Alright, chapter thirteen and a lot begins to transcend here. The war is over and the men have a chance to be who they want to be once they learn who they are aside from soldiers of war. We catch a glimpse of the men as fathers. I'm actually very satisfied with daddy Zim here. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 13- Dear Theodosia/Laurens Interlude

"Dear Laurent,

I am pleased to inform you that Joshua Reed Membrane was born early in the morning of September the thirtieth. If there was ever a way to describe a child, it would be that he's perfect. All ten fingers and toes, perfect length and weight. I wish you could see him, when you arrive back, please stop by. He was named in honor of his uncle, Joshua Ryder, who died fighting for our independence. He was counted among the dead.

Please write soon, my friend. I miss you.

-Dib."

Joshua Membrane was born as Dib arrived home. He heard his son's cries and his heart melted. The child was physically perfect. He was a stamp of his father, down to the jet-black hair, with the exception of his eyes-those were his mother's blue eyes.

"I wonder how she pushed that head out," Zim thought aloud, earning daggered glares from the father of the child.

"Our heads are NOT big."

"Yes they aaaaare," Gir replied solemnly beside him, dressed again as a doctor against Dr. Hooper, who had delivered the babe.

He was in absolute awe of his child, who was named for Amelia's brother who had died in the battle, after the bodies were recovered. Alexander returned with his brother and the family mourned over his death. Dib elbowed Zim to pay his respects, sneering at the alien who blankly stared at the dead young man. Amelia left to tend to Zinovia and Joshua, needing to be occupied with the children and unable to attend—unable to see her brother in a casket. Bishop held Gretchen as she cried.

Laurent and Skoodge remained in the south, Madge and Blake eventually made their way back home. Initially, with the exception of Dib and Zim, who had their families to tend to, none of the men knew what to do with themselves thereafter. Madge resumed work in the warehouse, frequently communicating with Skoodge on his expected return. Skoodge just kept replying that he would be home soon. Blake returned to his tailoring deep within the belly of the city where he had originated from.

As promised, Zim removed Gaz from the Ryder home. He was grateful for their services towards Gaz and his daughter, but he would find housing elsewhere. Dib was saddened to see his sister and niece go, but he knew the time would come. Zim had expanded the base in the warehouse to accommodate his mate and child, providing oxygen and housing. Here, he could spent more time with Zinovia, holding her small hands as she learned to take her steps in the vacuous living room.

The human form of her rejected the progressive chip he wanted to implant within her. He had to accept her as is and learn from her, instead. Irken babes walked on their own minutes after birth. Zinovia had taken months. He was certain her hybrid brain was challenged and processing her motor skills. But, it was for the better, as these delayed skills were saving her and rendering her normal among the other human babies.

It didn't stop Zim from being left in awe at her, her tiny legs making those conscious steps. He caught her when she fell, always making tiny vows to her to always catch her. Fatherhood placed Zim in a whole other predicament. He wanted nothing more than to make her life as enriched as possible, dedicating this mission to her. He would take over this planet for her. Zim watched Gaz rock her one evening, her small hands reaching up to study her mother's face. This was her way of communicating with them. She showed affection through physical contact. She babbled, as she was now, as Gaz brushed her finger along her daughter's cheek.

Moreover, when she was placed in the crib to sleep, Gir was asleep beside her, dressed as a dog to not scare her until she was able to comprehend just what Gir was. Nevertheless, every night, Gir was curled up beside Zinovia like the good watchful playmate he turned out to be for her.

He was in awe from the way her cheeks puffed when she was frustrated, to her heart wrenching cries. However, once she began talking, there was no stopping her. At one years old, her brain was like a sponge, learning dozens of new words every day and Zim beamed with pride. He carried her in his arms, taking her to the office to map out. She held the compass in both hands and pretended to design plans with her father. Zim turned around to see what she was doing and wondered if her tiny baby brain was onto something good.

At a year old, Dib and Amelia managed to get their own little house. It was small and just enough on what Dib could afford in his earnings and what Amelia made in mending and sewing. Joshua learned to crawl and walk. Dib had never felt anything like it before, the amount of love a parent could possess towards their child. Especially now, Dib couldn't understand how his own father could have left him. He could never imagine leaving Joshua, not when those big blue eyes looked up at him and when he cried for his dada to come.

"I promise, my little man. And you have my word, I will never leave you." He squeezed the infant to him. Amelia watched from the doorway and walked into the room, placing her hand on his shoulder as he turned around to look at his wife. "I'll never leave either of you."

He laid on the floor with Joshua and showed him pictures that he himself drew of some mythical creatures he had learned about. He performed a lot of visuals during story time, which the little boy clapped his hands with delight as he sat up.

Dib and Laurent wrote frequently back and forth to one another. Dib had hopes that Laurent would return back home to see his son, and they could go for drinks.

"Dearest Laurent,

You should see Joshua, and how he has grown. He takes on so much of my traits. He is alert and aware of his surroundings. You should see him. I wish you could. You'd fall in love just as hard.

-Dib."

"Dearest Dib,

I hope that it won't be too much longer now until I can join you. You sound absolutely enamored by your little doppelganger. Good. Fatherhood becomes you, and now you can fulfill every one of your promises that you relayed to me prior to his coming. I miss you and the others terribly, but there is much I have to do. The war for our independence may be over, but the war to free the slaves will never be. And, I will seek to do that. Fortunately, I have some assistance in that friend of Zim's.

Till we write again,

-Laurent."

At two years old, Zinovia was up, walking and running on her own. Zim was thankful the young child didn't have spider legs to roam their halls with. But the echoing of her giggles gave her away. Zim often found the young child in the dead of night, roaming their library for something to read.

"Should you not be asleep right now?" Zim asked the young one playfully. The toddler turned around to face her father with a grin.

"Papa, I want a story."

"I told you a story of Invader Blarg and the Great Garb-Gnats before bedtime, Zin," Zim said as he crossed the room to reach his daughter, scooping her up beneath her armpits. He looked up at the dozens of books in their library, although he made certain to dedicate a spot for her learning books so she could feel included when Zim came in here to study.

"But, I want another. My brain is itchy for more!" At two years old, she was eloquent in her speech. She was clear, concise. Her eyes expressive, defining. As much as she had his eyes, they were her mother's shape and he found it hard to resist those thick lashes when she batted them. His daughter was coquettish and figured out early that she could use it to her advantage.

"Story time!" Gir squeaked.

"…You're up, too?"

"Story time! Cookies and milk!"

"Shush! Keep it down! Do you want to wake up the whole house?"

Zim glanced at the clock. He scooped his daughter into his arms and took her into the kitchen to fix her a warm drink. She held the small cup in her hands as he carried her back into the library to search through her sector of the library. The young girl shook her head in protect.

"Not these books? But which ones?"

Zinovia nearly spilled her warm beverage, although pointed towards the Big Book of Irken Lore. Zim perked a brow at this before walking to pluck the book off the shelf. Yawning, he sat down in one of the big armchairs; his daughter prepped on his lap with the glass of milk and began to slowly drink it. He glanced down at her, opening the book and searched for a good one to tell.

"You know, our people have been taking over planets for centuries. This Invader here, Invader Smog. He took over the Bellowing Borks back in the day."

"Who are they?"

"The Bellowing Borks made horrible, sickly noises to attack their foes. They made them go to sleep before they….eh…."

"Did they eated them?" She asked. Zim blinked cautiously at this, uncertain if she was too young to really understand. "Papa, were they eated?"

Zim sighed. "Yes, the Bellowing Borks ate their prey."

"Swallowed up whoooole," Gir chimed in, earning a glare from Zim before dedicating his attention back to his daughter who seemed to put thought into this.

"Because they're hunters, right? And hunters need prey to live."

Zim placed a hand on top of her head, threading her purple locks between his fingers. "Yes, hunters need prey to live. Invaders need planets to take over. Irk is a very dominant planet, and that's what you are—half Irken." He poked her nose gently, reaching down to help tip the glass so she could reach the bottom. She licked the milk on her upper lip and looked up at her father.

"How did you know about The Bellowing Borks?" Zim asked cautiously, though skeptically.

Zinovia pointed down at the robot, whose tail twitched happily. Zim was uncertain whether or not to be angered by this. He thought she was too young to understand, and in most young ladies, stories like that would scare them. However, there she was, drinking her milk and having a developed conversation like it was a topic of the weather. Either, the child didn't truly understand what she was talking about, or she was as fearless as her father.

He took the glass from her as her eyes began to droop. Truly, a remarkable child.

At three years old, Joshua loved sitting on his father's lap for a good story. Amelia spoiled him with lullabies and picture books. Dib continued to animate and bring the stories to life. To further bring in some income, Dib looked to heighten his education and become an investigator. Most men became lawyers or shopkeepers, but Dib loved investigating. No one told him he couldn't do it, and he wasn't about to allow anyone to. Joshua often begged for his father to take him, which he did one day. The three-year-old walked around the interior of the house and came face to face with a floating entity.

The spirit was elderly, and did not appear malevolent to the young boy who innocently waved at him. Dib rounded the corner to see his son talking to no one in particular until he realized his son had encountered what was troubling the house. It was no mouse. It was the spirit who owned the house prior to the new couple moving in.

Dib kneeled beside his son, looking up to see if he could see any hint of the spirit. "What does he say, son?"

Joshua took a moment. "He likes them. He didn't know he scared them."

Dib licked his lips, hopefully. "Will he leave them to peace?"

"He says he's okay now." And followed that with a thumbs up.

Joshua prattled on afterward about how much he liked talking to the man, and how the man told him he found peace in speaking to him. Dib ruffled his son's hair. While some believed, there were also others who didn't and saw it as a father indulging his little boy in the scary stories he was told at night. Overall, it wasn't taken seriously, but found adorable, because of Joshua. His son had a gift, and Dib hoped Joshua would later come to nurture it. He had a way with the paranormal, and the entities took to him.

Dib remembered Amelia's stories about how she saw spirits in her youth. Perhaps Joshua had inherited her gift. Then again, he learned that spirits let themselves be known to those they wanted to. They could be fickle, and then they could be cooperative. It was a game of chance. Young Joshua would bound through the house upon their return, Amelia tending to their one-year-old daughter, Diana.

He felt, for the first time, satisfied with life. He gave Amelia a kiss, followed by Diana who adopted the same black hair and brown eyes as her father. However, that face was all Amelia.

"Dear Laurent,

You should see Joshua now. He is smart as a whip! He picks up on things quicker than most children his age. And, he wants to read. I'm assuming that comes from Amelia's influence, but I'm not complaining. Our daughter Diana is just learning now to take her first steps. She grows more beautiful every day. You and I will have to grill her suitors when they arrive when she becomes of age. When are you returning?

-Dib."

"Dearest Dib,

I am uncertain when I'll return. But, Joshua and Diana sound like lovely children, indeed. You're doing a wonderful job, Dib. I hope to return to you all soon. I am afraid I'm short on time, but I wanted to pen this letter to you before time has expired. Until we meet again.

-Laurent."

Zim placed Zinovia down for a nap, hearing the staggering footsteps from the other room, followed by the crash of the nightstand toppled over. His antennae perked up, listening for other sounds or movements. There was a final thud and Zim stepped out of the doorway, taking Gaz's form on her side. His blood ran cold, kneeling quickly at her side. He couldn't think of anything else to do aside from lift her up and carry her over to their bed. Her breathing was shallow, although her body ran along like fire. Knitting his brows together, if he had any to knit, Zim began to undress her. Humans lacked rejuvenating methods such as their PAK's provided. They had their medical methods, and he would have to reach out to someone who could possibly assist them.

"mmm, Zim?" Gaz moaned.

"What happened? How long has this been going on?"

"The past few days."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Gaz quieted, wincing as her body felt the aches. There was a fever going around, one that began to claim individuals in their sleep. Gaz exposed herself when she went to the market, left herself susceptible. Zim shook his head and reached behind him and into his PAK to fetch a needle, pricking her skin and sampling her blood to see if he could identify what was wrong and create a serum to cure her.

"You humans lack the medicine to cure these fevers."

"You can't cure a fever, Zim. You let it break."

Zim wasn't listening. "Then I shall break this fever with my Irken medicine."

She shivered with a chill only she felt. "Get ice."

He couldn't allow the water to touch his skin. However, if she knew what needed to be done, then he would trust her. Zim summoned Gir to run the errand of fetching the ice, handing the robot a bucket. The robot saluted and took off with the bucket that was bigger than he was.

"Hmm, it's highly viral," Zim uttered as he typed away. A leg reached behind him to put a blanket over Gaz, hoping she would begin to sweat this virus out. Germs were nasty in their own right. Zim did what he could to provide his family with the proper devices to keep them safe from them. Nevertheless, he supposed now he couldn't defeat every single germ out there. After catching a glimpse at his mate, he wished he could.

To the matter of Zinovia, he would have to have her taken to a safer location than this. She would begin asking questions soon and seeing her mother in her current condition would make her upset. He cringed at his only thought. He should have been damned if he would leave his daughter in the hands of his most loathed enemy. But, who else was there? Madge didn't know a thing about smeets, and Skoodge, who was the better option of the two, was planting stations down south for when Zim was ready to take over.

"Zim? It's the middle of the night," Amelia said as she opened the door. "Do you want to come inside?" She had to be courteous to family, as their children were cousins.

"I truly hate to ask this of you, but I require you to watch Zinovia for some time while I tend to important matters at home. I cannot determine when I'll be able to retrieve her, but hopefully, it'll be soon."

Amelia frowned at that, reaching out for the little girl. "Zim, what's wrong?" She dropped the pleasantries, feeling the change in his tone and in the air. Something was amiss.

The Irken fought to look her in the eye. "There is some viral infection going around, yes? Gaz caught it. I don't want Zinovia around for it." He looked down at the sleeping smeet.

"I can send for-" However, Zim cut her off, shaking his head.

"Your human doctors won't do what I haven't already tried." He mouthed to Amelia the next bit so Zinovia didn't hear, "She is not getting better, I'm afraid."

Amelia turned her head back to the house where Dib was putting their children to bed. She could hear him telling them a story, the roar of their tiny shrills of laughter behind her. For all the time she had known Zim, he always wore a scowl, anger, resent, hatred. He wore them like secondary masks. This was the first time she had seen him truly wear fear.

"We'll care for her, Zim."

Zim nodded and handed over his daughter. The way he felt then was indescribable—passing along his only child into the hands of other humans. Amelia's hands were warm, though, even through his gloves. There must have been a fire roaring inside. He was silent, even as Amelia curled Zinovia to her chest. She reached out her hand, reaching for his gloved one as she held his hand into hers. For all of the mixed feelings she had towards him, she couldn't find a good enough reason to hate him at this moment.

The heat over the past few years had died down between him and Dib since the war was over and Dib did his utmost to squelch the floating phrases that Dib had won them the war. In all good conscience, he couldn't take all of the credit when Zim had a share in the victory, as well. However, that couldn't and wouldn't stop the people from believing what they wanted to. Membrane had gone back to being a man of science, wanting to wash away the title of 'General' and replace it with 'Professor', he just felt more comfortable that way. That didn't stop him from spreading the pride of his son's ability to delegate, which ultimately left Dib to be a loved individual with the people, at the moment.

Amelia could hardly hold Zim's feelings against him. The further she looked into his eyes; she could see that right now that didn't matter. However, she felt helpless towards Gaz's cause. Fevers and illnesses like that took lives and without warning. Hardly anyone recovered, and it was a matter of when to tell Dib. If memory served correctly, that was also how their mother died.

"Seeing as how the Dib is her brother…I'll leave it at your discretion to tell him."

Rubbing the little girl's back, she never removed her eyes from Zim. "I'll handle it. You have enough. You should go back to Gazlene now, I'm certain she's calling for you."

Zim, at a loss for words, could only shake his head before touching his daughter's ringlet and turned to descend the staircase when he saw a sight he thought he wouldn't see for another year or so.

"Skoodge?"

"Amelia," Skoodge said out of breath, nodding to Zim, before turning back to the woman. "I-I have a letter for your husband."

"Where is Laurent? I'm sure Dib will want to see his friend." Skoodge's face read volumes into his reply as he held out the letter, urging her to accept it.

"In here."

Amelia's heart sank. She never knew him personally, but Laurent was one of Dib's closest friends. She thought of the turn of events in her head, looking down at both the letter and the sleeping tot. A tear escaped her eye, as this evening turned quickly from warm to frigid in a matter of minutes.

"Thank you, both. I'll tend to Dib now. Thank you." She had no desire to be so dismissive towards them. She felt Zim's eyes linger on her as she closed the door behind them. Looking down at the little girl, she was uncertain of what her fate would be without her mother, if Zim would be able to parent on his own. She had an idea of what lied within the letter, but she couldn't confirm nor deny until she opened it up.

Amelia first went to put Zinovia to bed in the spare guest room, tucking the little girl in, she clutched the letter to her chest, took a deep breath, and proceeded to search for her husband. She found him watching over their children as they slept their storybook in his lap. She had to be strong and deliver the news on both fronts.

Be brave, Amelia. Be brave for your family.

She found her husband with a storybook in his hand, finishing one of the more familiar tales as the children slumbered soundly. She swallowed before parting her lips to speak, "Dib, I have a letter for you."

He picked his head up, however, didn't turn to face his wife. His voice was light and airy as he replied, "It must be from Laurent. I haven't heard from him in weeks. Finally, he's getting back to me on his progress."

Amelia shook her head, feeling the lump develop in her throat. "No, it's not."

She watched him stiffen in his seat, turning around finally to face his wife as he rose and withdrew himself from the bedroom. He closed the door behind him and eyed her and then the letter that was beginning to crumple in her hand.

"Maybe you should sit down for this."

Dib listened to her and sat in his office, turning in his seat to face her. Amelia felt the chill grow in the room then. Her eyes glanced around, swelling with the onset of tears.

"Will you read it to me?"

She opened the contents of the letter, trying her hardest to not cry. This was only the first of two items of business she needed to address with him.

"On February the 10th, Lieutenant Laurent Clemens was killed in battle. He sought to free the slaves of a wealthy landowner, which began the proceedings of another dance of firearms. He was shot and killed in the process. He will remain here until his family can send for his remains. The freedom he wished for now dies with him."

She took a moment to compose herself, feeling the tears rolling in heated waves down her cheeks. Peering up from behind the letter, she saw Dib sitting there. She knew shock when she saw it; the tears were cold as his blood ran with it.

"Dib?"

She couldn't bear to ask if he was alright. She knew he wasn't. She reached out for her husband, only for him to withdraw. Amelia had to address the next bit. She was almost there to finishing what she started.

"Dib, there's one more. Zim stopped by with Zinovia…Gaz caught the fever."

She felt those words leave her like the bullet of one of Dib's guns and strike him in his heart.

"Is she…"

"No, Zim wanted Zinovia out of harm's way."

Dib nodded at that. From one father to another, he could respect that. He stood up from his seat. He couldn't bear to look his wife in the eyes.

"I…I have a lot of work to do." He brushed past his wife, descending the staircase and closed the door to their own parlor where he fixed himself a drink. Dib took a hard swig of it before smashing the glass into the fireplace and crumpled to the floor in grief.

Amelia watched and listened as something caught her attention. She turned her head to see their children's bedroom door open. Swearing the door was closed, she walked over to check on the children. When she peered inside, she saw the spirit of a man standing between their beds.

Initially, she was taken aback. The spirit knelt down over Joshua, brushing translucent fingers over his hair gently. She presented an audible gasp as the spirit turned to face her, standing full and straight. Her eyes widened. His jacket was filled with bullet holes, and what appeared to be blood flowed from the wounds freely. She cupped her hand over her mouth, taking steps back from the bedroom. She couldn't scream, couldn't alert her husband. The spirit never once advanced towards her, and instead, he smiled and life appeared to flicker in his eyes before they swelled with tears. The spirit was making the transition from their world to the spirit world, where who knew what transpired behind heaven's gates.

"Laurent?"

Again, he smiled to her and offered her a bow.