, do not occupy your mind on Zim. I've noticed you seem…distracted," Laurent commented as he approached the other with a glass of port wine in hand.

"I guess I just feel a little guilty," Dib half lied. He couldn't reveal himself and his intentions just yet. He had begun to establish a small group of friends and he didn't want to lose them because of his beliefs.

"Nonsense, General Membrane chose you over everyone to be his aide-de-camp, which is truly an honor," Laurent replied. "No one should pass an opportunity like that up. Besides, Dib, you're amazing, and I mean that."

Dib swirled his drink around in his glass, looking away from Laurent to see the two sisters again from the other side of the room.

"You know what? Thanks, Laurent. I really appreciate you saying that." He took a hearty swig of his drink for confidence. "I'm going to do something I should have a long time ago." It had to all be in his head, these notions of Zim. He had no concrete proof to just start babbling about aliens, or ghosts. However, he did have a reasonable excuse to not like Zim because Zim was alone with his sister.

"And what might that be?" Laurent inquired with a slight frown.

"I'm going to go talk to the Ryder sisters."

Handing his drink to Laurent, he proceeded to cross the room. Gretchen was a handsome woman in herself, he also wanted to get to know Amelia.

"Don't blow it," Gaz said audibly as she stood beside Laurent and looked up at her brother's friend. "He's going to fuck it up, isn't he?" However, Laurent didn't reply.

Startled, Gretchen nearly spilled her drink, squeaking in the process to enunciate what she was feeling before settling herself down. She had only a few moments alone with Dib, and he had kissed her hand. He was a gentleman, that was the first fact she noted.

"Ladies, it's a pleasure to see you again in better circumstances." He bowed to them. Amelia felt her heart light up again in her chest.

"The pleasure is ours," Amelia replied, her tone soft and threading the words together eloquently. "We've inquired whether or not we would make acquaintance again."

"Have you?" His eyes widened gently, feeling the familiar burn in his cheeks. He was tempted to feel them for effect.

"Allow me to introduce ourselves. That is my sister Gretchen. My name is Amelia."

Dib reached for her hand the same way he had with Gretchen. Soft, yet worked hands. Perhaps with a sewing needle, or other work, but these were hands that busied themselves. He pressed his lips to the back of one, hearing the audible hitch in her breath which caused Dib to shiver lightly. Slowly, he took his time lifting his eyes to meet hers.

Gretchen watched this still. He hung in that stance for some time to savor her ladyship. Somehow, that disturbed Gretchen and riled up a spark of jealousy she never wanted to experience. Furthermore, she did not want to fight against her sister. If Gretchen were to tell Amelia that she, too, was interested in him, Amelia would bow down and make room for her. As much as part of her wished to and wanted that to happen, she didn't.

"A pleasure, Ms. Amelia."

"Just Amelia," she breathed.

"Tell us a little about yourself, Mr. Dib?"

"There isn't much to say," Dib retorted.

The young woman blinked slowly, "everyone has a story that should be told," Amelia followed up.

"Mine is a story still being written. Just you wait, Madame, there is so much I have yet to accomplish."

"You speak French? My sister is quite fluent in French."

"And you?"

"I speak very little, but I am always willing to learn. Languages came easy to Gretchen, isn't that right?"

Gretchen nodded in reply, struggling for the right words to say. "I've-I've studied for many years under a great tutor."

"It's nice to be in the company of learned women," Dib said with a smile.

"Where is your family from, then, if you hadn't a tutor?" Gretchen piped up.

Dib hesitated before replying to the women that his origins were unimportant. What was important was that he was in their company in the present. The past was nowhere to look back on, as he had nothing left there. Gretchen took a sip of her beverage before considering that fact number two insisted he was poor, otherwise he wouldn't hesitate in admitting his family history, or his origins. A clean cover.

Dib took another swig of drink as rounds were poured from Jacob Ryder's private stash. He felt more comfortable, laughing now and forgetting Zim for a moment's passing. Gretchen glanced between her sister and Dib as their eyes appeared fixed into one another's.

"Perhaps I should leave you two alone for a moment. I think I hear mother calling," she said briskly before her steps followed her pace to exit.

Dib watched Gretchen leave before offering her a wave, whether or not she saw it. He looked back at Amelia, sloshing the drink around in his glass. He felt looser, as what the wine was supposed to do and he was thankful for it. Dionysius was looking out for him this evening.

He could feel himself preparing to stutter, "I-I know this is going to sound like a crazy question."

"There is no such thing," Amelia assured. "For that is how we learn."

Dib felt his cheeks redden. He was uncertain what came over him to ask the following question, but it fell from his lips before he could over think it.

"Do you believe in ghosts?" It was certainly more plausible than aliens, his mind rationalized. This was a test to see if they were compatible. Dib was uncertain if he could find himself attracted to anyone who didn't believe, at least, a little.

Amelia expected a topic of the war, for that was on her list of questions to bring up to make better conversation. But ghosts? How did she respond to such a question? Then, something came to mind which would answer his question nicely.

"Actually, I saw my grandmother, Lily, after she passed on. It had to be a week after the funeral. My sister Sandra laughed at me for weeks because she couldn't see her, but my brother Joshua saw her, as well. She was wearing a gingham gown, her hair in a messy bun, and it was all so transparent. But, I could see every detail of her apron, the tiny rosebuds. The room, when she came to me, smelled like warm cookies. She always loved to bake, and she loved all of us so much."

Dib listened to her, and felt a longing of relief well up inside of him. She believed.

"How did it make you feel?" Dib asked.

"I wasn't scared, if that's what you mean. Although, I hear there are spirits who are malevolent. Some spirits, like some people, are out to do bad."

"I completely agree, Amelia," Dib replied with a smile as he clinked his glass against hers. "I believe in the paranormal, if you can believe that." He chuckled.

"I believe there is other life out there. If there are ghosts, who knows what else exists. But, I feel ghosts may very well be the extent of it."

"Before I lose my nerve, Ms. Amelia, may I call on you sometime?"

The glass nearly fell out of her hands. They hadn't been acquainted for that long, and already he wished to write to her? Amelia glanced towards the other women in the room, extending her arm towards the crowd in the room to exemplify her point; however, felt Dib pull her right back in. He knew what she was to say before she even said it.

"I'm not looking at the other women." Amelia felt her knees buckle beneath her as she swooned.

"I am not your ward, Laurent," Gaz snapped as she wrenched her arm from the others hold, finally sickened at the prospect of being watched over. Although Laurent didn't put up too much of a fight as his eyes lingered on Dib and the eldest Ryder daughter.

"So, he finally struck up the nerve to talk to a girl? I wonder where he got his balls from," she continued to huff in displeasure.

"Your brother has had them all along," Laurent replied vapidly. "Your brother is an amazing man, Gazlene. You don't give him nearly enough credit to try."

Laurent couldn't help but feel his own sense of longing as Dib engaged himself with the young woman. Since he met the young man, he had grown and began to unfurl into his own being. That is where he had gained this confidence from, he was given the chance to. But, now, Laurent couldn't help but feel this was the consequence he would be dealt with: losing the only man he ever cared for.

Gaz shook her head and left Laurent be. The man seemed to be wallowing within himself as she walked out of the room, passing the other Ryder sister who seemed to be writhing within herself. Was her brother that big of a deal? She certainly didn't think so. Gaz continued to press forward towards the outside of the house, wiping the sheen of sweat that had begun to develop on her brow. She saw the man her brother was always at odds with, the soldier who was talking about the painting with her.

"Zim, is it?"

His hair seemed to be askew as Zim continued to scratch at it.

"What's your problem?"

"This stupid, ugh! Curse this stupid hair piece thing!"

"Hair piece?" Gaz inquired. Zim jumped when he realized it wasn't Madge or Skoodge behind him, but the Dib's sister. Gaz said nothing, but took a seat beside Zim and looked out towards the skyline, up at the moon.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be inside with the other puffy gowns of doom?"

"I'd rather have a tooth extracted," Gaz murmured her reply, expressing further disdain for this party. "Would it be alright if I stayed out here with you? My annoying brother is too occupied at the moment to realize I'm gone. I finally have a moment to breathe."

Zim was quiet, uncertain if this was the right thing to do. However, he wanted her to stay. He didn't have an episode because he wanted her near. He froze when Gaz adjusted his hair piece, her body turned from the direction of the moon to Zim. He glanced over at her, initially jerking himself to whip her away in defense as she was close to exposing him. He could feel his antennae itch to be free, and her fingers hovered above them as she fixed his wig. He felt them twitch the more she appeared unafraid.

Instead of jerking, he simply moved away. "Eh…thank you." The application of gratitude was awkward on his tongue. But, she appeared satisfied, so, he figured he had done the right thing.

"You really hate your brother, don't you?" Zim asked.

"I can tell you hold a torch for his demise, as well," Gaz replied. "He's not a likeable person."

"His head is big."

"No argument there. A big head with nothing in it. Genetics is a bitch."

Zim found himself laughing at that. She was a curious creature, this Gaz, and smart. Many attractive qualities that an Irken desired in a strong mate. He found himself staring at her, bearing his own internal struggle. She was the perfect candidate, a far better match for Zim than Tenn or any of the other Irken females that were on this mission. But, she was also a human; the very race Zim seemed to dominate.

However, as future ruler of this planet, he had the right to take a queen and as many concubines as he desired. Zim had his pick of any of them, but right now, he was only looking at one. And the very first thing they had in common: they both equally hated Dib. Zim couldn't tell at this rate who hated him more and it was a thrill to find that out. It could have been like a game for them.

"Genetics is a funny thing, isn't it?" Zim murmured. He was the product of genetics and birthed by a cold robot arm. If Zim had parents, he didn't know who they were. He never gave much thought to offspring before, but if he had them, well, he would be better than some cold, unfeeling robot arm.

"Genetics made me related to him. He treats me like a little girl who can't hold her own."

"What about your life givers?"

"Life givers? You mean my parents? I don't know who our father was. Our mother died, and wasn't much of a mother after our father left. Hard to when everything was taken from you, which is why I've made it a point—a deliberate point—to not rely on anyone. My brother has tried to marry me off I don't know how many times, the weasel. I feel caged."

"He sounds like a rotten, disfigured weasel who barely deserves to live," Zim mused.

Gaz withheld her laughter. "You got that right," however, she snorted to suppress.

Zim took in much of what she said. She had no desire to marry and be tied down. He automatically registered that as a challenge, and one he was happy to accept. Court the Gaz, hurt the Dib because that is his younger sister, and then destroy the Dib.

"It's nice to meet someone else who hates him."

"It is as you have said. It isn't hard to hate him."

"You want to get out of here?" Gaz turned her head to Zim. Gaz no longer had the affinity to keep up any kind of ladylike attitude, if she possessed any of it left. She looked like one, she was treated like one until someone received a scowl from her. She didn't know where they would go, but she just wanted to distance herself from the house.

Zim looked back and over his shoulder. He would be leaving Madge and Skoodge behind, but he felt as though he deserved this little shred of victory as he plotted. Zim, however, had no idea what he was in store for with this young woman, or that the tables would eventually turn on him. Could Irkens love? Or were they as cold as the unfeeling robot arm? There was only one way to find out.

"Lead the way, Little Gaz."