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November 8, 2012
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I laid in bed, feeling worse and worse. . . Why had I fallen sick? Why am I feeling ill? Where is he?
My head hurt badly, and my stomach groaned with pain. . . Worse of all, the back of my throat burned, making me rasp and cough.
I had a lot of coughing fits, and it made my stomach hurt worse with each sickening purge that came after the coughs.
I covered my head with my pillow around ten o’ clock to sleep, and succeeded after what seemed like a lifetime. . .
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I woke drenched in sweat, yet I felt so cold. . . So alone. . .
I couched into my hand, violently. I felt something warm and stick splatter onto my fist, and I opened my eyes worriedly. Upon examining my hand, I had found something I greatly feared. . . I had coughed up blood. . .
Suddenly a memory came back to me, one I had forgotten because of Zim, and his machine. I was a clone, created by my fath- Professor Membrane. . . I was unstable, unfit to live in my own body. . . I was his first failure. . .
I clenched my stomach in pain, it wasn’t a dream, it was all real. . . I had not imagined the wrong that I had done. . . I had not imagined Zim speaking so sweetly to me. . .
Zim, I need him, I need to hear his voice, now!
I snatched my phone from the nightstand and dialed in the all too familiar number.
“Heeeeeeeelllllllllllllloooooooooooo?” Said the small voice of GIR, on the other side.
“GIR get Zim, I need to talk to him! Tell him it’s urgent!” I instructed the robot.
“OKIE DOKIE!” GIR cheered as apparently he dropped the phone. . .
Finally after a long moment, Zim picked it up and spoke loudly, “Yes, hello?”
“Zim! Thank God!” I exclaimed, hurting my throat.
“What do you want Dib-stick? Zim is really busy doing his own stuff, all so busy!” Zim said, I could tell he was slightly irritated.
“I-I’m sick. . .” I started carefully, trying to make sure he remained on the other line.
“Isn’t that a human thing? Does your degusting species always gets sick?” Zim sighed, I could tell he was about to hang up.
“I’m coughing up blood. . .” I finished, rubbing my throat with my free hand.
There was a long silence, and I was afraid he had hung up. . . Suddenly however I heard his voice, “I’ll be right over.” Then there was a click, as he must’ve hung up.
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I fell asleep waiting for Zim, and when I woke again I was in his house on the couch, covered up. I sat up slowly, still having the pain in my throat and abdomen.
Zim walked in, and growled, “Lay back down!”
I did as instructed and looked at him, “You do care?”
“Of course Zim does. . .” Zim sighed as he knelt on the floor in front of my face.
He had an expression that I couldn’t read. . . I could tell he was slightly flustered, but something else was there, something I did not understand. . .
He placed an ungloved hand on my forehead, and pressed his face to it, “Your real warm. . . How did you get so sick?”
“I-I don’t know. . .” I answered honestly, “I was searching for you, then I-I felt real bad, so I went home. . .”
Zim nodded and continued to examine me, then he finally sighed and leaned back, “I’ve only seen one case like this, and-” He trailed off.
“And?” I wished for him to continue.
“And, the person who had it was sick for a long pain filled time. . .” Zim sighed, as he placed his hand on my forehead again.
The cool dampness from his ungloved hand, made me feel a little better, “Your hand feels nice. . .” I said involuntarily.
Zim smiled and placed his other on my cheek, “Do you regain any of your memory?”
I nodded, “Yeah. . . I- I don’t know what to think. . .” I sighed, still loving the feeling of Zim’s hands.
Zim’s lekku came forward, and he stared at me, “Well don’t worry about it. Your Dib and that will never change. No matter how Dib came to be Dib.” He had a stubborn look on his face.
I laughed lightly, and reached up curiously, grabbing one of the appendages. Zim stiffened, as I touched it, and when I began to stroke, he leaned forward and began to purr softly.
I smiled, and continued my strokes, from stock to end. . . “D-Dib, p-please s-stop. . .” Zim purred.
“Why do you want me to? You seem to be enjoying yourself.” I said stubbornly, amazed by his reaction.
Zim purred loudly, “I-it’s indecent. . .”
I smiled, but pulled back to cough. I couched violently into my hand and pulled away from Zim, who sat up almost instantly, “Are you okay?” He asked worriedly.
I felt my blood come onto my hand, then I pulled it away, “We can only hope. . .” I sighed.
 
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