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invadernurse · 1 year ago

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Catching Flies (Revised) Ch. 21

Chapter 21: Birth of a Destroyer

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Teacher!Reader makes the mistake of trying to help the two most troubled kids in your class. This leads to forming a science club, learning some childhood psychology, adopting an alien older than you, and somehow catching Professor Membrane’s interest.

Afab Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

Chapter One |Master post |Ao3

Boltzman was furious. How dare you humiliate him like that! In public! In front of Professor Membrane! You had woven your lies so tight and so through that you managed to convince the Professor that you were special somehow.

He would make you regret this; absolutely regret this.

Boltzman made his way to the Irken household. He may have never met Zim's parents, but hopefully they cared enough for their spawn that he could rile them against miss nemo.

What he wasn't expecting was two tall, lanky adults that looked nothing like Zim. "Welcome!" They greeted him in unison, though something about them made his skin crawl and his mind scream that something was not right. "How can we help you?"

"You're Mr and Mrs Irken?" he asked, wondering if he got the wrong address.

"We are," they answered with the same creepy smile. "How can we help you?"

"I… need to speak to you regarding Miss Nemo…"

"Mx." They snapped, their eyes narrowing as their smiles disappeared, sending more shivers down his spine.

"Right… so you know… them."

Their smiles returned as if they hadn't looked murderous five seconds before. "Of course! They have been most helpful with raising Zim."

Shit. You already managed to befriend them. Boltzmanm grinded his teeth, trying to think of how to proceed. There had to be something in your past you were hiding. Something he could uncover to show your true motives.

You were an English teacher, for crying out loud! You couldn't be that great of a mastermind!

"We're quite happy they returned to be a part of Zim's life,” the couple continued in perfect unison. “We're such better parents thanks to them…"

Wait. "Returned?"

***

When Monday came around, you were still floating on cloud nine. After all, a successful friend-date with the professor, seeing his face, and then he was on your side to hide Zim from child protective services…. Things couldn't go any better. And at the moment, you refused to let your logical side remind you that when things were going great, the universe seemed to hit you the hardest.

And while you knew that Boltzmann probably had it out for you, you didn't expect to see both him and Meyers waiting for you as soon as you entered, both looking extremely excited. Which did not bode well for you.

"Miss Nemo," Meyers greeted. "Finally, the mystery is revealed."

"Uh, what?" You asked, deciding it was too early in the morning to deal with the two. Yet it didn't seem as if they were going to give you any other choice.

"I wondered why you had taken such interest in those two troublemakers," Meyers stated. "At first I thought maybe it was just because you were a gold digger trying to catch Professor Membrane's eye…"

That certainly woke you up, kindling your annoyance into fury."What?!"

Your protest was ignored as Boltzman shoved a piece of paper in your face. It looked like a print out from a website that wasn't meant to be printed, but you froze as you read the contents. You didn't think before ripping the paper from his hands to read it closer, hoping your initial thoughts were wrong.

They weren't.

"This… this isn't real!" You shouted, clenching the paper in your hand. "What the hell are you two smoking to make something like this up?!"

"We haven't been making anything up!" Boltzmann argued back, that snide look still on his face. "You are the one trying to cover up the truth!"

"I am not! This is completely ridiculous! I-I am not Zim's biological mother!"

By now a crowd of other staff had gathered and you were aware of their whispers and gossiping. All the while Boltzmann and Meyer looked unconvinced.

"We have documents to prove it," Meyer stated firmly. "It took some digging, but you can't hide it anymore."

"Besides, his adoptive parents have already confirmed it," Boltzmann added smugly. "I talked with them myself."

Adoptive… your were reminded of Zim's robotic parents. And then when you had 'helped' update them….

And Zim had taken your name as his mother's while falsifying those records.

Oh god.

Your stomach twisted as the realization of the possibility. If his computer messed up and actually put you as his biological mother when forging his birth certificate….

Your thoughts must have played across your face, and paired with your silence took it as if you admitted you were right.

"I'm placing you on administrative leave until I can figure out how to discipline your omission," Meyer added with glee. "After everything, I am sure that the school board will want to review your case before you're allowed to influence any other poor children."

***

"What the hell?!" You seethed after Dib and Zim appeared as you were cleaning out your office. Your eyes burned from tears as you pointed to the laptop Professor Membrane had gifted you, showing the same papers that Boltzman and Meyer had confronted you with. "Why am I listed as your mother, Zim?! I never agreed to that!"

Dib bit back a laugh, looking between you and Zim, who's green complexion paled considerably. "Computer!" Zim screeched after a moment, his Pak's light flaring to life. "Explain! Now!"

"Well, it was too much work to create three whole new humans in their systems," the computer's voice sighed from the pak. "So I just used Mx. Nemo and a random male who died in the last few years. I figured that would be good enough."

Silence reigned before both you and Zim screamed with the same panicked and angry tone. "You did what?!"

"Fix it!" Zim snarled as you tried to calm yourself. "Fix it now!"

"How?" The computer shot back. "Obviously the humans are already aware, and do you know how bothersome that is?"

"I don't care!" Zim stomped his foot petulantly. "I want it fixed now!"

Yet as much as you wanted it fixed, for the whole situation to just disappear… you knew it wouldn't. Boltzmann and Meyer believed they knew the truth and trying to convince them of anything else was going to be impossible.

Hell, they'd probably make things worse if the birth certificate suddenly disappeared.

“The computer’s right. It’s too late now. We’re just going to have to deal with the fall out,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. “Even if they fire me, I’m sure I can --”

“Fire you?! They dare threaten your life with FIRE?!”

“No, Zim--!” You and Dib exclaimed, trying to stop the alien from jumping to conclusions, but it was no use. The spider-legs unfolded from his pak and he darted out of your hole-in-the-wall office and down the hall towards the principal’s office. You and Dib raced after him, through the crowds of students who were oddly enough not that surprised by the sight.

However, when the lasers blasted the door of the principal's office open, there was significantly more panic in the halls.

"You dare to threaten Mx. Nemo?!" Zim snarled, landing on top of Meyer’s desk, the spider legs shifting to point at the pudgy man menacingly. “I will show you the might of the Irken Empire!”

Meyers looked like he was about to melt into a puddle in his chair, but Boltzmann, who happened to be in the office as well, wasn’t as intimidated. "Mr. Irken, if you do not settle down at this moment," Boltzmann snapped from beside the principal. "I will send you to proper detention. And failing that, expulsion."

“I WILL EXPULSE YOU FROM THIS PLANE OF EXISTENCE!” Zim roared back just as you and Dib reached the office. “This is unforgivable blasphemy!”

How was it he could be eloquent and yet misunderstand simple terms at the same time? You distantly wondered before wrapping your arms around the small alien and lifting him off the desk. “Zim, no.”

“Zim yes!” He snarled, twisting in your grip, reminding you oddly of a frenzied cat. “Let me destroy your enemies for you! They have bothered you enough! They need to be punished!”

“Zim, listen to me! Listen to your Tallest!” you tried, desperate to keep a hold on him. “Leave them alone!”

The boy suddenly went still in your arms, and you realized what you said, as well as the fact you knew what that simple term actually meant. The pinnacle of the Irk hierarchy. The Absolute Authority.

To say it shook you for a moment was understatement.

“Do you really want to let these insects live after all they’ve done?” Zim spoke, breaking your thoughts. “After they dare to threaten you with fire?”

For one moment, you looked at the two. Meyer was still obviously terrified, and Boltzmann was sneering at you with disdain. It would be easy to let the alien invader loose on the two. Your mind burned with the stolen memories of Zim destroying whole planets and wiping out entire civilizations. Put in the right mood, Zim could likely destroy the school--the whole city-- and would think nothing of it. He’d laugh triumphantly.

You wanted to blame those same memories for the small urge to allow it. To let Zim create chaos and burn everything in his wake. To exact revenge on your behalf. Yet you knew at least of it was the hurt you had buried deep beneath finally trying to escape now that it had an ounce of outside validation.

“I want you safe,” you admitted, and felt him tense in your arms--likely offended at the implication that he was weak or something. “They’re not worth it, Zim.”

Zim snarled, sharp teeth exposed. "Fine, I will spare their pathetic lives, but if they ever dare to insult my Tallest again, they will suffer. You think you have seen Zim's might? YOU HAVE SEEN NOTHING!!!"

***

No one had protested when Dib and Zim had decided to skip out of school when you left. At least, none of the other teachers did; you had weakly reprimanded both of them though it was obvious that your heart wasn’t it.

Dib had decided it would be better to give you space and had assumed Zim had listened when he advised the alien to do so, but also doubted when he noticed Zim watching you board the city bus with an odd expression on his face.

This was far out of Dib’s normal circle of paranormal, aliens, and middle school. How were they going to fix this? It sounded like Meyers already planned to fire you, and you were already resigned to that fate. What would happen then? Would you leave their lives?

He never… he never lost somebody before. Not like this. And he didn’t want to think how Zim would react.

He mulled over the thoughts as he put his backpack away and sat at the kitchen table out of habit, taking out his tablet to brainstorm. He had to figure something out. Nevermind the fact that he would miss you, or the fact that he had never seen his dad so involved in something that was not science. Keeping you in their lives would keep the earth safe. You had helped Zim change so much…

Not only would Dib lose you, he worried he would lose the friendship that had been forged between him and the alien.

"Dib? What are you doing home?” Speak of the devil, Professor Membrane emerged from his basement laboratory, brows twisted into a frown. “And why do you look like someone died?"

Dib rubbed his face with a whine. Of course today was the day his dad had decided to work from home. “I… I think the school is going to fire Mx. Nemo."

There was a moment of silence as the two stared at each other before Professor Membrane spoke deceptively calm. "They plan on doing what?”

“Fire Mx. Nemo?” he repeated, and watched with a little bit of fear as Professor Membrane’s expression changed. He was used to seeing his dad exasperated, annoyed, and disgruntled. But not angry. "On what grounds?" Professor Membrane continued coldly.

"Uh…" Dib scrambled. How was he going to explain this? "Well, I mean it's not actually official yet, though Mx. Nemo was placed on administrative leave…"

The glass beaker in Professor Membrane's hand shattered, though he didn’t seem to notice. "On what grounds?" He repeated.

For once, Dib felt a sliver of intimidation by his father. He had seen the serious side like this before, but usually towards his employees. “Well, it's complicated, but…they may think that Mx. Nemo is actually Zim's biological mother and they've been hiding the fact and also something about unfair and privileged treatment?"

***

You had two weeks until rent was due. And after that, you had thirty days to leave your apartment if they moved to evict you right away. You might get lucky and get an extension, but you didn’t want to count on it either.

You moved your thoughts over to your other expenses, and how to make your funds last until you got another job. After all, you knew there was no way Meyer was going to allow you back. You weren't sure you wanted to go back at this point; you loved your students and everything.

But putting up with Meyer and Boltzmann was starting to wear you down. Today had just been the last straw on the camel’s back.

Sudden, sharp pounding at the door broke through your thoughts. There was barely time to stand before Zim burst through the door, snarling as he glared at you.

Which was rich, considering he was the reason that you were in this predicament to begin with. If it was any other day, you would have faced him with calm patience. Today, your ire rose at the provocation and you had to literally bite your tongue to keep from lashing out. Especially considering that fixing the door was going to cut into your already tight budget. "What do you want, Zim?" You asked instead, barely keeping an even tone.

"For these foolish humans to admit who their true superiors are!" He answered as he paced. "They dare to exile you?! We should burn their puny school and make them pay for their idiocy!"

Tallest. Supreme Authority. "I'm not superior in any way, Zim! I am no one, and I have nothing now!” You shouted at both him and the thoughts in your head, tears stinging your eyes. “I'm jobless, soon to be homeless, and an absolute failure! I'll have to go find a job at Bloaty's or something, because no one is going to hire me as a teacher! Everything I worked for has been ripped from me. "

There was silence from the small alien as you collapsed back on your couch, hot tears stinging in your eyes. Your dream of helping people, nurturing the next generation, of finding kids that slipped through the cracks and mentoring them… Gone.

People had laughed at you. Had warned you that you wouldn't find it as easy as you hoped. You wanted so badly to prove them wrong, and instead proved them right.

But who would have thought aliens would be part of the reason you failed?

"Why are your eyes leaking?" Zim asked after a moment, sounding both disgusted and perplexed. "What are your eyes leaking? EH?! AND YOUR NOSE TOO?"

A hysterical choked laugh escaped despite everything as you wiped your eyes. "It's called crying, Zim. It's a human thing when we're feeling sad, amongst other strong emotions. Such as when one realizes how much of a failure we are."

"Then there is no reason for you to be doing such a disgusting thing!" He argued. "You shouldn't be sad, you should be full of the angry bees of fury! You should be screaming your rage to the galaxy!"

"Why? Because they caught me in our lie?” You shot back. “They found out you put me as your birth mother. They think--and have proof-- that I was showing blatant favoritism! Which, I guess I was, but not for the reason they think! But either way, they're going to use that against me and I don't have any way to argue. I failed. I've only been a teacher for less than a year and I already failed."

"Lies!" Zim snarled. "Their stupidity is trying to infect you! Out of all the pathetic, disgusting humans on this horrible planet, you have been the only one to show the least bit of intelligence! I've actually learned about your pathetic species because of your efforts. You… you are my new Tallest," he continued after a pause, tone shifting slightly. "And for them to accuse you of being inferior is unacceptable. For you to think you are inadequate is unacceptable! You are Zim's Almighty Tallest! Which means you're the best!"

You swore your heart melted at his declaration. Who would have thought one of the most troubled students would become so attached to you?

Or that he was a true alien.

And had forged documents that you had given birth to him.

Leading you to this moment.

"As sweet as that is," you sighed, happy moments quickly passing. "The fact is the rest of the world doesn't see it that way. I am hardly a Tallest in their eyes, and that's going to have a large impact on my future."

Zim narrowed his eyes. "It's not sweet, it is the salty cheesy taste of truth! And if those scum-worms fail to realize it, then we shall burn their empire of lies to the ground and raise a new mighty empire! The mightiest of schools! Educate these pathetic earth-worms about their insignificance! And then we shall conquer the rest of the universe!"

It was definitely the hysteria setting in as you laughed slightly, shaking your head at his antics. If only the world worked like he believed. Or that you could be so full of passion and conviction. Things would be so much better.

Your phone suddenly rang, breaking the moment of silence. You half expected it to be the school already, announcing that you were officially fired.

Instead, it was Professor Membrane.

Oh stars, had Dib already told him? How was he going to react? Did he believe the forged documents? How would you even explain?

You answered before you could lose yourself in your anxieties, though before you could greet Professor Membrane via the holo-screen, Zim appeared between you and the screen with a snarl. "Who dares interrupt the Mighty Zim!"

"Zim, calm down," you chided exasperated as you gently nudged him to the side so you could see Professor Membrane, your stomach twisting in knots. He… did not look happy. Granted, he rarely did. The man was rather stoic thanks to his face being hidden most of the time. Yet what you could see of his expression was more severe than you were used to. "Professor?"

"Dib has explained that you are facing dismissal from the school,” Membrane explained. “While I do my best to avoid nepotism, I want to encourage you to apply to Membrane Labs. We've opened a new department for educational outreach programs and we’re hiring people from various backgrounds."

You gaped at him, stunned by his words. A job offer was the last thing you had been expecting. A job at Membrane Labs. A world-renowned employer and very particular on who they hired.

"Eh? No!” Zim moved so he was looking over your shoulder, clutching at you while hissing at the screen. “You are not allowed to steal Mx. Nemo away just because those idiots think they can command them! They will be returning to school to rule with an iron fist!"

"Zim. It doesn't work like that," you sighed before looking back at the professor. Surely you had misheard him, or somehow misunderstood him. "And… are you sure? I mean, this whole debacle just started, I haven't even been technically fired yet…" and you weren't even sure how much Dib had told him. How much did he know?

The professor simply nodded. “Yes. You were the reason that we created the new department, and it seems fitting for you to be a part of it. I wasn’t going to ask previously because I knew you valued your teaching profession, but the revelation of your situation has changed my mind.”

#invader zim #professor membrane #enter the florpus #dib membrane #invaderzim #catching flies #invader zim zadf #professor membrane x reader #invader zim fic #catching flies fic

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invadernurse · 1 year ago

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I’ve just found out (via @[email protected]) that in the US it’s not mandatory to register a newborn and it’s absolutely fucking up my mind …

… How… anything really… can even work?

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invadernurse · 1 year ago

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Catching Flies (Revised) Ch. 20

Chapter 20: Close Encounters of the (?) Kind

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Afab Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

Chapter One |Master post |Ao3

If you had thought Professor Membrane would allow you to go home-- where you would be unsupervised-- you were sorely mistaken. Any and all of your protests that you were perfectly fine and able to take care of yourself were quickly destroyed by his rebuttal that just because you appeared to ‘fine’ now didn’t mean something could occur through the night.

So once again you found yourself staying the night with the Membrane Family. Plus Zim, who like Membrane seemed to go on high-alert every time you winced from the headache that liked to suddenly go from a dull ache to a sharp stab. Zim would fuss while Membrane more or less dragged you back down to his lab for another round of tests and scans.

One would think you would enjoy the attention, especially from the professor himself. But in truth, it was overwhelming. To have people who cared enough to fuss over you wasn’t exactly something you typically dealt with. You had always relied on yourself and no one else. No one else had ever been around to care, let alone to the extreme of this.

An invader couldn’t rely or trust anyone but themself. To show weakness or compassion was a death sentence.

Despite currently being alone, you still tried to refrain from reacting to the stab of pain and renewed your focus on the homework you were grading.

You had tried to reason that grading assignments was a reason for you to return to your home, but Zim had quickly interjected that Gir could gather anything and everything you would need. Before you could protest, he had already ordered Gir via his pak backpack walkie-talkie. Less than ten minutes late, the tiny bot and Mini Moose returned riding a giant pig that vomited half of your apartment on the living room floor. Including the contents of your underwear drawer. Which had just added the cherry to the top of the horrible situation as your private garments fell at the feet of both your students and Professor Membrane.)

You should probably retire to the guest room and try to get a few hours of sleep, but the fact you kept getting caught up in your head meant you hadn’t finished half of the grading that you meant to. Instead the day replayed itself over and over in your head-- so much like the Expo. You had almost died--or worse. Why had you been so rash? To protect yourself? Or Zim? Either way, how was that going to play out? Once he was assured you were as okay as you hoped, you were sure Membrane would push for more answers.

Would this break his refusal to believe in extraterrestrials? Or would he accept the idea that two twelve year olds managed to do the impossible? What if he did finally push through that mental block and admit aliens were real? And that Zim was one of them? What would you do? What could you do?

Then there were the headaches. The flashes of memories and images that were not your own. Knowledge that you never learned. Your mind was rebelling against it, struggling to process and accept the information that had been forced in.

“While I was initially wary of you sleeping, you have proven to have no apparent brain injury that would contradict sleep, Mx. Nemo.”

You looked up from your computer and saw Membrane lingering at the doorway to his basement lab. You hadn’t heard the floor open, let alone him climbing the stairs.

“I need to finish grading,” you explained, rubbing your face to both wake yourself up and force your thoughts to focus. “I shouldn’t be longer than another hour or so.”

“It’s already two in the morning,” he said skeptically. “Sleep deprivation is scientifically proven to be unhealthy and will negatively impact your healing as well as your ability to function tomorrow.”

You shifted in your seat, feeling sufficiently chastened for a moment before remembering all of his own late-night emails. “You wouldn’t happen to be talking from experience, would you?”

There was a flush of color to what you could see of his face. “I may be a bit of a hypocrite,” he acknowledged. “However, that doesn’t mean I;m wrong. Especially considering the ordeal you've been through.”

You didn’t really think anything of him crossing the kitchen to check the bandage on the back of your neck--he had done so several times through the evening to assure there was no more drainage-- be it blood or cerebrospinal fluid. Yet, despite his repeated checking, it still gave you goosebumps as Membrane’s hands carefully pushed aside your hair, his fingers grazing your neck softly. You knew there was nothing but betal beneath his gloves, yet that didn't dampen the fact you found the gesture almost intimate in a way.

Maybe you should give into sleep after all.

“I’m still astounded and perplexed,” he whispered, tracing the edge of the dressing. You forced a wry smile, even though he couldn’t see you.

“I think the fact you all but admit that the fact I am not dead is a miracle has made that quite clear.”

“While I dislike the notion of supernatural intervention, you have somehow defied all ration expectations. But I am also talking about the idea of you volunteering for this experiment.”

Ah. You had just been pondering this situation as well.

“Yeah, I uh…” Nothing was coming to you, making you scramble for your words. ‘I was too trusting. Too worried about everything. Too impulsive.’ “I messed up,” you finally finished. “I'm sorry.”

“...science is as much as successes as it is learning from mistakes. I am thankful that this time there were no disastrous consequences.” Membrane took a seat next to you. “I have had time to review my earlier actions, and I do apologize for allowing that emotional outburst.”

Your brows knitted together as you frowned. “You mean back in the lab? Professor, that was nothing to apologize for…”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “As a man of science, I should not allow my emotions to affect me like that.”

Without thinking, you took his hand in yours. “You may be a man of science, but you’re also just a man. One whose friend did something incredibly stupid and impulsive. If anything, I'm touched. I-I never really had others worry for me like that.”

Professor Membrane held your hand tightly for a long moment, silent as he reflected on your words. Maybe it was because you were finally able to reflect on the events yourself, but… your words were far more heartfelt then he probably knew. You weren’t exaggerating when you said that you hadn’t had anyone care for you like this. Not because of any duty or obligation like the foster homes and orphanages you had been shuffled through but because he genuinely cared for you.

If you weren’t already falling in love with him, the revelation alone would have had you falling heads over heels. As it was, it made your chest clench and a lump formed in your throat.

“The impending possibility of your death scared me in ways I’m not quite familiar with,” Professor finally spoke. “I have lost many coworkers to workplace accidents, but never have I felt the absolute terror I did seeing you like that.”

You recalled the intimate moment in the lab as he admitted to something familiar. Had anyone really cared if you lived or died before? Your parents certainly hadn’t, and everyone else was likely more concerned with the paperwork that would be involved.

Without thinking, you followed the impulse of your tired brain and stood, closing the distance between you and leaned over awkwardly to give him a hug. Before you could even begin to worry about stepping over a boundary, Professor Membrane wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his lap, pressing you tightly against him. To say the least, you were more than a bit surprised, as well as flustered.

But oddly, you were also comfortable. When--if ever-- did you have someone hug you so tightly? Your heart was pounding while feeling so full and complete at the same time. You decided to just go with the flow and leaned your head against his shoulder. No words were spoken, leaving the kitchen peacefully quiet as you both took comfort in each other.

--+--

Your phone was ringing.

The other staff in the break room gave you an odd look, and you could hardly blame them. Here it was, seven in the morning, and your phone was letting out an overly cheery tone.

At least it was Friday.

"Uh, sorry," you apologized as you fished your phone from your pocket, embarrassment turning to worry when you saw it was Professor Membrane. You had just seen him a little more than an hour before as you rushed out the door-- Granted that had just been in passing with barely a hello and goodbye. After months of usually either skipping breakfast over having something very quick and easy, it had been a delight to wake up to a full breakfast of your favorites prepared by Foodio that you had lost track time.

When the professor had entered the kitchen, you coincidently were suddenly aware of how late it was and suddenly bolted out the door.

The little video screen popped to life with a faint blue glow. “Is everything okay?"

Professor Membrane tilted his head slightly, "I was actually about to ask the same question. I wasn’t able to ask before you left this morning, and wanted to be sure you didn't develop any issues through the night."

You blushed as you shook your head, still unused to the idea that he, or anyone else, worried about your wellbeing. "No, I'm… I'm good "

He didn't seem convinced as he tilted his head. "Are you sure? Headache? Double vision? Nausea? Photophobia?"

"Professor, I'm fine. I promise." You could see his shoulders slump slightly in relief, and then noticed how pale and frazzled he looked himself. "If anything, I'd say your the one looking a bit ill. Are you feeling okay?"

He glanced away, rubbing his neck, looking….guilty? "Er, I did not sleep the best."

You snorted at that, “Well, considering it was well past three am when we finally went to bed, I’m not that surprised. We could reschedule our plans later if you--"

"No, absolutely not." He interrupted, surprising you, and by the looks of it, himself as well. "I mean, there's no need for that, Mx. Nemo. I'll be fully rested and ready for this evening. As long as you are feeling up to it as well."

The bell rang, announcing that classes would soon begin. “I’ll be up to it, promise. But don’t push yourself too hard, okay?”

You could see the hints of a smile, as well as that decreasingly rare blush. "I'm positive. Not even another mass hallucination would stop me, Mx. Nemo. Have a good day and I'll see you this evening."

You smiled softly. "Alright, have a good night, Professor."

The call ended, and you finally became aware of the other teachers in the room. You half-expected it to be empty after the last bell, yet most of them were gawking at you. "What?"

"Are you dating Professor Membrane?" The art teacher hazard, one of the few you felt somewhat comfortable around.

"What?” you squawked, feeling your face burn with embarrassment. “No! We're just friends!"

"That’s not what it sounded like," someone teased, earning a few snorts and snide agreements. “Unless you’re talking about friends with benefits.”

"Oh good stars, that is not what happened!” You protested. “We are literally just friends!”

No one seemed convinced as they left the small breakroom to disperse into the chaotic halls, making you groan. You knew they liked to gossip as much as the students, meaning the whole school was going to think the worst by the end of the day.

You just prayed Zim and Dib never heard any of the outlandish rumors, else you would really be in trouble.

--+--

Boltzmann was sick and tired of you. It was bad enough that an adult believed in that 'special snowflake propaganda' but then you further aligned yourself with the students, and the oddballs and weirdos at that. But to hear the rumors of your ‘friendship’ Professor Membrane? Boltzmann felt sick as all he heard from his coworkers was gossip about you and the famous scientist, ranging from the innocent to the rather explicit.

If it was true-- and that was a huge if-- it was obvious you had somehow tricked or fooled him into thinking you were something you were not. He gagged just thinking how anyone could be attracted to you, and refused to believe that part of the stories were even remotely true

He was going to catch you in your lie. He was going to end this --end you-- once and for all. You had caused him far too much trouble.

After school he followed you on the public bus, and then to your apartment in one of the rundown parts of town. He felt unsafe as he watched people come and go, knowing exactly what kind of people lived in neighborhoods like this. People like you. People who tricked, lied, and stole to make their way through life. You weren't even probably meeting up with Professor Membrane! It was all just a trick to get people to respect you!

But then you exited the worn down apartment complex, dressed in something more casual than your teaching outfit, and Boltzmann sneered as you waved to a couple of your neighbors that were likely up to no good as they loitered around the stoop of the building.

He weaved in and out of the crowd as he followed you, hopping back on a bus headed towards your next destination. He kept his phone handy, ready to record evidence of your lies.

Except you led him to one of the newer downtown shops, simply named the Tea Room. It was hard for Boltzmann to remain unseen as you waited near the entrance, looking sketchy as you kept an eye out, but he managed to find a place behind one of the bus signs to watch.

Who were you actually meeting? What dirty little secrets did you have hidden up your sleeves?

So focused on you, he missed a familiar figure walk past him until you looked over and waved. Boltzmann froze, thinking he had been caught for a split second before realizing no, you wouldn't be so happy to see him. The realization came a second before he noticed the not-quite-metaphorical giant standing between you and him.

"I'm glad you didn’t have any trouble finding the place," Professor Membrane spoke as he approached you, leaving Boltzmann with his jaw nearly touching the ground.

"Of course not. Besides, I think Dib only reminded me a dozen times throughout the day," you laughed, looking happier than the science teacher had ever seen. "Everytime I turned around, there he was. Almost like he was trying to be ready for something. Well, him and Zim. I swear I had two extra shadows today between them."

"I should probably confess I asked Dib to keep an eye on you today for me," Professor Membrane confessed. “Though I probably should have expected him to be a bit… overly enthusiastic.”

It was really him. And he seemed to more than just acquaintances by the way his hand hovered near the small of your back as he ushered you into the small shop, your laugh chiming like the bell of the door. Boltzmann watched through the large windows with a muted sense of horror as you and the professor talked, seemingly at ease and familiar with one another while inspecting the shelves lined with different kinds of teas.

Okay. So back to his first thought-- you had obviously somehow tricked the leading scientist to believe you were something special. You probably roped those two brats as well, using his own son against him.

Fueled by rage (and maybe some jealousy), Boltzman gave up his cover and stormed into the tea shop, the soft bells clanging harshly as he threw open the door.

"Mr. Boltzmann?" You asked after a moment of silence fell over the little shop, confusion obvious on your face.

"You scheming, lying deceitful witch!" Boltzman sneered, pointing at you. "I knew you were trouble the first day when you tried to get us to use that silly title of yours!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" You snarled back, instantly on the defensive as you put your hands on your hips.

"Wait, is that Boltzmann the teacher Dib and Zim talk about?" Professor Membrane interrupted, looking down at you for an answer.

“Unfortunately,” you sighed as if Boltzmann was nothing more than a minor annoyance

No. He was going to catch you red handed and expose you as the fraud you were. Membrane wouldn’t be looking at you but him. "I don't know what stories she's told you," Boltzmann snarled, "but Miss Nemo is nothing more than a mediocre English teacher desperate for attention! She's always--"

"They." Professor Membrane interrupted, confusing Boltzmann for a moment. "And it's Mx. Nemo, not miss."

No. No no no. That couldn't be right! "You're kidding, right? She's obviously a woman, look at her!” He shouted as he gestured to you. “All this bullshit gender thing is just to get attention!"

Boltzmann had a moment of success as he watched your face turn red, though he wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or anger, but he didnt care. He caught you! You was going to expose you and get the attention--

"I thought you were the science teacher," Professor Membrane asked and he cheered for a second before realizing the scientist was still talking to him. "Surely you've studied biology past the high school level to understand the difference between sex and gender."

"I-I have, but there's not…" was he really going to argue? No, not with Professor Membrane, the man was the world’s leading genius. "But that's besides the point! She's not to be trusted! I've seen her hanging out with those troublemakers, and I know something fishy is up! There's no way Dib and Zim's parents are fine with them hanging around a grown woman all the time!"

You and Professor Membrane looked at each other, and Boltzmann felt ill. "You are aware Dib is my son," Professor Membrane stated slowly. "And I have been helping Mx. Nemo on their extracurricular projects. I have been very pleased with their influence over the boys, and think it is admirable that they have given so much time and effort into helping them. What I don't appreciate is your implication that Mx. Nemo had ulterior motives."

Boltzmann could only gape as he felt like everything was falling apart. This had gone wrong in so many ways. This was not how it was supposed to turn out! Professor Membrane was supposed to believe him, not you!

"I'm sorry, Professor," you spoke, turning towards him. "I know we planned on this just to be a time to destress and talk."

"No, no!" Boltzmann whined. "You-you can't actually be dating her! She's just-just one of those special little snowflakes! She's just an English teacher!"

"This isn't a date!" Both you and the professor defended, faces turning red. At least there was that.

"Why are you even here?" You shot back. "Isn't it enough I have to work with you and Meyer, now I have to put up with your phobic ass outside of work?! Can't you just leave us alone?"

"No! Because I don't trust people like you! You're obviously up to something! I don't know what it is, but I'll prove your not as good and innocent as you claim to be!" He may have lost this battle, but the war was far from over. He would uncover the truth and prove you were not what you seemed.

"I don't claim to be anything like that! I'm just trying to live my life, my truth, and help the kids that you decide aren't worth your time! You’re the only one claiming that I'm something I'm not!"

Boltzmann was about to point out you were trying to indoctrinate children with your so-called ‘truth’ when a large hand fell on his shoulder. Boltzman looked at the person that dared to touch him, but paled at the tall, muscular… woman? Man?

He wasn't sure, and too terrified to ask. "Sir, I'm going to need you to leave. You’re disturbing my guests."

"She started it!" Boltzmann tried to argue rather childishly despite knowing internally he had lost.

"No, sir. You did. Please leave before I notify the police."

--+--

"I can't believe him," you growled, covering your face in embarrassment after Boltzmann was escorted out by the owner of the teashop-- a tall burly transwoman the Professor had greeted as Madam Gappa.. Of all the things to happen today, that had not been one of the ones you had worried about. "I just, I'm so sorry, Professor. I know we've been looking forward to this, well at least I have been, and…"

"I refuse to let that ruin our meeting," he interrupted, his hand gripping your far shoulder reassuringly. "If anything, I believe we need this more. I know Madam Gappa has some blend to ease stress."

As if summoned by the mere mention, Madam Gappa appeared and smiled widely. "Only the best for my fellow tea lovers. I'll bring a nice selection if you want to take a seat in one of our rooms.”

You couldn't argue with that, not when the professor’s hand settled on the small of your back as he guided you towards the hallway that led to the sitting areas. It was so surprising how warm and large his hand was, easing the stress that had settled in your back without you noticing.

The back rooms were just like ones you had seen in television shows (okay, anime mainly.) Big enough for a central table, comfortable low couches and chairs surrounding. Some had their doors open, groups of friends laughing and chatting over a few steaming cups, while others had their frosted glass doors closed.

Once you reached a room and you were ushered in first, you expected that Professor Membrane would sit across from you. But no, he settled into the bench next to you, not necessarily crowding you but close enough you could feel his warmth.

He shifted to face you, and you turned even more as he cupped your face, studying your face intently.

And then suddenly a small pen light shined in your eyes, making you flinch from the suddenness. His grip only tightened slightly, just enough to keep you still. "I just want to check your neurological signs right quick."

"Professor," you sighed, but didn’t offer any other objections as he checked your eyes with his pen light, and had you follow his finger back and forth, up and down. Or when he carefully checked the puncture wound on your neck, trying to ignore the goosebumps caused by his hands gently touching the sensitive skin, brushing it almost tenderly as he peeled the bandage away

"Well, doctor, what's the prognosis?" You couldn't help the small tease in your tone afterwards. "Am I going to live?"

"Amazingly, I believe so," he murmured with all seriousness. "It's a scientific marvel. You are an outlier. Neurolinks are still theoretical because of the 90% mortality rate, and not one simulation has yet ended with success. I was concerned that a deficit would appear over time. Yet…here you are."

"You were really worried, huh?" You asked as you turned back around once he replaced the dressing on your neck.

"I spent most of the night making scenarios and courses of action. I was certain that at least one of them would occur, that I'm having difficulty accepting that they haven't happened."

You closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him. Maybe it was because you had a hard time accepting that one impulsive decision could have ruined your life, or maybe it was because you weren't used to others worrying so much about you, or the fact he apparently cared so much about you…

Or maybe you were already addicted to being close to him. Of not just being allowed to be affectionate with someone, but with him specifically.

"I'm fine, Professor. Really, I am," you muttered into his labcoat, about ready to pull away when he wrapped his arms around you after a moment of hesitation.

"I apologize if I've been a nuisance. It's just… I'm not usually wrong in my theories, though this time I am thankful I am."

"Oh, pardon me," Madam Gappa's voice cut through the moment, and you forced yourself to untangle from Professor Membrane. Madam Gappa had a bitten-back smile on her lips as she placed the tray she was carrying onto the table. "I handpicked a few of my relaxing blends, and labeled them for your convenience. Do you want me to close the door to provide you two with some privacy?"

"We're just friends," you and the professor defended at the same time, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt like his face was burning as well, or if he was simply annoyed by the assumption.

Either way, Madam Gappa wasn't swayed and winked an eye. "Of course, my dears. I could only imagine how the papers would react if the infamous Professor Membrane was caught in a relationship. My lips are sealed, don't you worry. I'll just close this door so you can resume your discussions in private."

The muscular woman closed the frosted glass door before you could protest anymore, which did not help the situation any. "I've forgotten how much the rest of society focuses on romantic and sexual relationships," Professor Membrane groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Me too," you sighed, trying hard not to acknowledge the prickly feeling in your chest at the apparent negative reaction. Being friends with him was more than you had ever imagined possible. And friendship could be such a rewarding relationship without romance or anything else.

Even if you were interested in that way towards him. You had read many of gossip columns and theories online about the Professor being a part of the Ace spectrum and it was certainly looking like they weren’t far off the mark.

And you would happily accept that as easily as he accepted you, and deal with your feelings on your own. You weren't going to be one of those cringy people hanging around hoping he would 'reward' you for your friendship.

"Let's share this tea," you suddenly changed the subject, upset by your own thoughts and feelings.

"Was that an attempt at a joke, Mx Nemo?"

"Er, maybe?” Stars, why did you even say that? Did this all really fluster you that much? “Though I think the kids call it spilling the tea? Or maybe it's lets get this bread? I-I really don't know where I was trying to go with that,” you finished with an embarrassed chuckle.

Thankfully, it just seemed to amuse the scientist. "It seems I'm not the only one capable of a poor joke."

You shot him a dark look, "Mixing up my lingo is far different than saying we're stuck on an elevator while our boys are missing."

"Er, I suppose you're right." He guiltily admitted, and any bragging on your part was lost as he unzipped the first few inches of his lab coat, exposing his face to sip at the cup of tea.

You hadn't realized you had been staring until he cleared his throat, moving his hand in your field of vision to catch your attention. "Mx Nemo? Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes! Yes! Absolutely fine! Oh stars, I'm so sorry about that!!" You turned to your own cup, gulping it down without tasting it as you avoided looking at him.

But you could still see it. The firm jawline, the dusky colored lips. The dark stubble.

The scars.

You had shared meals with him, and he had so carefully avoided revealing his lower face. You needed to respect him and not make a big deal of it…

But the chance to see him. Your gaze kept drifting to him despite your best attempt to act nonchalant, and eventually Professor Membrane noticed. He winced, and you could see his lips twist into a frown. "Oh, right. Sorry, I hope I haven't ruined your appetite, I've been told they're quite off putting.

Wait, "What? No! No no no," you reached out as he went to cover his face, halting his actions as you grabbed his hands. "That's not it! I wasn't staring at your scars, it's more the fact that I've never seen your face before! I was just surprised! I promise, they're not off putting or whatever! You're undeniably handsome with or without them! Their not-their not bad…"

You were full on rambling, and finished weakly, far too aware of the blush on his cheeks. As well as the blush on your own, and how your hands were holding his. You quickly let go and stuffed your hands underneath your legs out of habit to keep them to yourself.

It was so odd and fascinating to be able to see his expression so openly, even with his goggles still covering his eyes. The faint blush on his cheeks, the faint frown on his lips as he tried to process your words.

And seeing him talk. Why was it so captivating simply watching his lips move? "Er, well, thank you. Though, you don't need to 'sugar coat' on my behalf. Humans as a species instinctively shy away from others who show signs of damage, even though our culture and society have grown far past things, our primate minds still recoil at such things."

"To accept that is to accept the whole gender is defined by one's sexual chromosomes' argument," you argued. "As you said, that's our 'primitive' parts. We should be able to easily move past such things in our day and age. You're handsome and deserve to be told so. Not despite your scars or because of them, their just simply part of you as much as your eyes or hair."

His expression shifted from calm to surprised, to rather flustered as his cheeks turned pink. "Oh, hm. I believe I can understand your earlier sentiments of appreciation more. Fascinating."

You smiled and nudged him lightly. "Validation feels nice. Though I am upset that people have led you to cover your face. Granted, things would be a little more difficult for you with that handsome mug of yours."

Aaaand you said that. Outloud. Thankfully(?) he took it as a joke and chuckled as he returned his focus to his tea. "Well, it's not the only reason. This fabric is specially designed to filter air, both any pollution in the environment, as well as preventing any unintended contaminants from ruining an experiment. It also has aided in decreasing my typical allergies as well as infections."

You barely understood half of what he said as he delved into more details, but enjoyed listening as well as watching him. You were once again struck by the similarities between him and his son.

But what really made you grin was the few times he caught you staring, your tea forgotten, and you could watch him blush as he took a sip of his tea. As embarrassing as getting caught was, it was worth being able to see him emote like anyone else.

Then he had to turn the tables on you, asking questions about your own job and life. Which, yes, this was a…a get together to get to know each other outside of Dib and Zim, but you still felt awkward as you glossed over the less than terrific parts of your life (aka, most of it) and focused on your highlights such as teaching, your love of literature and language that led you to become an English teacher.��

You had seen your earlier interest mirrored in his own expression, cursing how he really had turned the tables on you. But you weren't as interesting as him, you never found a solution to world hunger, cured the common cold, or found a comprehensive screen for cancer with a poke of the finger. You were just… you. Completely ordinary and unspecial.

Yet he looked at you as if your were one of the most fascinating things he had seen.

Your ramblings came to a slow death, and silence settled briefly as you enjoyed the tea (it really was exceptional, far better than the instant tea powder or the cheap bags you bought at the store.)

"If you don't mind me asking," Professor Membrane broke the silence after a moment. "They boys said you were helping with a project, but never explained what kind of project exactly involved human trials with a neuro link."

Ah. Right. You supposed you should have expected that question. "Well, uh, it's complicated."

He only tilted their head. "How so?"

All day you had tried to think of a rational answer, and couldn’t think of anything. So… you were going to tell the truth. Or at least a little bit of it. It still set your nerves on edge. "Er, well, how much do you know about Zim's family?"

It felt so strange to see him visibly perplexed., "Uh, I suppose I haven't met his parents?"

You took a deep breath, part of you felt guilty sharing Zims secret, at least part of it. But at the same time, it was a relief. "That's because his parents…" he didn't have parents. He was an alien invader created in a lab. "His parents left him a long time ago," you bit out, fighting off a headache and didn't even think as you continued. "Kinda like mine. And well, Boltzman was looking into it and I didn't want him to end up in the system like I did."

Membrane was silent, scarred lips twisted into a frown. And it was then, with the headache fading, you realized what you said, and the very real probability that he did not feel the same way about the system as you.

Oh god. What if he reported Zim himself? Turned you in for child endangerment or something?

"I mean, I'm probably biased, but I don't think the foster system would be a good place for some," defective alien invader "child like Zim with… special needs."

"I see…" he trailed off, still frowning and clearly lost in thought. "That is rather…informative."

"I'm taking care of him," you continued, fear grasping your heart as panic started to bubble. And with it, your ability to control your words quickly deteriorated. "I've been in his shoes, so I think-I think I can handle it. We can handle it, the boys and I, we just needed some info for his parent drones and it was going to take so long to answer the function and this was a faster way. I just want to protect him from enduring the same hell I went through being passed from house to house, the difficulties of changing schools, always wondering when you were going to move again. I mean, he already has a hard time with social situations and--"

Membrane interrupted your panicked ramblings, his tone soft and firm. "Breathe, Mx. Nemo."

You couldn't. Those memories and emotions you tried to repress started bubbling up. Worse, the thought of Zim enduring the same things while you were to blame, all because you stuck your nose where it didn't belong. Your breaths soon came out as gasping wheezes, tears stinging your eyes.

Your brain felt like it was on fire as that little voice kept whispering in your ear that Zim wasn't a human child, but an extraterrestrial invader. That what awaited him was far worse than what you endured, and it was still all your fault. Capture, imprisonment. Dissection.

"Mx Nemo, breathe. Nothing is going to happen to Zim." His hands clasped your shoulders, firm and reassuring, helping you to ground yourself. He instructed you to breathe in and out, slowly and calmly, all the while holding your gaze.

The tension slowly lessened, though refused stubbornly to disappear completely. But at least you could breathe. Think. "Sorry," you automatically apologized. "I'm sorry. I just…I just…" didn't want Zim to suffer as you did. Even if he wasn't a human child, you still felt protective of him.

"I've seen panic attacks before in many coworkers, and there is nothing to apologize for," he reassured. "But, did these occur before the incident, or…?"

"It's been a while since I had one like that, but they happen," you explained distractedly. "I just…I'm so worried. I know what I'm doing isn't strictly legal, but…I think it's the right thing."

Professor Membrane hummed thoughtfully, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "While I am hesitant to trust your judgment regarding safety of experiments," he said, and you realized he was attempting to joke. "I do trust you in this. Zim is indeed a very rare child, and I believe it's unfortunately been proven that our public systems are not suited to accommodate those with special needs."

It was like the clamp around your chest was suddenly released. You leaned into his grip, taking a slow deep breath. "And you don't need to do this alone," he continued softly. "I will assist if you need."

#invader zim #professor membrane #dib membrane #enter the florpus #invaderzim #catching flies #invader zim zadf #professor membrane x reader #invader zim fic #catching flies fic

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invadernurse · 1 year ago

Text

Catching Flies (Revised) Ch. 19

Chapter 19: A Knife to the (Brain)

Overall rating: Teen

Summary: You catch more flies with honey than vinegar. That’s what they say anyway.

Afab Non-binary Reader;

The reader does have a last name: Nemo– which means no-name.

Chapter One |Master post |Ao3

There were four levels of priority calls that Professor Membrane had taught his children as well as programmed into their phones. Priority Three were more like quick messages that needed to be shared but didn’t require a response if he was busy. Such as when Gaz’s favorite series announced a sequel, or when Dib had a Swollen Eyeball meeting and would be late for dinner.

Priority Two were things he would need to address but not urgently. So a small reminder would notify him as soon as he was no longer busy with an urgent matter. Such as Gaz wanting a forward on her allowance for some DLC, or Dib needing another permission slip signed to attend a paranormal conference.

Priority One was for non-life-threatening emergencies and would call through unless he was in something critical. Like settling fights between his children or talking to teachers or whomever else to avoid a lawsuit because his children were anything but typical.

Priority Zero was for life-threatening issues only and had only been used twice since their invention. These calls would go through even if the Professor was literally inside a fission reactor, on a time crunch to fix a fault before it went into catastrophic failure.

Thankfully, that was not the case this time. He was merely enjoying a cup of Earl Grey as he allowed his mind to rest after work. Between the emotional confusion you put him through and the stress of his career, he had found himself needing to take a calming moment to straighten his thoughts as well as his priorities before he began on his ‘home projects.’

But the blaring alert startled him out of his meditative state, causing his heart rate to skyrocket as the holo screen flared to life, not even waiting for him to accept the call.

“Dad!” Dib appeared, his eyes wide with panic. “I don’t know what Zim did, but Mx. Nemo is unconscious. There’s a hole the back of their neck and I think they’re leaking that cerebral fluid stuff and I don’t know what to do and neither does Zim and--“

“This never happened before!” Zim interjected, sounding defensive, but he could see the fear in the boy's expression, as well as his hair in massive disarray (a part looking like it was antenna pointed downwards, but surely it was just hair at an odd angle) and eyes bloodshot. (He’s never seen eyes so bloodshot they lost their iris and pupil, but the boy had a lot of health issues.) “Previous test subjects would pass out when the computer detached, but would wake up within seconds!”

None of their words made much sense to the Professor, but he understood enough to figure out you were injured in some way. He stood and made his way for the first aid kit underneath the kitchen sink out of habit. The one prepped for anything from a paper cut to loss of a limb or radiation sickness. "Calm down and tell me what happened."

--+--

Professor Membrane met the boys at the front of Zim’s home, where they had you secured to a hovering stretcher. He didn’t pause to wonder how or why Zim happened to have a hover stretcher at his home, he was far more focused on you. pale, sweating, mumbling, and completely delirious as you struggled against the straps that secured you. He forced himself to hold your thrashing head still long enough to inspect the bandage on your neck, and felt ill at the Halo sign that stained it.

Panic was something very rare for Professor Membrane to experience. Yet right now it threatened to overwhelm him. A Neural Spike. The boys essentially shoved an electrometer straight into your neurological system, via your brainstem. The part that controlled the most basic of functions.

Membrane Labs had been working on Neural Spikes, but they were strictly theoretical at the moment. Every simulation they ran ended poorly, ranging from paralysis to death. And these children thought they could do better?!

No. He pushed those thoughts out of his mind as they loaded the stretcher into his car before rushing down the few streets to the Membrane home, torn between focusing on your vitals and driving.

“Wouldn’t it be better for them to be in a hospital?” Zim asked as he and Dib sat on either side of you in the back.

“Typically, yes,” Professor Membrane admitted, gripping the steering wheel tight. “However, I highly doubt their physicians have encountered this kind of situation before. Nor would they have the experience needed to properly treat them."

“And you do?” His son asked, doubt coloring his voice.

If it wasn’t for the failsafes engineered into his prosthetics, his grip would have completely crushed the steering wheel. “Well, not first-hand experience, but I have more theoretical knowledge of the situation and the various complications that may arise. Which means I’m the most qualified. Thankfully my lab has the proper equipment to keep them stable while I assess the situation and formulate a plan.”

What he didn’t want to admit to them --as well as himself-- was that he didn’t feel qualified or as confident as he usually did. He felt overwhelmed, his mind racing and a sense of dread weighing heavily in his stomach. He felt ill and on the verge of panic. He wasn’t used to uncertainty or fear. He wasn’t used to his emotions coloring his thought process and the apprehension only made it worse.

Things didn’t get any better once they reached the Membrane home and you were transferred onto the small medical table to allow his instruments to do their work. His feelings actually intensified once he instructed the children to stay upstairs, leaving him alone with you. He was sure if he didn’t have stabilizing protocols programmed into his prosthetic arms, his hands would be shaking uncontrollably.

His body was on autopilot as he started the machines and scanners, his mind running through the potential outcomes. You may not be dead (yet) but there was a strong possibility that you would never wake and remain comatose. Or you could semi-wake into a permeative vegetative state. Or wake with amnesia. Changed personality. Aphasia or some other type of neurological disorder.

Or you could be left with some kind of physical disability, though that was probably the least concerning at this point. Those were outcomes that he and his team could easily deal with. As long as you were mentally okay. As long as you were still you. That is what he truly worried about.

But really, he would take whatever outcome as long as it meant you remained in his life, in the boys’ life. It seemed irrational that he was so emotionally invested in your wellbeing when he had only known you for less than half a year, but you had made such a positive impact in all of their lives in such a short time. For you to be ripped from them so suddenly… For him never to see you smile again, listen to your voice, your laugh. The way he could see your emotions so clearly on your face, the compassion and care you held.

He pressed a hand to your forehead, less to allow his sensors to measure your vitals, and more of an instinctive action to reassure himself. He could do this. You would pull through. He would see your eyes open once more. Maybe even feel your hand in his.

You would pull through. It made him ill to imagine otherwise.

--+--

When you came too, bright lights shined down from above, nearly blinding you.

“What the hell?” You groaned, covering your eyes from the light. You tried to sit up, but barely moved an inch before falling back on the bed. Table? Whatever it was, it was not your bed. Even it was more comfortable then whatever you were laying on.

“I would recommend not moving,” Professor Membrane’s voice stated coldly from somewhere nearby. “I’m still reviewing your neurological system for any abnormalities.”

“Uh…” Your hand was frozen mid-movement to shield your eyes from the bright lights. Your memory was finally waking up with the rest of your body (which hurt like hell) and you could recall helping Zim and Dib. Volunteering to allow Zim’s computer to ‘read your memories’ and then…

Pain. Confusion. Feeling very, very ill. “Am I going to be okay?”

“My preliminary reports indicate you should,” the professor sighed from somewhere out of your line of sight. “Thankfully. And despite whatever insanity compelled you to allow two middle school children to conduct a highly theoretical experimentation of hijacking your nervous system via a spike to your brainstem.“

Ok, he was… he was definitely upset. And when worded like that, you could see why. In retrospect, that had not been one of your brightest ideas. You swallowed carefully, hoping it wouldn’t interfere with whatever tests he was doing before quietly adding on: “I’m sorry….” Sorry you agree to something that in hindsight was a stupid idea. Sorry for apparently worrying him. Sorry for being such a bother.

“I assume the only reason you agreed to such a thing was because you didn’t understand the potential consequences.” His voice returned to that initial coldness that was not at all the Professor Membrane you were used to.

“Well, Zim said it might hurt, but that was likely the worst of it.” Though now you wondered if he even knew what it was like being hooked up to the thing. To have your brain and mind scanned by a computer. He was Irken, the pak knew all his thoughts, controlled him completely, was him.

You fought back a wince from the sharp pain that thankfully faded as quickly as it came. Still, the thought, the idea, lingered and occupied your thoughts during the long, heavy silence before Professor Membrane sighed. “You can move now.”

You let your hand drop to the side of the table and looked over at him. He moved away from the computer on the other side of the lab and walked up to where you laid. The glare of the lights off his goggles prevented you from seeing his eyes as he looked down at you, making you feel even smaller.

This must be what a lab rat felt like.

“‘Might hurt’ isn’t even a broad oversimplification appropriate for this situation,” he started, his hands clenched into fists at his side. “In fact, that would have been the most pleasant consequence if something had gone wrong. Previous simulations have included partial to complete paralysis, permanent loss of bowel and bladder function, detachment of consciousness, several varying degrees of mental disabilities--”

“Hey,” you interrupted between breaths as he tried to list everything. You reached over to grab his hand, and was disappointed to find that took a large chunk out of your energy. Still, you offered a smile as he looked down at you. “I don’t have any of those. See, I can even wiggle my toes.”

He glanced down at your toes, which wiggled freely. You even rolled your ankles to prove your point, causing him to sigh as he looked back towards your face. “I’ve had the unfortunate experience of having colleagues suffer for science, but they often fully understood the risks. But you…” he squeezed your hand tightly, his coldness evaporating and replaced with a pained tone. “Those boys should have known better.”

“They’re kids. They didn’t know better.” Despite feeling like your body was cut from lead and weighed ten times more than it should, you forced yourself to sit up. Professor Membrane automatically reached to steady you as you swayed on the edge of the table, gripping your shoulders tightly.

“They should have. You should have. If something had gone wrong, if you had been seriously injured…”

Later, you would blame the lightheaded-dizzy feeling for the fact that you reached up and cupped his face with both hands through his lab coat’s collar. You weren’t quite prepared to actually feel the shape of his face beneath the heavy fabric. Logically, you knew it was there; knew that his face wasn’t some vague, shapeless form hidden from view. But now you could feel the firmness of his jaw and the soft give of his cheeks. Your tactile sense happily trying to supply your brain with enough information to imagine what was beneath.

There was a face there, strong and masculine from the way it felt.

Focus, you mentally scolded yourself after a moment had passed. Sure, he hadn’t said or moved an inch, but you were probably massively weirding him out.

“Everything’s fine, so you don’t need to worry about that,” you continued, hoping he’d be reassured and not more freaked out. Yet just as you began to pull away, his hands grasped yours, making you pause. You expected him to pull your hands away, but instead he laced his fingers with yours, squeezing tight.

His head lowered, his forehead pressing against yours and the collar of his lab coat tickling your nose as his goggles pressed into you. Your heart hammered in your chest as you felt the subtle warmth of his skin pressed against his, his breath ghosting across your face as it escaped the confines of his lab coat.

“I can’t understand it,” he muttered softly.

“What’s that?” you whispered, not wanting to break whatever this moment was. Dare you admit to yourself how tender and intimate it felt?

“These feelings. These emotions. I tried to ignore them, to not allow them to interfere with our relationship, but controlling them is far more difficult than I anticipated.”

No. No no no. There was no way, no way that Professor Membrane would have feelings. For you.

Yet what else could he be talking about?

No. You had to be imagining things. “You’re allowed to be upset with us,” you said, hoping maybe that was what he was talking about. “In retrospect, what we did was idiotic. And dangerous. So it would only be natural? I mean, Dib is your son, and we’re friends, I think, so…”

You trailed off as he hummed thoughtfully, “Friends… maybe I’m simply unfamiliar with non-professional relations and that is what’s causing this confusion.”

You were pretty sure he was talking to himself, but couldn’t help but nudge his nose slightly with yours, catching his gaze. His eyes were a dark amber, both pleading and full of confusion. As if you held the answer he was looking for, and he needed to know. It made your tongue feel thick and your chest tight. “Well, if so, we’re in this together. I don’t exactly have a ton of friends myself, so we’re both kinda new to this, I guess.”

If possible, he sunk against you a little more, squeezing your hands tightly and filling you with warmth. “I cherish our friendship, Mx. Nemo. So please, don’t do something so idiotic again.”

“Yes sir,” you said, sure this was a dream. Much more realistic and less, uh, mature than others. But to have this kind of closeness with him… it had to be a dream. “No more experiments, I promise.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far to refute any further experimentation,” he added with both a tone of skepticism and humor. “Just none that involves a metal rod into your brainstem.”

“Okay, yeah,” you finally smiled. “I can definitely promise that.”

--+--

It took another hour before Professor Membrane finally conceded on letting you stand and leave the lab. Both Dib and Zim were sitting at the kitchen table, looking rather morose and anxious until you stepped out from behind Professor Membrane.

“Hey boyos,” you greeted as they instantly perked up.

“Mx. Nemo!”

Both instantly plowed into you, wrapping their arms around you tightly and knocking you back a few steps into Professor Membrane behind you. You barely registered his hands on your shoulders to keep you steady and were more focused on the boys’ futility trying to hide their crying as you wrapped your arms around them. “Hey, woah. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

You rubbed their backs as best you could, and after a long moment they reluctantly let go, both sets of eyes proving they had indeed been crying.

Proving that Zim was faulty because Irken Invaders didn’t cry. They felt nothing for no one-

You bit back a hiss at the sudden influx of sharp pain at the base of your skull. The only reason you didn’t stumble to your knees was the Professor’s firm grip on your shoulders, keeping you stable before the pain disappeared as quick as it came.

“Perhaps you should sit,” he offered, voice colored with concern as you regained your balance. “It’s quite likely you will experience adverse effects from your incident, so it is best to take it easy in the interim.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted as you purposely stepped away, proving you could stand on your own without issues. You did wobble, but just a little. “Just a little headache, that’s all.”

While your words were meant more for the professor, Zim latched on to them as he glared at Dib. “See! I told you they’d be fine!”

“They are not fine!” Dib shot back with a snarl. “They’ve been out for hours! And you heard dad, Mx. Nemo could still experience issues because of your stupid machine!”

“I agree,” Professor Membrane added, sounding firm once more like he had in the lab. “Just because everything is stable now doesn’t mean that something disastrous--“

“I am fine!” You interrupted, giving him a pointed look. You didn’t want the boys to feel any worse than they already did. That, and you didn’t want to think about what could have happened, ordwell any more on the fact you had massively messed up this time.

You all had learned a lesson, and that was sufficient. Right?

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to agree as he crossed his arms. “Just because no serious complications are currently apparent doesn’t mean that you are completely unharmed. The insertion site in your neck is still prone to infection, and other issues--“

“Yes, yes, yes,” you huffed, crossing your own arms. “But you don’t need to go over all of that in front of the children.”

“They need to understand that their actions have serious repercussions,” he argued. “They could have killed you, or worse. If they are going to conduct such experiments, they need to realize the responsibility that comes alongside cutting-edge science and human experimentation. This time, you three were extremely lucky. It’s more than possible that in the next experiment with such risks you won’t be so fortunate.”

Silence hung heavily over the kitchen at his words. And you had to admit, if the boys were doing ‘experiments’ involving life or death, they needed to know the risks, but you felt like he could be a little gentler about it.

Or maybe that was your own ego protesting.

Besides, Zim was no boy. He was an Irken invader who had killed more than you could know. Whole planets gone in a blink because of Zim. He was no child; he was--

“I thought luck wasn’t very ‘scientific’,” Gaz commented from the table, where she had apparently been sitting the entire conversation, engrossed in her game.

“Wishing isn’t scientific,” the professor pointed out. “Unfortunately, sometimes when facing variable outcomes, luck is indeed a component. Or rather, luck is a simplistic term for the randomness of quantum variables that make it impossible to correctly calculate all factors to arrive at a predicted outcome.”

You blinked trying to understand his words. "Dad, just say luck is real," Gaz sighed, looking up from her game with a deadpan expression. "So what, now that Mx. Nemo's okay, everything can calm down?"

#invader zim #professor membrane #enter the florpus #dib membrane #invaderzim #catching flies #invader zim zadf #professor membrane x reader #catching flies fic #invader zim fic

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