Dib couldn't stop thinking about what Gaz had said.

He barely gave the idea of going with her, back to their father, a second thought. But her parting words had cut him deeply and suddenly…and maybe she had meant them to.

"Have fun being a weird alien pet or whatever Zim sees you as."

…was it true? Had he really just allowed himself to be turned into a pet, all for a few nice words and touches from Zim? And even if he hadn't thought of himself as a pet, refused to think of himself like that…did Zim see him that way?

And if not, what exactly did Zim see him as?

Thoughts like that had been swirling in his head ever since Gaz left, questions spiraling endlessly without any answers. Sleep had been a brief break from them, even if a touch of anxiety had poisoned his dreams.

And now that he had woken up, they were haunting him again…and once again stealing his appetite.

He wasn't going to skip breakfast, though. Not after how concerned Zim had been when he only really picked at his meal last night. But he definitely couldn't eat a full one.

So, instead of lazing in bed for a while and enjoying being held, he slipped out of the nest. Zim grunted, sitting up and blinking his eyes to wake himself up. "I'm going to head upstairs and make breakfast," Dib told him, already heading out the door.

Zim was already on his feet and trailing behind him. "Are you sure you don't want to rest?" he said. "Or did you get enough sleep to make you feel better?"

"I slept enough," Dib lied. "But I'll rest a little more after breakfast, probably."

"You swear it?"

"Yeah, yeah." Dib took Zim's hand on autopilot before riding the elevator up to his kitchen. He quickly ducked before his head smacked into one of the lower shelves of the fridge, letting go of Zim's hand to clamber out.

He had to search the cupboards for a while before he found the bread, sticking two slices into the toaster. He got down a plate and began to search for butter, which he set next to the toaster before sitting at the kitchen table and waiting.

"…is that it?" Zim said, standing by Dib's side and plucking at the hem of his pajamas. "Would you like some eggs or something with that? Zim can whip up something if you're tired."

Dib's stomach rolled at the thought of a big breakfast, and he knew that Zim would try to give him a lot of food. "Nah, I'm good," he said. "I've been eating pretty well, so I don't feel too hungry."

"Oh." Zim might have said more, but the toast popped up, and Dib let him go so he could get up and butter both slices.

When Dib took his seat and started to eat, Zim moved over to the fridge, grabbed a carton of chocolate milk, and headed to the table to pour Dib a tall glass of it. "Thanks."

Zim just smiled, leaning up on his toes to bonk his forehead against Dib's shoulder. Dib smiled a little, slowly working his way through his breakfast.

After eating, Dib migrated over to the couch, and not long after, Zim was draping a blanket over him and dropping a tacky decorative pillow onto the couch's arm. Dib smiled and thanked him, leaning back and making himself comfortable.

GIR ran into the room and grabbed the remote before Dib could, sitting on the edge of the couch and turning on some nonsensical kid's cartoon. "GIR," Zim said sternly. "The human is trying to rest. Can't you watch that somewhere else?"

"MMMM NO!" GIR said, beaming up at him.

"I don't mind," Dib said truthfully. He really didn't, as long as GIR didn't turn the volume up too much. And if he got annoyed, he could always just leave.

"You're sure?" Zim asked, raising a brow. Dib nodded, lying back and shifting to make himself comfortable. "Well…alright. Still, GIR, don't cause any problems."

The little robot beamed innocently up at him, while Zim gave him a stern look. Zim must have decided that the robot had been warned enough, because he then turned his attention to Dib, expression melting into something soft.

"I need to go check on a few things," he said, cupping Dib's cheek. "Just yell at the Computer if you need me, okay?"

Dib nodded, shifting his head to lean into Zim's touch. Zim smiled, rubbing a circle there before slowly pulling back and jumping into the kitchen's trash can.

Dib sighed and leaned back, pulling the blanket around himself and staring up at the ceiling. He wondered what Zim needed to check on. Something about the security in his base? Another experiment or invention? Would he have invited Dib to come help, if he hadn't been convinced he needed to rest?

…was he working on something to take over the world?

That thought made Dib squeeze the blanket tightly. The thought of not being there to stop or even just distract Zim from his evil plans wasn't a pleasant one. Zim probably wouldn't have invited him to help with an evil plot anyway, though.

But what if he would have? He'd admitted to researching human weaknesses right in front of Dib, though Dib had quickly derailed him from that goal. What if Zim wanted to turn Dib into some sort of…Invader's assistant?

Was that better or worse than being a pet?

"Yer head is really loud!" GIR said, ignoring his show and now looming over Dib's head, staring him in the eyes.

Dib flinched a little. "Uh…hey there." He blinked. "Wait, can…can you read my mind?"

GIR shook his head. "Your face is frowny like Master's when his thinking is super loud!" He crossed his arms and scowled exaggeratedly. "When Mastah looks like this, his PAK goes whirrrrrr and CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK!"

"Does it really?" Dib asked skeptically. He really only heard Zim's PAK making noises when he was pulling out his spider legs or some kind of weapon. …then again, Zim would never let him get too close when he was deep in thought before all of this.

GIR's attention had drifted back to the screen instead of Dib. Dib lifted one hand, nudging the robot to get him to look back. "Hey…how often is Zim's head 'loud'?"

"Mmm…" GIR frowned in thought. "Dunno. Less than before, though! And it always went quiet when I told him and brought him some…"

He gasped, as though realizing something, and quickly jumped off the couch and ran into the kitchen. There were several loud crashing sounds that made Dib wince, and seconds later, GIR came running back with one of the fudge bricks held above his head.

"Mastah feels better when I give sweets!" he said, shoving the treat into Dib's hands and beaming.

"Oh…thanks," Dib said. He broke off a tiny piece to nibble on, after confirming it was one of his fudge bricks and not Zim's...though Zim probably wouldn't care that much. GIR's smile just widened further, and he again sat at the edge of the couch, leaning back against Dib's stomach to watch his show.

Huh. Dib could kind of see why Zim was so attached to the robot, even with his insanity. Then again, Zim seemed to get attached to anything smaller he was in charge of…Dib still remembered the incident after the "baby assignment" at school when they were younger.

Dib watched a bit of the cartoon with GIR, letting the nonsense of it numb his mind for a little bit. But questions still bothered him, sitting heavy at the back of his mind…it would take more than this show to distract him.

Between episodes, he shifted his gaze to GIR. "…hey," he said. "Zim…rants to you about a lot of stuff, right?"

"Mhmm!"

"Has he…I don't know…told you about how he sees me recently?"

GIR hummed, hunching over and leaning his chin against his hand in thought. Dib fidgeted impatiently, waiting for his answer.

"Master says he really likes having you around!" GIR finally said. "You make him VERY happy!" Dib waited for more, but…that seemed to be all GIR had to say on the subject.

"But, do you know what I…I mean, how am I making him happy?" Dib said, running fingers through his hair. "Is he happy because he likes fussing over things that are 'beneath him'? Are we actually…friends? Or more? How am I supposed to know what 'more than friends' feels like?"

GIR just tilted his head. "…I dunno," he admitted, hanging his head a little. "Mastah's better with big questions."

"It's okay," Dib said, patting the small robot's head. "…I should probably be bugging Zim for answers, anyway. Thanks for telling me what you knew."

GIR beamed at him, sitting up to bump his head into Dib's hand. Dib laughed, continuing to pet him. GIR did act a little bit like the dog he disguised himself as…it was funny.

He thought of how often he himself had probably nudged his head into Zim's hand just like this…and comparing GIR to a pet became less funny.

Still, he allowed his hand to rest there, even when GIR stopped paying attention to him and began watching his show again. Dib turned his head to watch the mindless show again, which was just as brain-numbing as it had been earlier.

Before he knew it, Zim was coming in to check on him. "It's close to noon," he said, petting Dib's hair. "Any requests for lunch?"

"…not really," Dib said with a shrug as his stomach gurgled. "Just anything is fine."

Zim nodded, giving Dib's scalp a quick scratch before heading into the kitchen. GIR jumped off the couch and trailed behind him, rambling about the different kinds of food he wanted. Dib debated turning the TV off now, but shrugged and just laid back on the couch again.

He opened his eyes when he heard Zim approaching again. He had poured the potato oles onto a plate and heated them up, with a dollop of sour cream in the corner. There was also a sandwich cut into triangular halves with the crust removed.

"GIR already got into the taco at some point…looks like he tore it apart so he could pick at the insides," Zim said as he handed the plate to Dib. "There's still some left, but who knows what GIR got into before he decided the eat that."

Dib nodded, remembering a lot of the bizarre and gross things he had seen GIR do…especially the recent event with that moldy sandwich. And Zim probably didn't even know about that particular incident.

He sat up, resting the plate on his lap as Zim sat at his side, and began to dig into his meal. Zim glanced at the TV, picked up the remote, and began to flick through channels before sighing and turning the TV off, apparently dissatisfied with the current options.

After setting the remote aside, he leaned a bit more of his weight against Dib. "Did you get enough rest, even with GIR up here?"

"Yeah, actually," Dib said. "It was actually kind of nice, having him around."

Zim hummed, giving him a skeptical look. "If you believe that, maybe you should handle him the next time he picks up another one of his messy hobbies." He shuddered at the thought of the messes.

"Is it that bad?" Dib asked, raising an eyebrow and continuing to pick at his lunch.

"Imagine the most disgusting thing you've seen him do before," Zim said. "Imagine whatever that was coating an entire large room, think of what it would smell like after a few days, and that's how bad the aftermath of his hobbies can get."

Dib wrinkled his nose. "…so, good luck cleaning that up next time it happens!" Zim finished, clapping Dib on the back.

"Fine," Dib said. Zim was probably exaggerating, anyway.

He polished off the rest of his lunch, Zim taking the plate back from him and pecking his cheek. "I'll take GIR into the base with me so that you can actually get some rest," he said. "Just call if you need anything."

Dib was about to say he'd gotten plenty of rest…but was cut off by a yawn. Looked like he was even drowsier than he thought. He rubbed his eyes, grumbling and flopping back onto the couch. Zim patted the top of his head, stroking his fingers through Dib's hair before turning and heading back into the kitchen (and probably back into the depths of his base).

Ugh. Of course when Dib finally had a sleep schedule that could be considered 'normal', something like this happened, and was probably throwing it all out of whack. All because Gaz put stupid ideas into his head, making him ponder stupid questions that kept him up…

Then, Dib realized he just lost a perfect chance to actually ask Zim directly about all the questions bothering him. He groaned, smacking the heel of his palm against his forehead.

He still didn't feel like hunting Zim down for his answers, especially when he had just been here. He might have wanted to know, but he didn't want to seem so desperate about it.

And he would be spending time in the evening with Zim, anyway…he could ask him all his questions then.

With that in mind, he yawned, rolling over on the couch. Being lazy this morning seemed to have just made him drowsier on top of the tiredness he felt from last night's fitful sleep. He fluffed the pillow under his head and curled up, facing the back of the couch.

Resting his eyes for just a few minutes wouldn't hurt…

"Dibby Dibby Dib Diberton!" GIR chanted, drumming his hands along Dib's spine. "I made MUFFINS! You wanna muffin!?"

Dib groaned, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "GIR!" Zim yelled, rushing in from the kitchen. "Did you just wake the Dib? That's the one thing I told you NOT to do!"

"Nooo it isn't!" GIR said. "You told me not to use the soap, or touch your food, or play with the flour, or—"

"Guh, fine, so it wasn't my only order," Zim said. "But still, you should know not to disturb my Dib when he's resting!"

"Aww, but I like playing with 'im!" GIR said. He turned back to Dib, screeching that he was going to get him a muffin before rushing back into the kitchen.

Zim made eye contact with Dib and shook his head. "Don't eat them," he mouthed. Aloud, he said, "Your dinner should be ready now! I'll go grab it."

He went back into the kitchen and returned soon with a large bowl of tomato soup and a glass of ice water. It smelled great, and Dib eagerly sat up as Zim set the tray on his lap.

"I know you said you were tired and not sick, but I looked up recipes that are supposed to combat human illness," Zim said. "You know, just to be on the safe side."

"That…that's thoughtful. Thanks," Dib said. Unsure what else to say, and thinking that this was too warm of a moment to delve into his questions, he grabbed the spoon and took a sip of soup.

The soup was wonderful—hot (but not so much that it burned him), smooth, and creamy. It was maybe a little saltier than he would have preferred, but it wasn't enough that he would call it a bad soup.

He ate several more spoonfuls, a bit of soup dribbling down his lips. Zim pulled out a handkerchief, and Dib stopped long enough that the alien could lean over and wipe the soup off of him. "Thanks," he said, taking a sip of water.

"You're quite welcome," Zim said. "Though a dish this simple to prepare was barely a challenge for Zim!"

Dib chuckled and resumed eating. Suddenly, GIR ran in from the kitchen, holding a muffin tray filled with...something above his head. He beamed, grabbing one of the things and offering it to Dib. "Still wanna muffin, muffin man?"

It wasn't something Dib would call a 'muffin'. It was more like a sticky yellowish blob of some unidentifiable…stuff. "…thanks, GIR," he said. "What's in it, exactly?"

GIR hummed, as though trying to remember, which Dib did not consider to be a good sign. "Well, there was some flour, a little syrup, I added a lot of honey, and some apples and eggs…"

That…did not sound good. Now he understood Zim's warning to not eat them. GIR stood closer, trying to shove the glob in Dib's face and waiting for him to take it.

"Um..." Dib glanced over to Zim, but he honestly looked just as panicked. He glanced back at GIR, who seemed to be growing upset that Dib wasn't eating the 'muffin'.

"I don't really want to..." Dib began to say, though he stopped when he saw GIR frown sadly. "Right now! I'll...save it for dessert!"

"YAY!" GIR said, slamming the 'muffin' onto the corner of Dib's tray and beaming up at him before running back into the kitchen.

With him gone, Zim whipped out a napkin, which he used to scoop up the bizarre food item. He carefully tied it shut, glanced at the kitchen, and then held it up for the Computer to take (and dispose of). "I can get rid of the rest later," he said.

Dib hummed and nodded, picking up his soup bowl to drink from the rim. It didn't take long for him to polish off his dinner, and after assuring Zim he didn't need seconds, a robotic arm took the tray away. Zim leaned back on the couch, patting his lap and wrapping an arm around Dib to pull him close.

It took Dib a second to get it, but he shifted and laid down, using Zim's lap as a pillow. Zim began to scratch at his scalp, and Dib sighed, melting. This was so nice…questions could probably wait for another time…

No! He shouldn't stall anymore, he told himself. Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and sat back up, turning to look a confused Zim in the eye.

"…what are we, Zim?"

"An Irken and a human, obviously," Zim answered. "You didn't catch a case of brain worms, did you?"

"No, not literally! I mean…" Dib sighed. "What am I to you?"

Zim tapped his chin for a few seconds. "You're my human," he said, reaching up and patting Dib's head.

…that was way too vague. It didn't even begin to answer any of the concerns that Dib had. He took a deep breath. He just…needed to dig a little bit deeper. That was it. "What does that mean, though?"

Zim tilted his head. "You're my human, so…that means I can do certain things with you. Things I wouldn't do with any other human."

Dib raised an eyebrow, gesturing impatiently for him to go on.

"I get to do this," Zim said, kissing Dib's cheek. "And this." A kiss on Dib's forehead. "And this!" He kissed the nape of Dib's neck.

He stopped speaking, but continued to pepper kisses all over Dib's face and neck. Dib smiled and giggled when his nose was kissed…and then kept giggling when Zim kept going, faster and faster but still gentle.

Zim pressed his lips to Dib's neck and blew a raspberry right where he was ticklish, and Dib's giggling turned into full-blown laughter. "Z-Zim!" he panted between laughs.

"Yessss?" Zim said, kissing Dib's sternum and looking up at him 'innocently'.

"No more, I…I need to breathe!" Dib said, still laughing.

"Very well." Zim nuzzled his cheek and then pulled back to lean against Dib's side, looking very proud of himself as Dib's laughter slowly wound down.

Zim scrolled through channels on the TV before stopping on a documentary about a giant shark, big enough to bite whales in half. He sat up and leaned forward, fascinated.

"That species isn't alive," Dib said between giggles. He rolled his eyes when the documentary host declared that the shark must be alive somewhere. "It went extinct before humans existed."

"Oh." Zim looked a little disappointed, but then looked up at him with a grin. "Want to watch it anyway and point out how wrong it all is?"

"Ooh, yes!" Now Dib shifted forward to watch with interest. The mockumentary was long, enough that Dib spent a while absorbed in it. Zim even brought fudge over for him to eat on the couch, then a bowl of popcorn. Dib had a good time eating, ripping through the show's 'arguments', and enjoying Zim's weight against him…

So, it was only later, while he was brushing his teeth, that he realized that Zim had completely avoided giving a good, specific answer to his questions.

"Ugh!" he spat out the toothpaste, and when that wasn't enough to quell his frustration, he shoved everything from the counter to the floor.

"Dib?" Zim called from the bedroom. He almost sounded worried. "What was that?"

"Nothing!" Dib lied. "Just…dropped something. A lot of somethings." And he would have left them, too, but it was hard to say a mess like this was an accident. So, he picked it off the floor and dropped it back onto the counter.

He grabbed a towel, furiously rubbing his damp hair to try and get rid of his lingering anger. It helped a little, but not by much. He grumbled, tossing the towel back over the rack and leaving the bathroom. Hiding wouldn't fix anything.

Zim's antennae flicked up as Dib entered the room…though they lowered when he saw Dib's expression. "Is something bothering you?"

Yes! "…no," Dib sighed. "I'm just…tired." Too tired to try and ask again, too frustrated to find a good way to word the questions he had.

Zim hummed, pulling back a few blankets from the rest. "Would you like some sedatives to make sure you get enough rest?"

Dib quickly shook his head, crawling into bed. The lights slowly dimmed to complete darkness as soon as his head was on the pillow…and once he was settled, of course, Zim began to brush claws through his hair.

He closed his eyes with a sigh, even when he felt an unpleasant twist in the pit of his stomach. It felt good when Zim did this, and that was all that mattered…right?

It took him a while to actually fall asleep. The one thing that finally helped was Zim gently rubbing tension out of his back and arms…placing gentle kisses wherever he was most tense.