InsaneJournal

Chapter Eighteen – In which Dib is quite dramatic

The Professor had never looked as worn out as he did now; labcoat collar pulled down and the goggles that normally covered his eyes (of the same mica-gold persuasion as his children, and lined with age) dangling around his neck as he leaned to give a hesitant and altogether awkward hug to his son. He released him quickly to instead rest gloved hands on shoulders, Dib glancing up at the father who had always been so distant, unsure of exactly what to feel.

Before Membrane could say anything, he shied back a bit, gaze drifting to the older man's Krakemeth companion suspiciously. “Is there...anything you want to say to me, Dad?” Dib asked him quietly, eyes not moving from the large alien (after staring back at him blandly for a moment, it completely ignored him).

Professor Membrane stood silently for a moment, then gave a slight chuckle. “Well, I'm glad you're all right, son. Of course, I wouldn't expect anything less, you sharing my incredible intellect and all!”

Dib grimaced a bit – apparently his father hadn't changed a bit despite everything that had happened. “Uh, that's...not exactly what I-” He paused, thought for a moment, then simply gave a shrug. Some things would never change; but then, maybe they didn't need to. “Thanks, Dad.”

Another glance to the Krakemeth nearby, followed by a quizzical look to the Professor. “It's great that you're okay, I'm just... Why are you with one of them? What's going on?”

“Ah, yes, I knew that would come up. Son, this would be Zxhermnskilek, Zxherm for short – no need to be alarmed. He's friendly.” Professor Membrane paused for a moment, lips pursed, before adding, “For the most part.”

From behind him, Zxhermnskilek gave a low grunt, slithering back to his droid and slumping against its metallic surface to wait, dual-arms crossed and what seemed to be a bored expression on his face.

Leaning in close to Dib, the older man admitted quietly, “I can't always interpret the meaning of those grunts, but seeing as he's assisted me a great deal, I can only conclude they're of a somewhat pleasant nature.”

Dib managed something akin to a relieved smile, though the heaping mounds of confusion made it a tad difficult. “That's great, Dad, but I still don't get why he'd save you in the first place.”

“Yes, well, there will always be unanswered questions,” Professor Membrane replied jovially, getting a frustrated sound from his son.

“That's not really the kind of question you should just ignore!” Dib exclaimed, already fed up with his father's self-important behavior. “Geez, Dad! How can you act like this?! How can you be such a genius, yet still be so stupid?! You're dealing with alien scum that just slaughtered most of the human race – alien scum that killed Gaz! Doesn't that mean anything to you at all?!”

The scientist didn't even flinch, let alone show any kind of concern. Instead, he patted the boy's shoulder, smiling congenially as he spoke once more. “An unfortunate occurrence, yes. But my companion here was considerate enough to assist me in locating her body before it was incinerated – with the power of science and my amazing intelligence, it'll be a simple matter to reanimate her!”

He hesitated then before adding, “I intended to retrieve the both of you from the building, but had to settle on keeping a watch on you instead. Zxherm was a tad reluctant to approach at first, when your, uh-” The Professor cleared his throat, a slight but entirely humorless smile quirking at the corner of his mouth. “-little foreign friend seemed to spot us. Boy's a bit violent for his age, isn't he?”

The reference to what seemed like distant past now might have had the teen repressing a chuckle, even though the whole 'foreign friend' business had caused him a good deal of grief; instead, he whirled to where Zim lay, battered and bruised. “Zim!” Rushing over and crouching beside him, Dib looked over him uncertainly. “Wow, you...you look awful,” he managed to laugh.

It was something that would have garnered a negative retort.

The Irken remained silent.

“Uh...hey. Z...Zim? Quit it – you're... I know you're just doing that to freak me out!”

“PAK damaged.” The throaty grumble from behind him had Dib glancing back, recoiling a bit when he found the Krakemeth - Zxherm-something-or-other - leaning over the two of them.

The teen returned his gaze to his enemy (or was that even the right word anymore?), looking more and more distressed. “Damaged... But that – it's his...it's his life support! Without it, he'll...” He couldn't finish, the last word choking itself down, refusing to allow itself to be spoken.

He and Zim had known each other for years – they'd hardly left each other alone since the first day the Irken had stood, haughty and spiteful and so obviously alien, at the front of a classroom of schoolchildren no bigger than himself. And despite all of their harsh words, the physical and emotional bruises they'd left each other with, Dib could hardly imagine what his life would have been like without Zim – could hardly remember a time when Zim wasn't around. Everything before was just...

...pointless – boring. Why remember it? It wasn't worth it.

Enemies, rivals, grudging allies – it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that, when it all came down to it, the battered Irken before him was the only defining thing in his life. There couldn't be one without the other, not when they were so differently the same; neither fit in with the rest of the flock – Dib, the black sheep – and Zim, the ferocious little wolf-in-sheep's-clothing.

“It's not supposed to end like this!” Dib yelled at him then, shaking Zim's shoulder roughly – the Krakemeth behind him gave a surprised gurgle, a dual-hand lowering to restrain the boy only to be slapped away. “Dammit, Zim! You said you'd always beat me, didn't you?! What good is saying always if you're just gonna go and...do stupid stuff all the time?!”

There wasn't so much as a twitch from the Irken – antennae lay limp and eyes slit mostly shut. The dulled look in them had Dib slumping, head lowering as he knelt over the alien helplessly. The hand that hadn't slapped away the restraining appendage remained on Zim's shoulder, grip looser and more careful now, but still giving the smaller figure a slight, insistent shake now and then. “Come on, Spaceboy...get up. If...if you don't get up, I'll have won, and...and I won't forgive you if you let me win this easily.”

Dib clenched his eyes shut, fingers curling in the worn pink fabric – this couldn't be happening...right? Not this way. And he definitely wasn't on the verge of crying, was he? No – no, he couldn't be. So Zim couldn't be...dying, either. The Irken would jump up, laugh at him for falling for it, he'd get angry, and then he'd get over it, and they'd go back to the way things were. Zim couldn't just...

“...You're not...just gonna give up...right, Zim?”

A three-fingered hand brushing against his cheek had his eyes opening, and he found himself torn between relief and embarrassment – Zim looked quite exasperated. “I was trying to smack you so you'd stop talking, but my arms are all noodley,” the Irken managed weakly.

Zxhermnskilek spoke up then, looking about as exasperated as Zim. “Was going to say 'PAK fixing itself' before you go all whiny cry-boy, but then I thought, ehh. Might be funny.” Dib shot the creature a nasty look, only to receive something that might have been akin to an unimpressed eyebrow raise had the alien had any eyebrows. “Was wrong, though – not so much funny as...how you say? Uhhhh...pathetic.”

“Yeah, that's the word,” Zim agreed, pulling himself up into a sitting position using the lapels of Dib's trenchcoat, clinging to the fabric tightly to keep from collapsing again – something made rather pointless when he grumbled to Dib, “Get away from me – you stink of hose-water.” He then complained when the boy did just that, leaving him to fall forward and end up flat on his face.

Sighing in what seemed to be relief, Professor Membrane made his way over, helping his son to his feet. “You were always quite the dramatic child...but that might have been a little unnecessary.”

“Why are you guys acting as though it was terrible of me to be worried?!” Dib exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“It much more funny than pity party,” Zxhermnskilek mumbled offhandedly.

“Gee, thanks,” the teen replied tersely, wavering off-balance a bit when Zim decided he'd attempt to get up – once again via his trenchcoat. It might not have been so obnoxious if the Irken wasn't being terrible at getting to his feet, but then again, Zim had just been in a rather one-sided fight against a death mech, so he couldn't really lay any blame on him. “Do you need some help?”

Zim frowned up at him from somewhere around his knees, digging claws into the fabric of his trenchcoat. “Noooo. Zim is perfectly capable of standing! Ehh, s'just my arms transferred all their noodleyness to my legs, and it's making it more difficult than usual. But I can do it myself! Zim needs no help from an inferior-” Dib planted a hand on the other's forehead and shoved him back onto his butt before the typical insult could be finished.

“Well, then, son, it's best if we get going – we have much to do, and much to explain to the readers!” Membrane stated in his typical epic fashion; because pretty much everything the Professor said had to be in an epic fashion.

“Uh...readers?” Dib wondered before shaking his head. “Sorry, Dad. I don't think I'd like hanging around the guys who annihilated our civilization.”

The nearby Krakemeth emitted a series of clacks that had no discernible meaning before stating, “Cannot be held accountable for such simple matter. It not even break galactic code, your race not even evolve to space stage yet.” While Zim only nodded, once again in agreement with the other alien, the last bit of the statement had Dib squinting in confusion before simply shrugging it off.

Zim took that moment to butt in, despite the fact that his rival had clearly been about to say something (perhaps because of that fact). “Why's your English so bad? The other tentacley I met could talk just fine!”

“Er...translator broken. Been going to fix, but...ehh. Too lazy.”

“As I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” Dib snapped, directing an irritated glare at the Irken, who smiled blankly as though he hadn't realized. “Accountable or not, we can't go with you; Zim and I have to get back to the baby.”

Professor Membrane instantly perked up. “Baby? ...Now, son, I know I haven't always been the best parental figure, but you should have known to at least-”

“DAD! That's not what I meant at all!” Dib practically screeched, all of a sudden finding it very necessary to put a good deal of space between himself and the Irken. Unfortunate, really, seeing as Zim was once again attempting to use him as a steady post for that tricky thing called standing. “We rescued a baby, that's all! She's waiting for us back at our house!”

“Well, then, we can't leave her pining for her beloved parents!” Dib's shouts about how the professor wasn't listening were duly ignored. “Zxhermnskilek, would dropping my son and his foreign...heh...friend off at our residence be too much of an intrusion? I trust you remember the way...”

“Dad! He's not my friend, and it's not like that!”

The Krakemeth gave a little shrug at the request, accompanied by a swivel of his smaller eyes. “Suppose not hassle much; already ahead of schedule besides, and it close.” His thick tentacles slapped against the blacktop as he moved back towards the metal droid, and he glanced back only once, grating out, “Should go now, though – Sentinel deactivated, but still not safe to hang around very long.”

“Agreed,” Membrane replied with a sharp nod before turning to his son. “We'll have to discuss your poor family planning some other time. For now, I'd just like to see my two sons safe and sound in Zxherm's droid, so be the doting significant other I never was and assist him, will you? He seems to be having trouble standing.” With that, the professor turned and followed his companion.

From his spot on the ground, Zim stared after him with antennae quirked and expression disgruntled. “What was all that supposed to mean?”

Dib immediately winced – there was no way he was going to explain. Not to ZIM. “I...I honestly have no idea. ...Uh...you need some help or what?”

Grumbling under his breath, the Irken raised his arms, making 'gimme' gestures. “I suppose I will allow you to assist the incredible Zim. But only because you're not as smelly as you were earlier.”

“Well gee, I'm thrilled that I measure up to your disturbingly high standards,” Dib huffed as he tugged Zim to his feet.

The Irken almost looked offended at the statement. “I only said you were slightly less stinky, not that your overall existence is satisfactory.”

Before Dib could let go and leave the alien to fall out of spite, Zxhermnskilek called for the two to hurry, seeming to be rather irritable; thus, the boy gritted his teeth and let Zim lean on him for support as they walked, doing everything he could to ignore the fact that the Irken was purposefully trodding on his foot at every chance he got. Instead, he went back to that very therapeutic image of Zim being hit repeatedly with a brick.

Ah, yes, now he felt much better – he could almost ignore the dull throb in his toes as he lifted Zim up into the droid, Zxhermnskilek tugging him in right after. The covershield slid shut with a snap before the metal machine went into motion with a few pushes of buttons, and Dib leaned back against the inner wall with a relieved sigh. At the back of the small cockpit area he caught glimpse of a glass tube, its surface frosted over, and squinted at it a bit before he discerned a familiar purple and black blur – so they really had found Gaz, then.

He gazed around, unsure of how to take it all – a member of the race who had destroyed his own, the alien he'd been hunting for a good deal of his life, the father he hardly knew, all here together with him by the frozen remains of his sister. It seemed...unbelievable. “How did...all this happen?” Dib wondered, rubbing at his forehead.

As the droid plodded forward, Zxhermnskilek exchanged glances with the Professor before directing an uncertain look at the Irken. “Hey. Invader thing.”

“Ehn?” Zim perked up, seeming a bit annoyed at the other's seemingly impolite speech.

“You has ship, yes?”

“We're not sure if it works yet,” Dib told him, before the Irken could find something to be offended by so as to start yelling and generally be an exhausting nuisance.

“Good. I fix for you. So you-” The Krakemeth jabbed a finger at the smaller alien. “-shut down for while to better recover. Human boy need, ehh...private talk.” For a moment, he waved a dual-arm around helplessly before wheezing in irritation, then jabbering in some unclear language. Eyes slightly unfocused, Zim listened for only a few moments before shrugging, mumbling a sentence or two in the same incomprehensible language, and slumping back against the wall to slip into a brief hibernation.

Dib looked from Zim to the other alien uncertainly. “Bit compliant, wasn't he? I would have had to yell at him for over an hour to make him do that.”

Zxhermnskilek swiveled his eyes. “Irken know what best for self – all Irken do. Why else my kind here?” The Membrane household came into view, but it was now the last thing on Dib's mind.

“What...what do you mean?”

“Tall Ones afraid. Irken Zim is...danger to others – other Irken like him. If one want destroy Irken race, all one need is that one Irken. All one need is Zim,” the Krakemeth explained, slowing the droid to a stop in front of what would soon no longer be Dib's home, the covershield sliding open and Zxhermnskilek dragging himself out with a low grunt. He held a small data pad in one of four hands and a slender metal box in another.

Clambering down to leave his father to carry out the once again unconscious Irken, Dib jogged after the lumbering alien – who was surprisingly mobile despite his size and seemingly unwieldy appendages. “Your race is here because of Zim?”

“Somewhat, perhaps,” Zxhermnskilek rumbled in response, and, taking note of the dark look that had begun to spread on the boy's face, added, “You will blame one who save you, rather than ones truly at fault? Your Irken not know the hate of his Tall Ones – not realize his exile. Banished many times, that one, yet he always come back. He...too stupid to realize, too stupid to fault.”

“And maybe he's just too stubborn to realize,” Dib muttered as he opened the garage door and uncovered Tak's ship – the baby had fallen asleep within, tiny hand curled around one of her toys. “I had a feeling he had something to do with this. I just...I knew it.”

“You not sound so convinced, but...ehh. Whatever you think sound smart.” With that, the Krakemeth began to circle around the ship, tapping at the data pad he carried.

Dib started to retort, but quieted himself as Professor Membrane stepped up next to him; Zim lay curled in his arms, breathing only lightly as one antenna twitched. “He has a point, son.”

“Does he?” the teen responded sourly, looking away.

“Are you really going to hate him for something his leaders have done?”

“In case you failed to notice, Dad, I hated him before.”

The Professor laughed a bit, moving forward to place the Irken inside the vessel – the baby murmured in her sleep and instinctively latched on to the familiar somewhat-warm body. “If you say so, son.” He looked to his companion then. “Everything going well, I trust?”

Zxhermnskilek grunted lowly, eyes roving over the data pad. “Better than first thought. It only need slight work – I fix ship body, Irken fix programs with PAK, it work fine.” He set the data pad aside to pull a small tool from the metal box he held, flicked it on, and set to work.

“Why are you helping us, anyway?” Dib asked. “I mean, it's...great that you are, don't get me wrong, it's just...I don't see what's in it for you.”

“Not much, to tell truth. But, I not like how my kind ally with Irken so easy, for such meager task. Make impossible for Irken to rejoin other Irken – ruin mission of Irken – perhaps kill Irken. Seem...dishonorable, I think.” Cutting bits and pieces of metal away, arranging wires, and welding the bits back into place, the alien shrugged. “Many my people not like ally with Irken, so with others, I offer find alternative – different way.”

“A different way to what?”

“I already say best way to destroy Irken, yes?”

At that, the teen fell silent, looking over at Zim, who had unconsciously shifted closer to the infant they had rescued. “...Is he really that much of a threat? To his own race?” he wondered.

For a moment the only reply was the buzz of a laser tool against the ship's hull. Then, the Krakemeth peered over at him and replied quietly, “He already almost destroy race several time. Like I say – he stupid. ...Well...stupid, he is, but many other race need him. You have key to free many from oppression of Irken – Zim not ready for truth, may be not ready for long while. But, someday he learn.”

“It'll probably just make him miserable,” Dib told him.

“Probably,” Zxhermnskilek agreed. “But he not be miserable forever.”

“He'd go on a rampage after that,” the teen laughed, and the serious looks that both his father and this strange Krakemeth gave him had him quieting, thinking about what it might mean. He glanced over at Zim again, pondering. “...That destructive, huh?”

As Professor Membrane gave him a supportive pat on the shoulder, Zxhermnskilek spoke up again. “Very much. Is why need you – to keep Irken from trouble before he ready. He no doubt know place to go, place to hide now that mission ruined. Tall Ones were told he dead, so he safe for moment.”

Dib emitted a little snort, crossing his arms and leaning up against the garage wall. “I still don't see why I should have to keep him safe – he's still largely at fault for all this.”

“I know it's hard on you, son, but you have to understand that this is for a greater cause,” Membrane sighed. “What's left of our race will persevere, as we always have-”

“I help, with Vxxeth. Vxxethasylcb forget point at first, I think, but he find human to interest – have nice girl for company, I think, too.” Zxhermnskilek dissolved into a fit of gurgles, sliding back behind the ship to weld a sheet of metal in place, clearly an attempt (albeit a failed one) to hide his mirth.

Professor Membrane pursed his lips at that, seeming to find it a tad distasteful, but he refrained from commenting on it. Instead, he continued from where he left off. “Ah, yes – our companion here has offered a safe refuge for a number of survivors.”

“Commit genocide often, our kind, but we not too cruel. Not like Irken, at least.” Beginning to untangle and reroute wires, Zxhermnskilek hummed oddly for a moment before asking, “You understand now, boy? Irken race as whole at fault, Zim best way to fight back. He trust you-”

“He doesn't trust me.”

“If not, then you be dead now. He trust you, if only somewhat. One Irken not make ally with alien he not trust; certainly not protect alien, either. But he protect you. So now you must do same, for the sake of many. Make sure he trust you, so when time come for him to learn, he act on your behalf.” Sliding a small cover back over the wires he'd been fixing, he finished bluntly, “Dib-boy already place wellbeing of others above own, yes? So it not much different.”

At Dib's curious expression, his father leaned down to mutter, “Seems your exploits with your foreign friend were somewhat of an amusement for the Irken race – or something to that effect.”

“Oh, great,” the boy muttered irritably. So he was a laughingstock amongst the Irken race, too. Lovely. “Wait, so...Zxherm...you didn't happen to mistake my dad for me, right?” There was a heavy amount of silence as the Krakemeth put the last finishing touches on the vessel, and Dib sighed. “You did, didn't you?”

“It all worked out, though, didn't it?” Membrane stated cheerfully.

A little too well where you're concerned, Dib wanted to reply, though he kept it to himself – in just the past few hours, the Professor had done more for his son than he had during most of the teen's entire life. And, honestly, he really was grateful for that. It wouldn't make up for a whole childhood of a mostly absent father, but the feeling was still there.

“Hmm...yeah, I guess it did, a little.”

Professor Membrane chuckled lightly, adding, “Could have gone better, though.”

That had Dib giving a derisive laugh. “Well, yeah.”

Zxhermnskilek flicked a side panel shut, patting the ship's hull and meandering back from it slightly. “All finish. We go now, tell Vxxeth to keep watch, make sure you pass mothership safely.  He maybe contact, ensure your Irken not try return to Tall Ones.”

“Uh...yeah, okay.” With a curt nod, Zxhermnskilek turned back towards his droid, motioning for the professor to follow with a wave of a dual-arm. “Hey, uh-! Thanks!” Dib called after him. Zxhermnskilek paused for a moment, glancing back at the teen uncertainly. “Thanks, Zxherm. You...you really helped us out a lot.”

“I know. No need thanks, but is good you can extend courtesy to alien. I honestly not sure you could. Diplomacy maybe...not your strong point?”

“Uh...what's with the sarcasm? I was trying to be nice.”

“That my point.”

Dib bit back an exasperated groan. “Oh, whatever! Just...thanks, and try to keep my dad from messing with too much stuff that might explode.” Gurgling, Zxhermnskilek nodded and gave an absent-minded wave as he plopped back inside his droid. “And Dad, uh...don't...mess with stuff that explodes.”

“I'll try my best not to, son,” Membrane chuckled. “You'd best be on your way, as well.”

“Ah...yeah.”

An awkward silence passed between them, before the elder man brought himself to speak. “What you asked me earlier...if there was anything I wanted to say to you. And...yes, there is.” He extended a gloved hand, and though he seemed conflicted, uncertain, his gaze didn't leave his son's. “I'd like to apologize.”

Dib glanced to the offered hand, then back up at his father, before sighing and shaking his head. “I'm...not going to forgive you, if that's what you're hoping for. But...” He scooted closer, giving the man a tentative hug. “Either way, though...you were able to be here, when I needed you most. And...that means a lot to me, Dad.”

Hesitantly, the professor returned the embrace; they were quick to part, however, having rarely even managed conversations in all their time together – hugs were asking quite a lot of the both of them. “Ah, that's...I...I'm glad I could...well, um...”

“You should...probably get going,” Dib managed, trying to laugh a little. This was all so surreal – when was the last time he and the Professor had seen eye-to-eye on anything? And now to try to part ways on a positive note (or at least an only slightly flat note)...

“Ah, yes. Zxherm might be getting a tad annoyed. I'll be...on my way, then.” One last pat to the shoulder, and a ruffling of hair – despite the tug of tangles, it felt natural, more like what a parent might do – and then Professor Membrane stepped back, headed towards the patiently waiting Krakemeth and his droid.

Returning the wave from his father, Dib called to him, “I'll see you and Gaz again, right?”

“I don't see why not,” came the reply. The covershield began to slide shut, and the Professor seemed to remember something. “Oh, and one last thing!”

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Don't forget to use protection!” With that final statement, the plexiglass snapped shut, and Dib could only yell one thing after the droid as it plodded off into the night.

“Dammit, Dad, I told you it's not like that!”