Dib slowly stirred awake, though he was reluctant to. He felt so comfortable and warm, and his dreams had been pleasant for once…

He kept his eyes closed, floating in a state between wakefulness and sleep, enjoying the feeling. Though…he frowned. He felt a little too warm, and there was a pressure on his chest. Hopefully that wasn't the start of a cold. That be just great, on top of everything else—

The thought hit him like ice water, effectively waking him up. Everything that happened yesterday poured into his mind, and his muscles twitched as he fought against outright jolting up.

He slowly opened his eyes, looking down at his chest. Zim was still lying there, his face buried into the crook of Dib's neck. His breath was hot on his skin, and Zim in general radiated more heat than a human would. No wonder he felt so warm.

Dib glanced to the side, carefully reaching over and grabbing his glasses from the nightstand. The room was the same as it had been…yesterday? Probably yesterday. He had no idea how to tell what time it was down here, though.

He glanced at Zim again, then at the door. Maybe, if he was careful enough, he could move Zim without waking him.

But when he placed his hands under Zim's arms, the Irken made a cooing, chirping sound and snuggled further into him. Dib frowned, trying to keep his grip light and lift the alien's weight off of him…

Just then, Zim's antennae twitched, and he opened his eyes. "Awake already?" he said, not sounding tired or drowsy at all.

"Uh…yeah." Dib glanced at the door almost wistfully. Zim leaned forward, tapping his antennae against the top of Dib's head. "…what time is it now?"

Zim frowned in thought, eyes glazing over as the lights on his PAK flashed. "It's currently mid-morning. You've slept for over twelve hours, which is impressive, considering your usual sleep cycle."

Dib nodded, still looking at the door. Zim noticed and gripped Dib's chin, tilting his gaze back to himself. "Soon, Dib-thing," he said. "Your leg is almost fully healed. It won't be long, now."

"And I'm just supposed to sit here until then, doing nothing?" Dib grumbled, crossing his arms.

"I wouldn't say nothing," Zim countered. "I can help you to the computer, if you want. And there's plenty of things we can do without even leaving the bed…"

His hand rested on Dib's shoulder. Dib felt his face heat up, and he tried to beat away any ideas he was getting from that statement. "I, um…"

Zim reached behind him, into his PAK…and pulled out some board games, card games, and video game cartridges. "There are quite a few of these that need more than one player, after all," he continued. "And you've got to be better at Vort Chess than GIR is."

"…I haven't played that," Dib said, letting out a small sigh of relief. This whole thing was still too weird, but games were better than—

He quickly blinked, beating away the ideas again. Zim had already shoved aside all but one of the boxes, and was setting a holographic chess set up between himself and Dib.

"Trust me, you'll still be better," he said. "At least you have enough common sense to not try and chew on the board." That explained some of the bite marks Dib was initially just going to assume were some form of alien symbol or decoration.

"Yeah, I'm…not going to do that."

Zim smiled as the board flickered fully to life. "Now…prepare to be crushed under the weight of Zim's genius strategies, my human!"

They spent the rest of the morning playing Vort Chess. Zim won most of the early games, but once Dib started to get the hang of the rules, he began to win a few more of the games, or at least end them in ties.

For once, he wished he knew how to play regular chess so he could compare the rulesets and playing styles…but that could be something he looked into later, of course.

It must have been close to noon by the time Dib's stomach started to growl. Zim barked a few orders to the Computer, and the next thing he knew, trays with a sandwich, chips, and soda were placed on both of their laps. Dib noticed that his also held two of the same pills he had taken last night.

"Really?" he said, holding them up as Zim bit into his sandwich. "Nothing hurts except for my leg and throat. Do I really need to keep taking these?"

"Yes, because any amount of pain is unacceptable." Zim reached over and brushed his knuckles against Dib's throat. The bite he left there still felt sore to the touch, but swallowing his nerves hurt more.

"Do not worry, my little human." Zim patted his head. "You are very nearly done with the healing process!"

Dib scowled, quickly biting into his sandwich to hide his expression. It was…a normal sandwich. Very light on the meat and heavy on tomato and pickles, but still a sandwich.

Zim dug into his own meal, and Dib noted that his sandwich didn't have any meat in it…of course. As they ate, the Irken flopped over to lean his weight against Dib's side. Dib's skin prickled, and he resisted the urge to shove Zim away.

…after a minute, though, his presence didn't feel as off-putting. Like a warm weighted blanket.

Dib was nearly finished with his chips when Zim cleared his throat, tapping a claw next to the pills Dib had tried to hide under the chip bag. Dib sighed, picking them up again. "You're really not going to just let this go?"

"Nope." Zim poked his shoulder. "Eat."

Dib grumbled several complaints, but still swallowed the pills, washing them down with soda. Zim patted his head again, looking very smug.

Once they finished their meals, Zim tried to cajole Dib into playing video games with him. But once Dib saw they were just games from Earth, he lost interest and stubbornly insisted on playing something not from his planet.

Zim scowled…but gave in and brought out a card game. "Fine. Instead, you can lose to Zim at Shloptoponikinis."

"That's a mouthful. …and like I'd just let you win!"

"It's the abbreviation." Zim began to shuffle the cards with a flourish. "And you are destined to lose to me, always, in the end."

Dib scowled, now even more determined to win and wipe that smug look off of Zim's stupid face.

…of course, it was hard to win a card game when none of the cards were in a language he knew. Even the rules cards. And, just to be a jerk, Zim now refused to explain the rules so he could be smug about winning against Dib.

The little gremlin was probably lying about how well he was doing, too. Dib couldn't prove it, but there was little doubt.

He was about to start throwing cards at Zim when something on Zim's wrist started to beep. He looked down at it and groaned loudly.

"Ugh, GIR made a mess in the experiments room again," he said. "I need to clean it before it stains the walls." He hopped off the bed…and paused mid-step, turning his head to look back at Dib. "Would you like to use the computer?"

"Yeah!" Dib said, unable to hide his enthusiasm. He started to roll off the bed, planning on limping over, but of course, Zim was already at his side and scooping him into his arms. Zim quickly carried him over and plopped him in the chair, patting his head before running out the door.

Dib huffed and turned on the computer. All of the notes he made last night were still there, untouched. He cracked his knuckles and opened up more documents to record his thoughts.

He eventually ran out of things to write about Zim and aliens, so he began to poke through some of the other programs. There was one that was able to make blueprints…unfortunately, there weren't any of Zim's plans saved through it. There was a rather impressive games library, which at first interested Dib…

Until he realized it was mostly stuff from Earth.

With a heavy sigh, he stood up, making sure not to rest any of his weight on his broken leg. Though it was easy to forget that it was injured—he couldn't feel any pain, and…he eyed the brace holding his bone in place.

How well would the alien technology hold it, he wondered?

He limped to the bed, sitting on the edge and resting both feet against the ground. He carefully stood up, letting his weight rest on both his legs. His broken one throbbed, not quite with pain, but with a definite promise of it. Lights along the side of the band lit up.

Dib rose an eyebrow. "Interesting." Taking notes on this was tempting, but…he turned his attention to the door. Whatever Zim was doing had been keeping him busy.

He shifted his weight off of his injured leg and limped to the door, bracing himself against the wall. Once he was close enough, the door opened automatically. He glanced out, seeing a hallway he didn't recognize. Still, he could tell he was clearly somewhere in the depths of Zim's base.

Not that knowing that helped him much. Zim's base was huge, and Dib had never managed successfully mapped the whole thing out.

But he wouldn't turn down the opportunity to explore without Zim immediately rushing to him to kick him out. Maybe he could find a way out and put some distance between him and Zim for a little bit. Until he had prepared himself for Zim acting so…bizarre. Touchy-feely.

He placed a hand against the wall and headed down the hallway.

It was a mystery to Dib how Zim even managed to navigate his own base. Nearly every hallway looked the same, and none of the doors were marked to indicate what room they led to. Dib wasn't sure how long he had been wandering, but he was pretty sure he was lost.

That thought didn't faze him much, though, and he just headed deeper into the base. Or…maybe he was heading to the edges or the surface. There wasn't really a way to tell what level he was on.

Most of the rooms he found were labs. Either with huge glass containers holding live animals, tubes filled with a viscous liquid holding more specimens, or workbenches covered in tools, vials, and large pieces of alien technology. He searched each bench for something to take, but anything 'alien' enough was too big for him to pocket and walk off with.

Still, he stared long and hard at anything he found, memorizing it and the rooms he could find them in. He wished he had his camera…

After more wandering, he spotted a pair of open elevator doors. His mood brightened, and he moved towards them. In his enthusiasm, he placed a little too much weight on his injured leg, and winced when it throbbed.

"…Master Dib," the Computer suddenly said from an overhead speaker. "Master Zim is wondering why you aren't in your room."

"I'm just exploring," Din huffed, readjusting how he stood, slowly limping to the elevator. "Is that such a problem?"

"…for Zim, it is. He's upset and coming to your location."

Dib snorted and continued slowly heading forward. Zim might have known the base better, but Dib had been wandering for at least an hour. It'd take time for Zim to catch up to him…at which point, Dib would have already gotten to the elevator.

Now, should he explore other parts of the base, or attempt to fully escape…?

He was so busy weighing his options that it took him a while to notice the faint clicking sounds behind him. But as faint as they were, they were getting louder…closer.

He frowned and looked over his shoulder. Not many feet away was a T-shaped intersection. But behind that wall, the clicking sound was getting closer.

Before he could begin to wonder what was happening, the wall lifted up into the ceiling. What Dib remembered as a mess of winding hallways and unlabeled rooms was now a completely straight hallway, long enough to maybe even stretch to the bedroom.

And Zim was standing right in the middle, quickly marching in his direction.

As soon as his eyes locked with Dib's, he glared and moved even faster. Dib's heart leapt up into his throat, and he pushed himself to move faster, trying to get to the elevator. Visions of Zim attacking in a rage, underestimating Dib's strength, flashed in his mind.

He slammed face-first into the elevator doors…which were now, of course, sealed shut. "Oh, c'mon!" he yelled, banging on them with his fist. They refused to budge.

He could hear Zim's boots clanging against the metal floor. He whirled around and pressed his back to the closed doors, tensing up. He hadn't wanted to fight Zim under these circumstances, but he was used to handling the alien when he was angry.

Zim quickly closed the gap between them, reaching up to grab the collar of Dib's shirt. "What do you think you're doing?" he hissed, trying to pull Dib to his eye level. Dib pulled back, refusing to move. "Your leg isn't healed yet, you ignorant human!"

"It's fine! I made it this far, didn't I? And there's a brace on it!" Dib grabbed Zim's arm, trying to pull him off.

Zim's grip only tightened, and he used his PAK legs to lift himself just above Dib's eye level. "That brace," he growled. "Was a precaution to hold the bone in place. It isn't meant to support your full weight for all this time. You're lucky you made it so far through the base."

Dib glared at him. Zim reached towards him with his free hand, and Dib automatically tensed up, ready for an attack…

Only for Zim to gently cup his chin, tilting his head back and forth, gazing at him intensely.

"Calm down, you bundle of nerves," Zim said, fingers resting above Dib's racing pulse. "I am furious with you—and the Computer for letting you wander off—but you're not in danger." He clicked something in Irken, something rather soft for the harsh language.

"…and I'm supposed to believe that?" Dib said.

Zim sighed, his hand gliding up to tangle in Dib's hair, scratching his scalp. Oh, that actually…felt pretty nice. "No fighting for now, my Ssnemi," he purred. "I want you fully healed before you try to issue any challenges. Which Zim will easily win, of course."

In one swift motion, Dib was scooped up so that his stomach was pressed against Zim's, the alien using one arm to support him under his legs. Dib loosely wrapped his arms around him for support, resting his chin on Zim's shoulder. Zim began marching back to (presumably) the bedroom, one hand still buried in Dib's hair.

"Can you blame me for exploring, though?" Dib said, watching as walls slid into place to recreate a maze of hallways. "I mean, I'm in an alien base with alien technology, and you want me to stay in one room for the rest of my life?"

"I expected you to have basic concepts of self-preservation," Zim said. "And don't be dramatic. Your leg should be healed enough that you can walk tomorrow…provided there aren't any more of these foolish stunts."

He sighed, stroking the back of Dib's head. "That's why I removed the Computer's orders to keep you in bed. I still didn't think you'd try to go so far…or that the Computer would allow it."

"I'm not a mind-reader, Master," the Computer groaned. "I only act on what information or orders you actually give me."

Zim snorted, his antennae flattening against his head. Dib glanced at him, the walls of the base, and finally, Zim's glowing PAK. "…how'd you find me so quickly, anyway?"

"I have a map, obviously," the Irken said. "I'd give you one, but the base maps are designed with only PAKs and Computer Brains in mind." His claws tapped along Dib's spine. "Although…"

Dib shuddered. "Uh, you don't have to! I have some paper ones I made at home."

Zim barked out a laugh. "You think I don't know about those? They're all outdated. I regularly change the base's layout."

…Dib had questions on how that was possible, but it certainly explained why he could never seem to find his way around the base. And the proof that Zim could do this was right in front of his nose, the maze of hallways still reforming itself.

He wanted to keep probing Zim about this, maybe add it to the report since he was going to be stuck in the room again. But his eyelids and limbs felt heavy, and being held like this made him feel…drowsy.

"Stupid medicine…" he grumbled under his breath as he slumped more of his weight against Zim.

"Tired again?" Zim clicked his tongue. "The effect wouldn't hit as hard if you hadn't spent your energy wandering in circles."

Dib huffed, trying to keep his eyes open to keep watching the base change. Though there wasn't much more he could watch, as Zim soon carried him into the bedroom and set him on top of the bed.

"Must make sure you haven't injured yourself…" he mumbled, moving to Dib's leg. Dib closed his eyes, trying to ignore the feeling of Zim's claws carefully gliding over his skin. It wasn't easy, since the sharp claws touching him so gently were…very alien. That, and Zim was mumbling to himself about Dib's condition.

"Congratulations," he said once he was done with his examination, leaning back beside Dib. "You've successfully managed to not injure yourself with that stunt."

"…so, I can leave tomorrow?" Dib said.

"We will see," Zim replied. "That depends on whether your leg actually heals by that time…and that you don't try something like that again."

Dib grumbled under his breath, rolling away and closing his eyes. Zim huffed again, patting his side and complaining in a gentle voice.

He had only meant to close his eyes for a second. Just long enough to ignore Zim and shake off the drowsiness. But when he felt something sharp poking him in the ribs, his body was sluggish to react, his mind filled with cotton…he must have fallen asleep.

Still, the poking was pretty effective at waking him up. "Ugh, what?" he groaned, sitting up and slapping away Zim's hand (because of course it was Zim).

"Dib-thing, you've now been in this one room for almost forty-eight hours! Ignoring that stunt you pulled wandering around the base."

Dib glared at him. "Yeah, because you're the one insisting I stay put. Are you saying I can go?"

"No, not yet!" Zim grabbed him under his arms and hoisted him off the bed. Dib pulled back in surprise, leaning his weight on his good leg. "But I know that if we don't do something soon, your filthy human stench will become…unbearable!"

Dib's glare intensified, and now had a scowl to match. He leaned forward, intending to twist one of Zim's antennae. Zim seemed to misunderstand the gesture, grabbing Dib's outstretched hand and dragging him forward…or rather, to the wall the head of the bed was pressed against.

He hadn't been looking too closely at this wall, so only now did he see the part that clashed with the rest, a rectangle of lavender surrounded by gray. Zim led him right to it, and unlike other doors, it didn't open automatically—he pressed his hand somewhere in the center, and the door chimed and slid upward.

"I've already prepared everything, so…take care of this," Zim said, pinching a bit of Dib's hair, face wrinkling at the greasiness. Before Dib could snap back, he was all but pushed into the new room, the door closing behind him.

…it was a normal bathroom, currently filled with steam. Well, most normal bathrooms weren't a hideous shade of magenta, and didn't have black toilets, sinks, and bathtubs, but it seemed to hold everything one would find in a normal bathroom. Zim had even laid mats in several places to cover the cold metal floor.

First things first, though…he had been here for pretty much two days. He quickly stepped forward and made use of the toilet, then resumed looking around as he washed his hands. The water itself smelled…alcoholic, and there were a variety of hand soaps. There were also fuzzy blue towels hanging from the wall, and a dial next to the door.

Turning it produced a clicking sound, hopefully from the door locking. He hesitated, but began to peel off his shirt, heading for the steaming bathtub…

But stopped and stared dubiously at its contents.

Whatever they were, it wasn't water. Water usually wasn't a magenta color, and…he brushed his fingers against the surface, curiously pulling up a few viscous strands. Water wasn't supposed to be as viscous as honey.

"Zim!" he shouted through the door. "What is this?"

There was a loud beeping noise from the door that made Zim hiss. Looked like he was right about the dial locking the door. "I can't see what you're talking about, Dib-beast!'

"The stuff in the tub!" Dib shouted.

There was a pause…and then Zim started laughing. "Poor little human! You've never seen cleansing gel before!?"

"No! And i-it's not funny!" Dib could feel his ears beginning to flush red.

Zim continued to laugh at him through the door. "I should have seen this coming! Of course you wouldn't know about cleansing gel, not in this backwater part of the universe!"

Dib glowered at the door. "...if you don't explain what it is, I'm not getting into it!"

He got a slight hiss in return. "You wouldn't dare! Not after Zim spent so much time finding the formula and adapting it for your weak human flesh."

Dib limped backward, audibly stomping on the ground. Zim hissed again.

"It's a gel intended to clean you, obviously," he sneered. "Usually only the most Elite of Irkens would have access to this instead of the usual cleansing chalk. You should be grateful."

"…grateful." Dib frowned. "How does it…work, then?"

"Just like with cleansing chalk, its molecules will bind to dirt, grease, bacteria, and so on," Zim said. "But from my Elite days…oh, I can tell you that the gel feels so much better than the chalk. Oh, and there's soap on the side for anything the gel doesn't take off." He grumbled something under his breath…Dib just picked out 'weak skin' and 'precaution'.

Dib stepped forward and continued to dubiously eye the 'cleansing gel', prodding the surface again with his fingers. It hadn't melted his skin off yet, and though it was hot, it didn't burn him. After a few more prods, he pushed his hand in a few inches, then pulled it back out, wrinkling his nose at the sucking sounds the gel made as it resisted his movement.

…but it wasn't hurting him. And he couldn't turn down the chance to experience first-hand how Irkens bathed.

So, he peeled off the rest of his clothes and slowly climbed into the tub. He closed his eyes and forced himself into the gel, fighting against the viscosity.

Actually, when he put his full weight in it, it really wasn't that hard to push through the gel. He was quickly sitting down, the gel up to his neck, warm and tingling against his skin. There was a faint hissing sound, probably from that binding reaction Zim was talking about, but all he felt was tingling.

This was…actually pretty relaxing. He opened his eyes and lifted his arm out, watching the gel roll down it. Still in one piece. Checking his leg, he saw that it was leaving the metal band alone, which was also nice.

Once he was confident his flesh wasn't being dissolved, he leaned back against the wall of the tub. He closed his eyes and relaxed as the warmth seeped into his bones, a sigh escaping him.

"I told you that you would be grateful," Zim said smugly from the bedroom.

Dib flinched and sat upright, glaring at the door. "Quit listening to me while I'm in here!"

"Ugh, fine! Humans. Just make sure to wash your grease-trap hair, too!" Dib couldn't hear anything after that…hopefully Zim had moved away. Or was at least going to stop talking to him.

He made himself comfortable again and continued to relax. It had been too long since he could just…not think. Not worry.

There was still plenty to worry about, but he could at least take a moment to not do so.

Slowly, he scooped some globs of gel in his hands and patted it into his hair, using his fingers to smear the excess across his face. After repeating this a few more times, he settled back down and closed his eyes again.

He had expected that the gel would cool after a while, like a normal bath, but it continued to hold onto its heat well. But as nice as it was, he eventually began to fidget, sitting up straighter and using his fingers to dislodge the goo from his hair.

He stepped out of the tub, and thankfully, most of the gel slid right off and back into the tub. Still, there was a thin layer on his skin, and more globs stuck in his hair, so he grabbed one of the towels to sponge himself off.

By the time he was done, the poor towel was soaked through and heavy with pink goo. He tossed it into a heap on the floor, then pulled his clothes back on, heading back to the door and unlocking it.

Zim was sitting on the edge of the bed and typing something on one of his tablets. His antennae perked up, and the device was pulled into his PAK as he turned to face Dib. "Everything you could have needed was given, correct?"

"…I guess so?" he shrugged. "I didn't notice anything missing."

"Good, good. That's…" Zim's eyes suddenly narrowed, and he leaned forward, antennae quivering in Dib's direction. His eyes narrowed further. "…why do you still carry a stretch of sweat and grease?"

Dib scowled at him, sniffing at his armpit. It wasn't that bad. Better than he smelled on a usual day, even! "Maybe you just need to get your nose…er, antennae checked."

"No…part of you still stinks." Zim stood up and paced around him.

"I don't know what you expect me to say!" Dib said. "I sat in the gel, and you're the one who made it. Maybe it doesn't take care of the smell you're so bothered about."

"No, Zim made it perfectly." He suddenly leaned forward, grabbing a part of Dib's coat and pulling it towards himself, scowling at it. "…you didn't put your filthy clothes in the gel! No wonder you still stink."

"…I'm not getting into a bath with my clothes on," Dib protested, swatting Zim's hand away and pulling his coat back. "That's weird."

Zim's face crinkled in disgust. "It's weird and inefficient to wash your clothes and bodies separately!" He grabbed the hem of Dib's shirt and began to pull it up.

Dib yelped, grabbing his wrists and making him pull his shirt back down. "What is up with you!?"

"Your clothes smell disgusting and I'm removing them before they make you all disgusting again!" Zim's PAK legs emerged and made swiping motions at Dib's clothing.

Dib let go of his wrists and quickly stepped back…but Zim was already advancing forward. His face was set in determination, and Dib knew it would be next to impossible to distract or derail him.

"Fine, I'll change!" he groaned. Zim paused, blinking and quirking one antenna up in confusion. "My clothes, Zim. I'll change into different ones—as long as you don't watch me."

Zim beamed, sheathing his PAK legs and nodding. "Excellent! Just one moment…" He turned to the bed, kicking against the side of the frame twice. There was a click, and a drawer popped open, filled with folded shirts. He repeated this with a few more drawers, which contained pants, socks, and a variety of underwear.

"I don't have any replacement coats," he said, still looking extremely pleased with himself when he saw Dib's slight surprise. "You'll have to give me yours to clean." He held out his hands, making grabby motions.

Dib frowned, giving him a look. "…you'd better bring it back," he said, shrugging it off as Zim continued to stare. He had some spares at home, but not nearly enough for how often Zim seemed determined to steal or destroy them. He tossed the coat at Zim, chuckling as it flopped over the alien's head.

Zim fumbled around under the fabric for a few moments (making Dib snicker) before finally managing to free himself. He gave Dib a dirty look, then walked into the bathroom, holding the coat away from himself.

Dib looked through all the drawers Zim had just opened. All the shirts and pants were similar to ones he would often wear, and he grabbed a purple shirt and black slacks at random. The socks he first grabbed were galaxy-themed. The underwear drawer, though…

Zim must have just gotten a variety pack or something, because it was filled with almost every type he could think of. A little digging produced a pair of boxers, though.

He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Zim wasn't watching. Even if the alien was interested, he seemed way more focused on dunking Dib's coat into the gel, furiously scrubbing at it with that bar of soap. Dib still stepped out of view before quickly changing.

It took him a while to change while also favoring his hurt leg, but even so, Zim was in the bathroom for a while. Dib sat at the computer and again typed out some of his findings, and he actually managed to finish most of his writing about the gel bath when Zim reemerged.

Zim clicked his tongue. "Was it necessary to just toss the old clothes everywhere?"

Dib turned around, saving what he had written. Zim was moving through the room, picking up discarded articles of clothing and setting them in a stack in the bathroom. "Not like you gave me a laundry basket," he said as Zim returned.

As the Irken grumbled something, Dib finally saw that he was now wearing Dib's trenchcoat. It was way too big for him—most of it was trailing behind him on the ground, and he had to roll up the sleeves to free his hands.

But even with the threat of being smothered in fabric, there was a content grin on his face. He held the sides of it close to himself and grinned up at Dib.

"...am I going to get that back?" Dib asked.

"No," Zim said, pressing the collar against his cheek. "Not yet."

He hopped up onto the bed, almost tripping over the excess fabric. He patted the spot next to him, pulling out that card game again. Dib sat next to him, crossing his arms. "I'm not going to let you win this time."

Zim chuckled. "You don't stand a chance."

The rest of the afternoon was spent playing cards. After two more rounds of losses, Dib was starting to get frustrated…which must have been obvious to Zim, because he pulled out a board game. That went a little better for him, at least.

Zim had the Computer bring them both sandwiches, and he made Dib eat several orange slices before offering any cake. GIR rushed into the room and ate the orange peel (and several pieces from their board game) before Zim got him to calm down and play with one of his toy pigs at the foot of the bed.

Dib swallowed the pills he was given with a little less needling from Zim, and watched with more curiosity than wariness as Zim gave his leg another shot of Mendoserum. "It'll still be healed by tomorrow, I think," Zim said, patting the brace.

"G-Good," Dib said with a loud yawn. Despite sleeping so much earlier, he was still tired. Zim noticed and started to nudge him into a lying position, fluffing the pillow under him and petting Dib's hair.

Dib grumbled and turned his head away, but Zim still gave his cowlick one final twirl before pulling away. Dib's eyelids were starting to droop, even though he wanted to see if Zim slept or not…he decided that question could be answered another night. One where there wasn't alien medicine coursing through his veins and soothing his body.

Just before nodding off, Dib felt the blankets shift around him, being pulled up to his chin. Then, something else was draped over him…another blanket?

As Zim crawled under the covers, and under his arm, he felt the newest fabric brush against his cheek. The texture told him that it was his trenchcoat—which Zim had laid over the blankets that were over him.

Weird. Still, he decided to not think about it too much, trying to keep his mind empty so he could sleep.

Zim's happy, quiet chirps didn't make it easy to not think of things. But they were…relaxing, in their own way. It didn't take long for Dib to actually fall asleep.