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Chapter Text

“GIR! Get back here!” Zim commanded as the little hyper-active SIR unit continued to run in circles through the field of Earth corn. Dawn was quickly approaching, but Zim had yet to complete phase one of his latest plan; one inspired by the Earth-history lesson his terrifying teacher, Miss Bitters, had given on the Salem Witch Trials only a few days before. During class that day, Zim furiously scribbled down notes to gather as much information as he possibly could. Apparently, humans, unlike Irkens, are very susceptible to certain chemicals. Chemicals that can alter the state of their inferior human brains. Chemicals that can make the humans kill one another for the most ridiculous of reasons, thus leading to the disintegration of human civilization as they know it. Chemicals that can easily be sprayed over a major staple in human diets: grains.

But then, Zim had an even better idea. What if he could genetically engineer some of the Cuitla parasite specimens from Planet T’oola? Their genes were easy enough to manipulate to fulfil just about any purpose and he still had an abundance of specimens left over, from when he engineered the brain-eating parasite, just sitting in biological containment storage. It’s a wonder why Invaders don’t utilize them more.

So simple, yet so poorly and hastily researched INGENIOUS! It was far simpler and far more clever than a similar failed DIABOLICAL plan to pump the humans’ livestock with their own sewage. That Friday afternoon, Zim couldn’t wait to get back to the lab. In fact, the would-be MIGHTY Irken Invader spent the entire weekend engineering the parasite he would use to contaminate the humans’ filthy food supply.

Well, almost all weekend. The Dib-human has been exceptionally ornery for the past few weeks, breaking into his home every other day, it seems. Usually, Computer or Minimoose were able to kick his human butt out of the house before the stink could worm its way into one of the subterranean labs, assuming the gnomes didn’t take care of the little rat first.

Still, everything was going smoothly… until Saturday afternoon. The Dib-human struck low that day, lower than Zim thought him capable of. Zim didn’t know how or when the human discovered it, but there was a simple flaw in his security system. Dib exploited one of the many weaknesses THE ONE WEAKNESS in two of Zim’s favorite henchmen: snacks.

His nemesis very easily SOMEHOW managed to bribe Zim’s gullible LOYAL henchmen with every somewhat delicious DISGUSTING Earth confection his clever rival INFERIOR GRUBBY HANDS could get a hold of. Zim had been gone from the lab for two hours (he kept spacing-out) ONLY TEN MINUTES, TOPS, to retrieve a snack for himself from Ration Storage Room 4 only to return to find the Earth-monkey ripping out cables and destroying every single important piece of equipment in the room like a wild snarlbeast with the brain of the dim-witted Gashqueegashnootz. All while the little traitors cheered the filthy monster on as they stuffed their faces with these miniature tasty convenience-store doughnuts that remind Zim of the expensive luxury snack reserved for elites on Irk HORRIBLE POWDERED EARTH PASTRIES THAT DARE TO CALL THEMSELVES “DOUGHNUTS!”

Needless to say, it took Zim and his henchmen until Sunday evening to finish cleaning up Dib’s mess. By the time Zim was able to put the finishing touches on his plan, it was almost 11pm. Zim was considering just taking Minimoose on this mission because the purple moose was less likely to get distracted and start dancing around like a lunatic at the worst possible time. But the season premier of Minimoose’s favorite female prison show was just about to start. And he did promise him the TV in the living room tonight. He needed someone to keep him company because it gets really lonely in the Voot ASSIST IN ZIM’S MOST DIABOLICAL PLAN YET. But the plan could probably NOT be delayed for another day. The Tallests don’t care and never have--ARE EXPECTING TO SEE PROGRESS IN THE INVASION OF EARTH AND ZIM CAN’T LET THEM DOWN!

Besides, who knows what trouble the big-headed nuisance would cause then. So Zim ended up only taking Gir along after all. And this should have been fine. All Zim needed to do was bring some coloring books and give Gir a turn at the controls every so often. Minimoose was better at guarding the base anyway.

That was a mistake. IT WAS A SOUND PLAN! ZIM MAKES NO MISTAKES! Gir helped Zim load up the Voot with all the equipment (and snacks) they would need for the mission. Zim made sure to take some of Gir’s coloring books as well as a few extra sets of colored pencils. Gir already has a set of colored pencils in the Voot, but the little robot has a habit of eating everything in sight. Zim learned the hard way that giving Gir scented markers and crayons was a bad idea. It took Zim weeks to scrub the ink from the seats and clear the rainbow of melted wax that jammed Gir’s fuel intake valve. Never again.

The whole flight to the field Gir had been fairly calm, doodling and coloring in the little piggies in his coloring book like a good evil robot. Soon the two approached a corn field without incident. With a push of a button, the mind-altering parasites would be unleashed onto the corn.

Except when Zim pushed the button, nothing happened. He pressed the button again. And again repeatedly out of frustration.

"GIR!" Zim snarled.

"YES, MY MASTER!" Gir's responded, eyes flashing to red and standing with a salute, colored pencils still in hand.

"Gir, I need you to fix the parasite tank release on the outside of the Voot. The button thingy isn't doing anything!"

"YES SIR!" Zim opened the windshield on the Voot as Gir activated the rockets in his feet to zoom outside and check for the problem.

Zim sank into his seat with a sigh and waited. Normally, Zim would do what he just tasked Gir with himself. But he wasn't stupid. He didn't want to risk getting any of the parasites on himself. Although he engineered them to affect humans, there was no telling what the chemicals the parasites secrete would do to an Irken.

Zim tapped his claws on the seat. What was taking him so long, he thought. The task was straightforward enough. He should have been done by now. When Zim sat up, he could see why his minion was taking so long.

He gasped, "GIR!" Zim immediately landed the Voot in the corn field and jumped out, chasing after his horrible robot.

"Come an' get meeeeeee!" Gir squealed, laughing as he ran from his very irked master, who screamed after him.

After hours of running, they eventually ended up back at the Voot. "Gir… get back… here…!" Zim panted. Zim leaned against the parasite containment unit as he tried to catch his breath. Irk that robot is fast, he thought. He looked forward to see a pink sky over the corn, signaling the imminent rise of the miserable Earth sun. Great. Soon the humans will be waking up and they won't have the cover of night to hide the Voot.

Meanwhile Gir hopped into the Voot while Zim was distracted. Immediately, he saw the big red button that his master was furiously pressing hours before, only now it was blinking.

Could Gir resist the urge to press it?

"Ooooo! What this do?"

No, he could not.

Zim knew that taking Gir along was a calculated risk.

But man was he bad at math. SILENCE! ZIM IS GREAT!

Chapter Text

Zim was so exhausted from running that he didn't even notice the fine mist coming from the parasite containment unit that quickly surrounded him. He stumbled his way into the cockpit of the Voot, where he found Gir.

"Hi!" said Gir, still full of the insane energy of an Earth puppy. Zim pushed him aside and started the Voot without a word, too angry and tired to say anything.

The ride back was silent, save for Gir's singing. Zim would have to get ready for skool in a few hours. Aaaaand he just remembered that he forgot to do the homework. Great. It was Zim’s own damn fault THE DIB'S FAULT FOR MAKING ZIM CLEAN UP THE HOUSE INSTEAD OF GETTING THE HOMEWORK DONE. Zim cursed Dib under his breath.

The house roof opened up to accept the Voot. Zim had no time to waste. He had to get the homework done now before skool starts! Zim hopped out of the Voot and dashed to the kitchen.

He sat down at the table and pulled the wildlife survival manual and math book out of his PAK. For the wildlife survival homework, he had to write an essay on why poking a moose unarmed is a bad idea. The math homework was stupidly easy: a simple set of multiplication and division problems. The only catch was that he had to draw pictures and convoluted diagrams to "show his work," which made no sense to Zim because he could do the calculations in his head. But he supposed it was just something that inferior human brains can't handle.

Midway through the math, Zim felt his spooch begin to rumble. Perhaps he would have Gir make him a cake. That much his robot minion can do right. He was running low on rations and his supply shipment hadn't come yet.

Actually, that sounded like a good idea.

"GIR, make me a cake!"

Gir immediately stopped doodling and gave a salute before running into the kitchen giggling.

The cake Gir ended up making was sour cream and walnut. Gir cut Zim and himself a slice. But Zim would have to take his cake to skool with him, as it was almost time for skool. Zim put his books and completed homework in his PAK, then he grabbed his cake and began to eat it as he strutted out the door. He couldn't wait to see the Dib-human's ugly face knowing his plan failed.

Zim entered the classroom. He smirked. His big-headded rival was just taking pencils out of his backpack for class.

"Ha!" Zim shouted from across the room. "Your pathetic plan to get me to forget about the homework has failed!"

"Huh?" Dib said, confused. "There wasn't any homework."

"Yes there was."

"What was it, then?"

"The math homework and an essay on why you shouldn't poke a moose."

"That wasn't-" Dib started to say, before his eyes went wide. "But it was the weekend!"

Zim cackled. "I guess you'll fail then."

"Nuh-uh!" Dib said indignantly, pulling out his books to do the homework that he forgot to do. "I bet I'll get a better grade than you!"

Zim took his seat as the bell rang. "You wish you inferior human!"

Right on cue, Miss Bitters came fourth from the shadows to begin class. Immediately the room went silent, for fear of the teacher's wrath. "Class, today's lesson is about World War I and II," she said, picking up a piece of chalk.

This subject piqued Zim’s interest. Did the humans really go to war with other planets? But as Miss Bitters wrote, Zim noticed that the chalkboard was bleeding magenta blood, as if the chalk was cutting into Irken flesh. His flesh.

Zim screamed.

"What is it now, Zim?" said the tall Irken who took Miss Bitters' place, her crystal blue eyes piercing into him. All Zim could do was stare in stunned silence.

"As I was saying, Operation Impending Doom I was a complete failure because of him!" She pointed in Zim's direction. His mangled Irken peers began to stare. So many eyes burned into his head. It hurt. It hurt so badly, his head. He felt sick. He wanted to run, but how could he? Zim's PAK was connected to the Control Brains.

No! Not another re-encoding! Zim puked all over himself before convulsing in his own vomit on the floor.

Chapter Text

Professor Membrane was in the middle of an experiment when his son called. 

"Dad!" Dib said. 

"Son, I'm in the middle of-" Membrane was cut off.

"Zim’s going to the hospital!" 

"Oh no," Membrane said. "What happened?"

"He puked and then started having a seizure or something." Dib said. "I was hoping you could, er, go see him."

"Oh, of course, son!" Membrane said. How could he not? This was his son's little green friend, after all. "I just need to wrap up this experiment and I'll be right over."

"Great! Thanks dad!"

"Any time son, I know you care about your little green friend."

"Er, yeah… right.…" With that, his son hung up.

The Professor immediately called his friend, the -Computer- green boy's father, to tell him what happened. With three rings the other picked up. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Good morning, I just got off the phone with my son," the Professor said. "Unfortunately your boy has had an episode."

"An episode?"

"From what my boy told me, it appears that your boy had convulsions in class today and is being taken to a hospital." 

His friend was silent, in shock most likely.

The Professor continued, "I will be heading over to see him in about fifteen minutes or so. Perhaps I'll finally get to see you there as well."

"I hate to ask this, but I need you to do me a favor," said the Professor's friend, whom he keeps forgetting to ask for a name.

"Anything, my friend."

"Get him out of there," he said, with grave seriousness.

The Professor was taken aback. "Pardon?"

"I need you to get him out of the hospital and back home as quickly as possible. I don't care how you have to do it."

"Alright, I'll see what I can do." said Membrane. "May I ask why?"

"It’s just, er, my son's condition. I just want to, uhh… make sure he doesn't have any interactions. With his medications."

"Ah. What medication is he taking? I'm sure that-"

"I would just prefer it if he was in my care," his friend said, a little bit more forcefully than intended.

"I understand. I would too if I was in your situation."

"I'm in this situation more times than you realize, Professor…" his chronically tired friend said with a sigh. 

"I'm sorry to hear that, my friend," Membrane said. It must be difficult to care for a child with a chronic condition like Zim’s. "I'll see if I can transfer your boy to the medical wing of my lab, and from there I can personally discharge him into your care. I can send you the transfer form to sign in a few minutes, as well."

"Thank you," said his friend before hanging up.

The Professor wrapped up his experiment and used a tablet to send his friend the hospital transfer form, as promised. Then he called Simmons to cancel everything on his schedule for the rest of the day as he walked to the garage where he parked his van.

‐—--------------‐—---------------------‐—-------‐

The Professor walked up to the front desk of the Emergency Department. "I'm looking for Zim," he said to the lady at the front desk.

"Last name?"

"Uuuuhhhh…" the Professor couldn't remember. Perhaps he never asked. He internally cursed at himself for it.

"That's alright," The front desk lady said. "Zim is an uncommon first name. I'm sure I'll be able to find him for you." 

"Thank you," said Membrane.

After a few moments, the lady asked "Pediatric?"

"Yes."

"Room 102," the lady said, motioning for the Professor's hand so that she could put on a visitor's bracelet.

"Thank you again," Membrane said. He turned in the direction of Zim’s room and opened the door to the hall. Immediately, Membrane could hear the screaming coming from Room 102. 

When Membrane got to the room, he saw Zim restrained and thrashing on the hospital bed as a team of three nurses attempted to calm him down and draw blood.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" The Professor asked.

"Professor Membrane!" One of the nurses turned to say. "We weren't expecting you  here."

"I'm a friend of the family," he said.

"Maybe you can get him to calm down," the nurse said. "We've tried everything."

"Remove the restraints," he said. The nurses did. Membrane picked Zim up as he thrashed and clawed wildly. Membrane set him down on a warm hospital blanket to swaddle him tightly and picked him up again. Zim still fought, but now he couldn't claw Membrane's face off. Membrane put a hand on Zim’s head and started rubbing his scalp while singing a song about the periodic table that used to put his children to sleep when they were little.

Within a few minutes, Zim stopped thrashing, and his screaming was reduced to a whimper. Then Membrane freed one of Zim’s arms so that the nurses could take his blood. 

When the nurse found a vein and began the blood draw, the nurse's eyes grew wide. "It’s pink!"

"Hm?"

"His blood. It's pink," said the nurse.

The Professor looked down at the vial that was filling with magenta blood. "That's… concerning." And fascinating. He had never seen blood that color before.

Another nurse with a gurney knocked on the door. "The transport is ready," they said.

"Would you like to go with him?" asked another one of the nurses.

"If that's not too much trouble," Membrane said. "May I also have his blood? Since he's going to the medical wing of my lab anyway, I see little reason to put him through another blood draw."

"I don't know if we are supposed to let you do that," the blood-drawing nurse said, "but I see little harm in it."

"Thank you," the Professor said. 

"No problem," said the nurse, as they put gauze and tape on the site of the blood-draw. "We'll put them in the transport."

"Thank you," Membrane said. He carried his son's little green friend to the transport gurney and set him down. The nurse put on the safety belt and wheeled him away, Membrane following alongside them. 

Chapter Text

They arrived at the Membrane Labs medical wing. Membrane followed the EMTs with Zim inside to the little green boy's new bed. Once settled, Membrane began the process of discharge, as he promised the boy's father. 

In the meantime, Membrane wanted to check something. He took the blood samples to the medical laboratory to analyze them. Under the microscope, the blood appeared to have a different structure from human cells. It was still clearly blood, though. 

Membrane then ran a DNA test, which showed that not only was the blood not human, it belonged to no known species on Earth. Fascinating, he thought. He wanted to run more tests, but he only had enough samples to finish a toxicology screen, which was desperately needed, especially because Zim’s chart noted possible hallucinations as one of the symptoms he was experiencing.

As the tests were being run, Membrane decided to go check on the little green boy. There was still no sign of his father anywhere. Perhaps he couldn't find a babysitter for his other two children, or maybe he was preparing to treat his son when Zim got home.

Zim was screaming again, this time holding his head in agony. The Professor felt bad for not being able to give this boy some pain medication, for fear of interactions with his medications, or with his biology that may not be compatible with human medicine. The best he could do was turn out the lights and hold him again, rubbing his scalp like he did in the hospital.

When the discharge paperwork was finally approved, Membrane carried Zim to the parking lot. He set down a cube from one of his lab coat pockets and watched as it transformed into a full-sized van. Zim was then buckled into the passenger seat before the two headed for the green boy's home.

While driving, Membrane received a call from the lab. "Hey, Professor," the voice said. 

"Yes?" The Professor asked.

"I was calling to inform you that the test results from the tox-screen you ordered have just come back positive for ergot poisoning."

"Ergot? Interesting," The Professor knew that ergot was a fungus that grew on grains such as rye. The poor boy must have eaten something contaminated with it. "Thank you."

They arrived at the house. Zim had fortunately stopped screaming. Membrane carried a very bundled Zim and knocked on the door, which was answered by a child in a dog costume.

"Science man!" the child exclaimed.

Membrane couldn't help but chuckle "Yes, I am the 'science man,'" He looked around. "Where is your father?"

"I'm here," said the -Computer- child's father. 

Ah, a PA system Membrane thought. The father must be down in a lab somewhere.

"You can set Zim on the couch," the boy's father said. Membrane set Zim down gently. 

"Burrito!" the child in the dog costume giggled. "I gonna eat you!"

"No, you won't," said the child's father as a mechanical arm came down to scoop the child up and deposit them into the kitchen.

The Professor cleared his throat. "I believe I've found what may be ailing your boy," he said.

"Oh?" said the boy's father.

"Yes, ergot poisoning. Your boy must have ingested some contaminated grains, like rye," Membrane said. "And while there is no treatment for it, symptoms should resolve within a few days for a human." 

"Great. Uhhh, thank you for telling me."

"Which leads me to this next question," the Professor said. "Why didn't you tell me your boy was a newly engineered species? It's marvelous! Oh, I have so many questions!" The Professor could not contain his excitement.

The boy's father sighed. He couldn't keep up the lie. "I might as well just tell you the truth. He's not a newly engineered species. He's… an alien."

The Professor paused for a moment, and then laughed. "Oh, that's a good one, my friend!"

The boy's father was silent for a moment. "I'm not joking," he finally said. "He is Irken, and I am a computer that is essentially a brain in a jar."

The Professor laughed some more. "You are a funny man! And creative!"

The Computer sighed. "I'm really not supposed to do this, but you leave me no choice." 

The living room floor underneath the Professor began its descent into the lower base, mildly startling the Professor.

"Where are you taking me?" asked the Professor.

"It’s time we properly met." the Computer said.

The elevator door opened to a rather large room with a giant console floating in the center. The computer commanded robotic arms to pick up the Professor and gently place him in front of the console. 

There was silence for a moment. 

"Uh, hi," the Computer said at last, the glow from his brain module brightening and dimming with the sound of his voice.

There was more silence as the Professor attempted to process what he was seeing before him. The Computer was starting to think that this was a bad idea.

"Umm, are you okay?" the Computer asked.

"Is this you?" the Professor asked. "Is this really you?"

"Yes, it's me." said the Computer, slightly relieved.

Membrane slowly extended one of his robotic arms to touch the cool glass of the Computer's brain and held it there for a moment. "I have been meaning to ask for a while now," Membrane began. "And it might sound rude, but I never actually caught your name."

"Oh, I go by pretty much anything," the Computer said. "Zim calls me Computer, Gir calls me House…."

"Oh, so Haus," Membrane said.

"No, I mean… actually yeah, you can call me that if you want."

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, Haus," Membrane said. "I would shake your hand, but…" 

"It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Professor." 

Membrane turned to shake hands with Haus's arm descended from above.

Chapter Text

The whole skool day Dib couldn't stop smiling. This was the best day of his life! Finally, his dad would see the truth. The thought of him and his dad doing the autopsy together made him giddy with excitement. And the world would finally see the alien menace plaguing the Earth, and that they were wrong and he was right all along.

Dib couldn't wait to get home!

Dib and his sister walked through the door. They found their dad in the kitchen, enjoying a cup of tea.

"Ah, hello children," their dad said. Dib was surprised that he was so calm. 

"Dad, did you go see Zim?"

"Of course," his dad said. "I told you that I would."

"Did you notice anything weird about him?" Dib asked, hoping that he would.

"As a matter of fact, I did," Membrane said. "Son, I owe you an apology. Aliens do exist."

"YES!" Dib was ecstatic! Finally his dad believed him! "So when do we do the autopsy?"

"Autopsy?" 

"Of Zim! I assume he's in the lab."

Membrane was perplexed and horrified. This was his little green friend they were talking about. "I brought your little green friend to the medical wing of my lab, yes," Membrane said. "But I brought him home as soon as-"

"YOU DID WHAT?!?!"

"I brought him home." Membrane said. "He is very sick and his guardian knows how best to care for him."

Dib couldn’t believe that his dad fell for the robot-parent ruse. "Dad, you do realize that Zim is an alien menace bent on taking over the world , right?"

"Son," Membrane said, "It’s not that simple."

"How?! How is it not that simple?!" Dib asked, frustrated. "Zim’s trying to conquer the Earth! It doesn't get simpler than that!"

"Son, your little green friend-"

"He's NOT my friend! Never has, never will be!" Dib took a breath. "After everything he's done, after locking you in space prison, you're still defending him ?!"

"He is still a child. Perhaps with proper guidance-" 

Dib stomped his foot. "Zim will never change! And he will never stop until we are all slaves to the Irken Empire! Do you understand?! Slaves!"

"Son, I-" Membrane tried to say something, but it didn't matter. Dib stormed out of the house.

‐—----------------------------------------------------

It was pouring down rain. Dib did not have an umbrella. He kinda wished he had one right now, but he was too angry at his father to run back home to get one. Besides, he was almost at Zim’s house.

Dib walked up to the door, fists clenched, and rang the doorbell.

"Welcome home, son!" said the Robodad.

Dib shoved the bot, making it fall over. Then he fell upon the Robodad, ripping its arms off and punching it in the face.

"That's b-b-bad manners, son!" it said.

Tears rolled down his face as he punched until he was completely worn out. The Robodad's face was bloodied from Dib's knuckles, but barely a dent was made in it. Dib’s right hand was swelling quite a bit.

"Come in," said a deep voice. Dib stood up, wiped away his tears, and walked in. Zim nor his robot were anywhere to be seen. Mechanical arms took his sopping wet coat.

"Take a seat," Dib obeyed, taking a seat on the couch.

"I know why you're here," the voice said.

"Who are you?" Dib asked.

"I am the base Computer. Your father calls me Haus." Haus said, mechanical arms descending from the ceiling. "Give me your hand." Dib did. "Your hand is broken. I'll have to reset the bones."

"Why are you-" Dib winced as Haus reset his bones. "-helping me?"

"Your father saved my Master's life," Haus said plainly. "I supposed I should return the favor. I know it's not a life-for-a-life thing, but close enough." 

"Why do you care about Zim so much?" Dib asked. "You're basically his slave."

That was a good question. Why does he care? Zim is a difficult master. He doesn't listen and he frequently disregards Haus's well-being. If Haus was capable, he might strangle him at times. But, Haus guesses the little guy grew on him. "It’s complicated," Haus finally said.

A robotic arm with a syringe filled with pink liquid descended from above. "What's that?" Dib asked.

"Healing nanites and pain medication," Haus said. "This should heal your broken bones within a few hours." Haus injected him with the syringe.

"So uh…" Dib started.

"You want to know what I told your father," Haus said.

"Yeah," Dib said.

Haus sprayed Dib’s hands with saline and patted them dry with some gauze. "I told your father the truth," Haus said.

"About what?"

"Everything." Haus wrapped Dib’s hands with more gauze and put the right hand in a splint. "That my Master is an alien and not really an Invader."

"What do you mean 'not really an Invader?'" Dib asked.

"He was banished to Foodcourtia for nearly annihilating Irken civilization, but he didn't… stay banished. So the Tallests sent him here to get rid of him." Haus said. "They would have him dead if they could."

"You expect me to believe that?"

Haus sighed. The TV flicked on to some sort of Irken trial, it seemed. In the middle of the room was Zim.

"HEY! Pay attention! You're missing my party!" Zim said in the recording.

"IT'S NOT A PARTY, ZIM!" said an angry tall Irken with purple eyes. "It's an IRKEN EXISTENCE EVALUATION!! AND YOU'RE—"  

"Existence evaluation?" said Dib, bewildered.

"But.. Those are for criminals... and space clowns," said Zim.

Dib watched until the end of the existence evaluation, when the control brains gave their verdict: " IRKEN ZIM's I.D PAK is damaged and has led to a corrupt data path. HE IS... A DEFECTIVE."

The TV was cut off. Dib had no words to express how he felt. It was clear to Dib that Zim was a menace to society, whether he intended to be or not. And yet, he felt bad for him because he was an outcast wherever he went. Kinda like himself, in a way.

"Now do you believe me?" Haus asked.

Dib nodded. 

"He was lucky to get out of there alive," Haus said.

"I'm sorry," Dib said. "I didn't know."

"Well, now you do," Haus said as he used his robotic arms to bring Dib his, now dry, coat and an umbrella. Dib took this as a sign that it was time to leave. 

He stood up to put on his coat and took the umbrella. Dib didn't need to step over the damaged Robodad, as it had already been swept away.

"Oh, and Dib," Haus began to say as Dib opened the door.

"Yeah?"

"Go easy on your father. He's doing his best."

Dib scoffed at the idea. "Right, doing his best."

"Please just try," Haus said.

Without another word, Dib closed the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Zim hated decontamination baths. So undignified. And it stung. Not to mention the brushes that made him feel like they were tearing his skin off as they scrubbed.

Unfortunately for Zim, he was lucid enough at that point to be aware that he hated it, his PAK having filtered out most of whatever toxins were in his system.

Gir ended up jumping in with him, squeaking his rubber duck, aggravating Zim’s throbbing headache that much more.

"Gir, stop iiiiiiiittttt," Zim whined. Gir ignored the command. He was having too much fun with his ducky. When Gir got close enough, Zim ripped the duck out of his hands and threw it as far as he could, making Gir wail. Blarghit, Zim thought.

"Decontamination complete," said the Computer. 

"About time!" said Zim. He was picked up out of the bath and put on the ground, where he was blow dried. Zim put on a fresh uniform and headed for the elevator.

He descended to his tiny computer room, where Gir couldn't get to him. 

"Computer! Turn off the lights and the monitors!" Zim commanded. The room went completely dark. Zim sighed in relief. His head was still pounding as he tried to rest.

‐—----------------------------------------------------

The Computer, having done all he could for his Master's well-being, began to play Dank Souls. Today had been a circuit-wracking day. It was time to take a much-needed break.

Then he got a call. It was the Professor. 

"Good evening, Haus," he said. 

"Hello Professor," Haus said.

"I'm sorry to bother you at this hour, but have you seen my son?"

"Actually, I have," Haus said. "I just sent him home a few minutes ago."

"Ah, thank you," the Professor said, relieved. "How is your boy doing?"

"I just gave him a decontamination bath to kill any parasites on his skin and now he is resting."

"Ah, good," the Professor said."

"Between his PAK and his squeedlyspooch, any remaining parasites in his body should be killed off." Haus said. "If not, we have a problem."

"That's good news, my friend!" the Professor said. "Well, if you ever need help with anything, please don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you, Professor," Haus said.

"Have a good evening, Haus."

"You too, Professor." Haus said before disconnecting the call.

Chapter Text

Zim woke up in darkness, headache gone. He briefly panicked until he remembered where he was. "Computer!" He said. "Take me to the house!"

Zim arrived in the kitchen through the toilet. He grabbed his favorite snack from the cupboard, one that is similar to the human candy, lik-a-stix and plopped down on the couch in between Gir and Minimoose, who were watching the angry monkey show. Gir took one of the sugary sticks. It had become a habit. Whenever they were watching tv together and Zim had a snack, Zim would always share with Gir.

Zim looked out the window to see that it was daylight. "Computer, what time is it?" He asked.

"It’s 7:52 AM" the Computer said.

"OH NO!" Zim jumped out of his seat. "I'll be late!" Zim made a dash for the door, but when he tried to open it, it wouldn't budge. "Computer! This isn't funny! Open the door!"

"No," said the Computer. "You are staying home today. We don't want a repeat of what happened yesterday."

"But I feel fine!" Zim protested.

"You were feeling fine before you left for skool yesterday," the Computer said. "You need to be closely monitored until the hallucinogen-producing parasites have worked their way through your system."

"But the Dib-" 

"Can wait for another day." the Computer said.

Since it was clear that the Computer -would not cave- WAS BEING A DOOKIE-BRAIN, Zim sat back down on the couch and -pouted.- ZIM DOES NOT POUT!

A few minutes later, a rerun of Floopsy Bloops Shmoopsy came on the TV. Zim quickly became absorbed in the show, forgetting that he was still mad at the Computer for not letting him go to skool.

"I keep telling you, Floopsy!" Zim yelled. "Shmoopsy will never bloop you back!" 

"Nyah!" Minimoose said.

"You just don't understand the intricacies of the plot!" Zim retorted.

"Nyah." Minimoose said as he floated off to the kitchen.

Zim was starting to feel sick. Had his snack gone bad, he wondered. He checked the expiration date, only to find his Tallests staring back at him with blood running from their eyes and mouths.

Zim gasped. "My Tallests!"

"We are not your Tallests anymore, Zim," they said in eerie unison.

"What do you mean?"

"You killed us, Zim," they said.

"No I didn't! I just talked to you a couple months ago!"

"You saw the Massive burning," said Red.

"And you haven't been able to contact us since," said Purple.

"N-no! It wasn't me!" Zim cried.

"Face it Zim," said Purple. "You're a murderer," 

"A criminal." 

" DEFECTIVE, " they said. " YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO LIVE !"

"No!" Zim shouted. "It’s not true!"

The Tallests burst into flames and melted in Zim's hands, spilling red and purple goop onto the couch.

"Gir," Zim retched. "Get the buck-!" But it was too late. Zim vomited onto the floor. When Zim looked over, he saw Gir, in duty mode and dripping magenta blood.

"ALL DEFECTIVES MUST BE TERMINATED! " Gir said, blasters and rockets trained on Zim.

Zim screamed and ran for the toilet. He quickly descended as the walls closed in on him. He had to escape by using his PAK lazers to punch a hole in the elevator shaft. 

When he got out, he took a moment to catch his breath, but it was short-lived. Gir was right behind him. Zim ran. As fast as he could, trying desperately to shake his servant-gone-rogue. But no mater where he turned, Gir would always find him. 

Mechanical arms all around tried to grab him. All Zim could do was dodge them as they came. That is until one of them caught him, dangling him above the now enormous bloody SIR unit below, jaw unhinged. So much blood. And teeth. So many teeth! Zim clung to the arm for dear life before he was shaken off into the maw of the mechanical beast.

Zim screamed all the way down. He hit the floor with a thud! Only it wasn't really a floor. It was a table. He was strapped down, face up. He struggled against his restraints. 

He looked over to his side. "Dib!" Zim cried. "No!"

Dib pressed his scalpel against Zim’s skin and sliced his flesh open in the shape of a 'Y' on his torso. Zim screamed as Dib cut away hus ribs with a bone saw. There was so much pain. So much blood. Zim watched as Dib tore out his spooch and other vital organs before everything went black.

Chapter Text

Dib was quiet for most of the walk home from skool that day. He couldn't stop thinking about the other night. Zim being a defective in his society? Not being an Invader? Accidentally killing not just one but two of his planet's leaders? Dib didn't really know how to feel about all of that.

"Hey," Gaz said. "You've been really quiet the whole way home. Not that I'm complaining." 

"It's just that…" Dib started. "Zim’s not really an Invader,"

"I could've told you that." his sister said. "He's so bad at invading."

"Debatable," Dib said. "But even so, he is still a threat to mankind. He proved that with the Florpus."

"You mean the thing Dad easily fixed?"

"Yeah, after we freed him from space prison." Dib said.

"Even Zim’s 'best' plans are doomed to fail."

"Because we step in."

"Because he's a moron," Gaz said. "Last time I checked, the Florpus wasn't even a part of his plan."

"Maybe not, but-"

"And he wouldn't have had the plan in the first place if it wasn't for you." Gaz said, glaring at her brother.

Dib stopped walking. "How was I supposed to know that dad's bracelet thing would give him ideas?" 

Gaz turned to her brother. "Look, all I'm saying is you obsess over Zim too much. Maybe it's time to dial it back a bit."

"Are you saying that I should just ignore Zim?" Dib asked.

"That's not what I'm saying at all," Gaz said. "If you want to watch Zim, go for it. Just don't let your obsession take over your life. I'd hate to see you become a chair again."

When they finally get home, they find their dad heading into his lab downstairs. "Ah, hello children," their dad said. "How was school?"

"Fine," Dib said. "Zim wasn't in class today."

"It’s a good thing he wasn't," his dad said. "I just got off the phone with Haus. Your little green friend isn't doing well." 

"He's not-" Dib sighed. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's infected with hallucinogen-producing parasites," his dad said. "They are multiplying instead of being eradicated, like we'd hoped. So I've offered to help find a cure."

"You're going to help cure an alien?" Dib asked.

"Son, just because your friend isn't human doesn't mean we show him any less humanity." Membrane said. "Perhaps you could give him a get-well card or a present to help distract him?"

Suddenly, Dib had an idea. "Actually Dad, that's a great idea," he said.

"You go have fun," said Membrane as Dib ran up to his room to look for something for Zim. Zim can't do anything evil if he's distracted with something else.

He dug around in his closet, searching for it. Then he finally found it. A Rubik's Cube that he hasn't used since the third grade. Dib ran back downstairs and out the door.

‐—-----‐—--------------------------------------------

Dib knocked on the door to the house. A very crabby Zim answered. "What is it, Earth-stink?" Zim asked.

"I heard you still weren't feeling well, so I brought you this."

"What is it?" Zim asked, rubbing his temples.

"It’s a Rubik's Cube," Dib said. "It’s a puzzle where you try to get all of the sides to be a single solid color."

Zim eyed the cube carefully. "This is some kind of trick, isn't it?" 

"No trick," Dib said. "Just a present. It's… uh, customary to give sick people gifts."

"ZIM NEEDS NO PITY GIFT!" Zim yelled. "I'M FINE!"

"Fine, I bet you aren't smart enough to solve it anyway."

Zim snatched the cube from Dib's hand. "Fool! Irken smeets could solve this blindfolded!"

"Prove it, then." Dib said, a smirk on his face. Zim glowered at him, and then began twisting the cube. For several minutes, Zim twisted and turned the cube, even as Dib turned away to leave. Mission accomplished.

Chapter Text

The Professor knocked on the door to the house, which opened by itself.

"Good morning, Professor," Haus said.

"Good morning, Haus," said the Professor. "How are you doing today?"

"Can't complain," Haus said. The Professor saw Zim playing with his new Rubik's Cube on the floor in front of the TV as Gir and Minimoose took turns stacking potato chips on his head. "He's been at that thing since your son gave it to him yesterday afternoon."

"Ah, I see," the Professor said. He was glad his son's little green friend liked his son's gift.

"I have the samples you requested," Haus gave him a box filled with parasite samples. 

"Ah, good!" said the Professor. "I can begin analyzing these in the lab today."

"Your blood sugar is low," Haus said. "Before you go, would you like some breakfast?"

"Oh, I don't want to impose…"

"I insist," Haus said. "Are waffles okay?"

"Waffles would be lovely, my friend," Membrane said. He walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table. 

"Would you like some tea?" Haus asked as his mechanical arms simultaneously poured hot water into a cup and poured flour into a large bowl.

"Yes please," Membrane said. "Forgive me if this is rude of me to ask, but how exactly do you work? I am very curious."

"Well, I have two major components. First, my brain holds my personality and installation procedures. It also does a lot of high-level task assignment," Haus said, bringing Membrane some condiments for his tea. "Cream and sugar?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Second is the large structure that contains my console," Haus said. "It supports the brain and does the bulk of the task execution and data storage. Almost like a PAK, now that I think about it…"

"Fascinating," Membrane said. "Could you explain to me what a PAK is?"

"Oh, right," Haus said, completely forgetting that Membrane wasn't Irken for a moment. "A PAK is basically a life support, storage unit, and a secondary brain rolled into one. All Irkens have them. I can go into more detail if you'd-" 

Zim screamed at the sight of Membrane in the kitchen. "Computer! Intruder alert!"

"Calm down, Zim," Haus said. "The Professor is a guest."

"Wha…?"

"Please, come sit with us," Membrane said. "Haus is making waffles." He looked up. "He can have waffles, right?"

"Yes," Haus said. "It’s one of the few human foods that he can eat."

Zim took a seat across from the Professor, eyeing him suspiciously. A stack of waffles  drenched in syrup was placed in front of each of them. Zim took a bite. "Oooo it's spicy!" he said before digging in for more.

"I put some cinnamon and nutmeg in the batter," said Haus. "I can only hope it's okay, Professor. I have no way of knowing, as I don't have a sense of taste or smell."

"It’s wonderful, Haus. Thank you," said Membrane. He turned to Zim. "So Zim, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," Zim said through a mouthful of waffles. He practically inhaled most of the waffles on his plate already.

"You certainly look better than you did the last time we met," the Professor said, carving off his next bite. Zim didn’t say anything, as he was too busy stuffing his face. "Haus told me about the parasites that you genetically engineered yourself. That's rather impressive."

"Mmm yes! It is rather impressive, isn't it?" Zim said, eating another waffle.

"Don't praise him too much," Haus warned,  "It'll go straight to his head."

"Noted," the Professor said. "I was wondering if you could tell me a bit more about it."

Zim thought for a moment. "Alright," he said. "But only because no one else will be able to grasp how ingenious it is!" 

Zim and Membrane discussed the process of genetically engineering the parasites for a few minutes. The Professor was genuinely fascinated, asking lots of questions that Zim happily answered. But in the middle of the conversation, Zim stopped, suddenly horrified by something.

"Zim?" The Professor asked, concerned. 

"I think he's starting to-"

Zim fell out of his chair, screaming and backing away.

"Yup," Haus sighed.

"How often does this happen?" Membrane asked.

"About every time he tries to eat, it seems," Haus said, readying a bucket. "Nothing stays down."

"Ah," said the Professor. "Do you have a blanket?"

"Yes," Haus said. A mechanical arm with a blanket descended from the ceiling. "Here you go."

The Professor quickly caught and swaddled Zim in the blanket, getting scratched on the face in the process. He then started stroking Zim’s head as he sat down on the couch. Zim retched, but this time the bucket was ready as he puked into it. 

The Professor held Zim until he stopped screaming, then set him down on the couch to get up. "I figure you can take it from here, my friend," he said.

"Yeah," said Haus. "Don't forget the samples." Haus handed him the parasite samples.

"Thank you, Haus," the Professor said. "And thank you for breakfast. It was delicious."

"Any time, Professor," Haus said. "I enjoy your company."

"As do I, my friend," Membrane said. "I look forward to meeting you again."

Chapter Text

It was late in the afternoon and Zim was lying on the couch, still swaddled from that morning. His head was killing him. He didn't want to move, but he had an itch that he needed to scratch.

"Computeeeeer!" Zim whined. "Unwrap meeeeee!"

"I don't want to," said the Computer.

"Giiiiiiirrrr! Get me out of this thing!"

"Okie dokie!" said Gir before he ripped the blanket off of his Master, sending him crashing to the floor, face first. 

Zim got up with a groan, scratching the back of his neck. He stretched. Gir already went back to watching whatever drivel was on TV.

Zim held his head as he made his way over to the trash can. He descended into one of his underground labs looking for inspiration for his latest plan to destroy the humans. But the more he tried to scheme, the more frustrated he became.

Zim kicked his lab table, causing him to howl in pain.

"Master," the Computer said.

"WHAT?!?" Zim yelled.

"Maybe you should take it easy," the Computer said. "You're still sick…"

"Take it easy? Take it easy!?!? " Zim scoffed. "I haven't done anything in three days and you want me to take it easy !?!?"

"Master, you're not thinking straight," the Computer said. "Perhaps some rest would-"

"I DON'T NEED REST! I NEED AN EVIL PLAN !"

The Computer sighed. He knew Zim was cranky because of his headache; a headache that Zim's stubborn Irken self would refuse medicine for. Zim was also probably feeling inadequate and, from what the Computer could tell, his hallucinations certainly didn't help.

The Computer used an evil plan generator he found online to help Zim come up with a plan. Not like Zim would really listen anyway. "How about, uhh, evil robot death bees?"

"Nah," Zim dismissed the Computer's suggestion. "WAIT! How about evil robot death bees?"

The Computer groaned. He just said that. But this was on-brand for Zim.

Zim worked all night on his latest plan. In the morning, he put the container of evil robot death bees in his PAK and got ready to go to skool. 

"Master, you really shouldn't go to skool today," said the Computer as Zim tried to open the door before he found it locked.

"I'm fine! " Zim protested. "Computer, open the door!"

"No," the Computer said. "I won't risk you going to the hospital again."

"What good is an evil plan if I can't act on it?" Zim said.

"You can execute your plan when you're well again," the Computer said. 

But Zim wasn't having it. He looked over to the window, and suddenly he had an idea. He grinned before darting over to the window, which was unlocked, and jumped out before the Computer could do anything about it. The gnomes attempted to catch Zim, but he was too fast. He ran out of the yard and down the street. 

Shit, the Computer thought.

—---------------------------------------------------

Zim strutted into the classroom whistling innocently. Dib looked over to find Zim sitting down at his desk. 

Dib walked over. "Aren't you still sick?" he asked. "Shouldn't you be home?"

"I'm fine, human ! " Zim said, annoyed.

"No you're not. My dad just talked to your Computer last night." Dib said. 

"LIES!" Zim screamed.

"Oh well, at least you're not doing anything evil." Dib said.

"That's where you're wrong, Dib!" Zim said. "I have a BRILLIANT evil plan right now that I will put into motion at recess today and there's NOTHING you can do to stop me!"

"No!" Dib yelled. Zim cackled as Miss Bitters entered the room through the ether to start class.

"Silence!" she commanded. Zim stopped laughing and Dib took his seat. "Class today we will-"

"Miss Bitters," said a voice over the intercom.

"What is it this time?" Miss Bitters hissed.

"Can you send Zim to the office for early dismissal?"

Miss Bitters growled. She looked at Zim and pointed at the door. "Go!" she said.

Zim was surprised. He had never been dismissed early before. Why was he being dismissed now?

When he got to the office, he was doubly surprised to see Dib’s father. "Ah, Hello, Zim," he said. "Are you ready to go?"

"Go where?" Zim asked.

"Home, of course," Membrane said. "Your 'father' asked me to-"

"But I have much to do!" Zim said. "I can't go home now!"

"It can wait for another day," Membrane said. "Now, let's go."

"Uuuuugghhh," Zim groaned. " Fine. "