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Sublime Awakenings	By : Kailean Category: Comics > Squee! Views: 1478 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Squee!, JTHM, or Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from these works. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 43
- 44
- 45
Sublime Awakenings: Chapter 44

The worst thing about Catholic funerals, Todd decided, in this particular instance at least, was that they contained a Mass. Funeral Masses, like all Masses, were open to the public, and the public, at the moment, were more interested in him than he would like. So far, he had shaken hands with more people than all of the previous such greetings in his entire life added together. He had even, very reluctantly, signed a few news papers featuring the event that had lead to the funeral.

Luckily, now, at the internment of the urns, which contained random ashes from the site of the incident, most of the extras were keeping a respectful distance. That might have been Mr. Diablo's doing, but Todd doubted that his powers worked on holy ground. It was more likely Nny's hateful, somewhat psychotic scowl, as he hung toward the outer semicircle of mourners, that kept the hoards of onlookers at bay.

To be honest, he had been extremely shocked that Nny, Elize and the Devil had showed up at his parent's funeral at all, even if it was just for the burial. And it had been almost as surprising when Mrs. Diablo and Pepito had been at the Mass itself. Then again, all Todd had felt upon entering the church with the key around his neck was a very slight tingling sensation.

Letta's elbow nudged him out of his contemplation, and he turned to face her as he rubbed his ribs. He had to lean closer so she could whisper in his ear.

The young woman gestured to the Priest, Father Ted Crilly, who was busy saying a typical prayer, urging those present to have faith that the bodies of the deceased would be resurrected in the final days and to pray for those in Purgatory. “Todd, I want to be cremated. And you have to spread the ashes. No burial.”

Todd rolled his eyes, pulling away from the girl before they attracted attention. The zombie nightmare was apparently still affecting her, not that that wasn't understandable.

She pulled him back a little roughly by the arm and continued in a loud whisper. “You have to promise!”

“Fine, I promise! But you know that wasn't real.” He matched her tone, pulling away again as they both received a warning look from Brian and a glare from Gaz, whose game play they were probably interrupting.

The prayer finally came to an end, and Father Ted, a gray-haired forty-something, who did, in fact, have an Irish accent, addressed the crowd. “Well now, would anyone here like to say a final goodbye or make a speech of some kind?”

Todd could practically feel everyone looking at him, though most of them were behind him, but he simply shook his head in the negative. The best thing about Catholic funerals, again in this instance, was that they didn't permit eulogies. Such things were allowed only after the Church's ceremony and weren't obligatory as they were in many other religious traditions.

In Todd's case, this was a relief because there was no way that he was saying one. It wasn't that he didn't feel sorry for his parents at all, but he didn't really know them, so he couldn't really miss them. He could only miss the idea of having parents, and he had been missing that for a while. Besides, if they didn't earn respect in life, then they didn't deserve it in death.

Pepito stood a few yards away, between his Mother and Father, where he had been staring at Todd instead of the Priest for the past fifteen minutes. He looked so stoic, so unmoved. If his own parents had been in those urns, though only one of them could die, he would have been a sobbing mess at best. But, he knew that the man who was possibly in the vase had never been a father to Todd, just as the woman had never been a mother. The boy was a perpetual orphan.

When the main Priest stepped away from the storage unit, and the remains that symbolized Todd's parents where safely locked inside, the group drifted away from it as well, choosing instead to congregate in the small park that was adjacent to the cemetery. Pepito followed, walking fast to catch up with Todd as his parents disappeared with Brian and the child that was staying with him to gather ingredients for a picnic.

Hearing the footsteps of the Antichrist, Todd slowed his pace at the entrance to the park, knowing that he was going to have to face him again soon enough anyway. “Hey, Pepito.”

“Hello, Todd.” Pepito matched the other's pace, walking at his side as the other guests gave them fleeting looks, but kept heading for the tables. “I tried calling you. About twenty times actually.” His voice sounded a little grudging, even to himself. Instantly, he tacked on a softer “Are you alright?”

“I know.” Todd studied his feet for a moment, watching dried grass turn into sandy ground as guilt threatened to make him blush. “I'm sorry. I'm fine. I just...I felt weird for a while. It wasn't anything personal. I didn't mean to offend you or anything.”

“I wasn't offended, just worried and....are you sure we're okay?” The half-demon met Todd's eyes in surprise when the boy suddenly grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the tables and to a large tree beside a chain-linked fence.

Todd sent the other a small smile. “They'll come get us when it's ready.” He took a seat on the side of the tree that faced away from the wooden gazebo that the lunch was going to take place inside.

Sitting opposite the other boy, Pepito crossed his legs in an Indian style position, hoping that his Mother wouldn't be too upset if his suit was dirtied.

Reaching into his shirt, Todd pulled out the necklace, letting the key rest against the white clothe that lay behind the black jacket that was terribly uncomfortable this time of year...like everything else where they happened to live. Pepito hadn't called it an 'infernal inferno' for no reason all that time ago, especially after having lived in New York. “I, umm, seem to have forgotten to give this back. And I have no idea how to get it off.”

Pepito felt his face fall a little as everything that his father had told him the night before was replayed in his mind once again. He couldn't tell Todd what he'd learned, but the key probably wasn't going to let go until its fate was known. He forced an uneven smile. “Why don't you just hang onto it for a while?”

“But don't you need to keep it? Didn't you say that it was really important to the Administration when you gave it to me?”

“Er, yeah, but remember when I said that you would be the only one who could take it off? You might still need its protection, and your subconscious probably won't let you until it believes that you're safe. Bitters is gone, but, based on what Father saw on the All Seeing Eye when you were in her base, her race is still out there, probably still planning to go through with whatever it is they're up to. And that kid...Leon? Shmee is still inside of him, right? That could be dangerous.”

“I...guess.” Pepito was probably right about Bitters' people, but he really wasn't sure about Leon. The truth was that he hadn't spent much time with the kid. He wasn't lying when he said that he really had wanted to be alone, completely alone, and that not talking to Pepito wasn't personal. But, if he was trying to avoid people who were likely to notice spiritual changes, and lack of armor, then the Antichrist would be at the top of that list.

“So you'll keep it?” The half-demon shuffled closer. “I talked to Father, and he agreed that it would be best for now, so we won't get in any trouble. And as long as you can't get it off, you can't loose it.”

Looking down at the key again, Todd suppressed a paranoid worry that something might be horribly wrong, that it might never come off. “Sure. But...it won't be for too long, will it? I think people might start to wonder eventually.”

Pepito let out a relieved sigh, but still felt bad for lying to Todd. He felt like he was breaking his promise from only a few nights ago, like he had already broken it when he had put the key around the other's neck. He was also reminded sickeningly of the way that his father had lied to his mother in the beginning of their relationship. “You'd be surprised, Amigo. Not many people question the lock, and when they do I just tell them that it's a family heirloom. Heh. You could probably get away with telling most people that it was a house key or something. But, don't worry, it shouldn't be too long.”

Nodding reluctantly, Todd tucked the shiny sliver back under his shirt before resting his elbow on a raised knee and the corner of his jaw on a fist. “So, what were you calling about all those times?” He smiled apologetically, though a dash of humor managed to squirm its way in as well. If there was one thing that Pepito had always been, it was persistent.

“Oh, you know, just to make sure you were alright...and...”

“And?”

The Antichrist took a deep breath, feeling his cheeks heat up some as he quickly ran through the long and sentimental speech that he had been mentally practicing for over a week, selecting the most important parts. “And I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry...really sorry. I realize now that, even though I didn't want to take advantage of you during your time of hardship, that...well, I did. I shouldn't have sprung all of my issues on you like that. It was just...when I thought you were going to die, I...I was so afraid, but then you were still in peril...” Trailing off, he frowned when it was apparent that the elegance was mostly lost somewhere between his mind and his mouth.

“Pep, it's okay. I mean, that was a lot to handle all at once, but it's not like you demanded a decision or anything, or...” Then Todd did blush, full on, at the memory of kissing the other boy, “or made me do any of it. I know you were upset too.”

“So...I have your forgiveness? We're still friends?” He hated the near desperate tone of his own voice, but in a way that question had been cycling through his mind, unanswered, for years. Yes, Todd and he had technically been good friends for quite some time now, but that friendship was not one of full disclosure. During that time Pepito had hidden things, sometimes even lied about things, that the other might react poorly to. It was ironic that Todd was the one person that he had never wanted to lie to, both then and now.

“There's really not much to forgive. Besides, I think that's only fair, considering all the horrible stuff you've forgiven me for.” The boy sent him a another smile, this one more playful. “I really don't know why you put up with me.”

“Don't say that, Squee. I, anyone, would be lucky to have you as a friend. You're a good person, even though I don't think you realize it. You're what a human being should be, but very rarely is. I-I also wanted to make sure that you know that I would never try to take that away from you. I do think that you worry too much, and that you feel bad for things that aren't your fault and that people sometimes deserve, but I don't want to take away your compassion. I don't want to take away who you are. I love who you are.”

For a moment Pepito's last sentence kept Todd speechless. His insides felt bubbly and intoxicated like freshly uncorked champaign. He had to bite his lip, making a conscious effort to control his smile, which felt like it wanted to consume his entire face and then maybe the world, just for kicks. He let his left hand reclaim the other boy's as he forced a reply through the near stupor. “Ummm, thanks, Pepito, for saying all of that. I, uh, don't think that you would. Is this about the nightmare world? Because I know that wasn't really you.”

Returning the grip on his hand, Pepito shifted even closer. “Yes, but Shmee chose to use me that way for a reason, a reason probably based on some level of underlying truth about what you see in me, just like with Dib, and your parents and the way he used Johnny's form to represent your own personal bogeyman.”

Todd nodded, realizing that Pepito had probably been dwelling on the ordeal almost as much as he had, all the while thinking that it and his revelations were the reason for the lack of contact. “That's true, but those are mostly my issues. I...I have a tendency to see the worst of everything, probably because I've experienced so much of it. I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and I think...I don't think that Shmee was just trying to take advantage of my fears. I think that, in a way, he was my fears, some of the more serious ones anyway. All of those things that I believed about the world, but didn't want to, Shmee took those things on because I...couldn't.

“Shmee said that he was constructed from my own ego, my own needs, so maybe beings like him take on aspects of the host's personality, like a type of psychic symbiosis. And I think that maybe Shmee contained the part of me that was afraid, completely afraid, of living in a world that...well, a world that that same part of me took for granted as evil. That's why the landscape in the nightmare world was so monstrous. Those wicked organics were how I saw nature and the world, but that wasn't right. That point of view was too small and limited to see the whole system, the bigger picture. That's what I saw in the void: that everything is connected.”

Todd paused, shacking his head at his own frustrated efforts to explain something that he didn't completely understand yet himself. “Sorry, I don't...I haven't really had a chance to talk to anyone who might understand this yet. Is any of it even making any sense?”

“Yes, it is, actually. But even if it wasn't, listening is supposed to be one of those things that friends are for, right? So, continue, please.” After his father's talk the night before, most of what Todd was saying made a great deal of sense. It was all starting to fall into place, and it made Pepito feel as conflicted as the functions of Hell, which, he supposed, was entirely befitting.

Giving the other's hand an appreciative squeeze, the teen attempted to pick up somewhere around where he had left off. “That part of me that was so afraid feels like it's fading. Now, it's like...there's nothing to really fear, but some things to be cautious of out of practicality. It's like...snakes.”

“Snakes?” Pepito raised a dark brow, giving the other a lopsided grin for his example, which would be appropriate for most humans, but had never really done the trick for the son of Satan.

“Well,” Todd shrugged, “more like the difference between being irrationally afraid of them, even the small and nonpoisonous ones, and having a healthy respect for what some of them could do to you if you're not careful, if you frighten them. Well, you know, maybe not you specifically, Pepi.”

It was the half-demon's turn to shrug. “Snakes never bothered me...they usually like me.”

“Yeah, I bet.” The boy let out a short, humorous chuckle. “Snakes were just a common example, though. Maybe...hey, are you afraid of anything like that?”

“Me? That would have to be doves.”

“Doves? Seriously?”

“What? No, Amigo. Why would I fear doves! Ha! They're just glorified pigeons.”

“Well, I don't know; there is the whole thing with Christian symbolism...even though in the older, pagan version of the flood story in the Epic of Gilgamesh, the raven plays that role instead. But anyway, that reminds me, I was going to ask you...” Todd took a deep breath, knowing that he was probably about to make Pepito laugh even harder with his undoubtedly silly question. “How come you came to the Mass? I mean, I've always heard that people of the Devil's Party, or demons at least, couldn't go on holy ground. And then your father was at the cemetery too.”

Pepito snorted, but did his best not to laugh out loud. “That, my friend, is simply a fairytale that Christians like to tell themselves when they've seen a few too many horror movies. You see, 'God' doesn't really care all that much about what happens on Earth. In reality, such protections work more like spells, but only if there is enough faith or will to back them up, and most of the time, there isn't enough faith in a typical church service to even give me a headache. Not that I make a habit of going to Church services or anything. And I did take some Excedrin a few hours ago...”

“That makes sense, I guess. But isn't your father very...busy?”

“Yes, but I think that he wanted to see Leon for himself, in person. The child's situation is quite unusual, and there is a chance that he could be of use if Bitters' people are still going to give us trouble.” And he probably also wanted to see how Todd was adjusting to life with the key, but it was best to keep that to himself.

“Oh.” Todd looked down for a moment, brushing his free hand over a few blades of grass. “What exactly do you mean by 'use'?”

“Nothing yet. If Leon and Shmee are as fully integrated as Bitters thought, then they're probably stuck like that, but we still might be able to get some information about what they're planning from Shmee.”

“Pepito, Ms. Bitters said that the only way Shmee could get free is if Leon dies.” He wanted to let go of Pepito's hand then, but instead his grip tightened almost painfully. If the only difference between the Antichrist and Bitters was that one of them happened to like him, then choosing which side to be on was a very empty choice...almost as bad as voting for president.

Flexing his hand, the half-demon tried to loosen the other boy's hold. “Todd,” the name came out a little whiny, “while it is sometimes humorous, you've got to stop believing all those stereotypes. It is against our creed to harm innocent, little children. And Shmee said the same thing about the connection between him and yourself, but that didn't turn out to be true. In any case, there might be a way to talk to Shmee without separating them. He was able to pull himself together enough to help you in Bitters' base, after all.”

“What about all those kids you blew up in second grade on your first day?” Todd shrugged a little irritably. “I'll give you that the zombie kids don't count.”

“Heh. You damn well better, Amigo, because I only blew up the zombies to save you. As for the others, I did say innocent little kids, didn't I? But anyway, I was a kid then too, and I wasn't initiated. I didn't really completely understand what I was doing or the power that I had.”

Todd sighed. He had disliked those same kids very much as well, and he guessed that Pepito did have a point about his being a kid too. But it still wasn't very nice.

“Still,” Pepito continued, “...those kids shouldn't have made fun of my hair. Considering that I tried to cut it myself, it could have been worse. It could have been a bowl cut! My parents had already been making fun of it for weeks.” He shook his head at the memories, which were kind of funny to him now as well, though they definitely hadn't been at the time.

“So, you...did that to yourself?” Todd raised an eyebrow as the corner of his mouth curved into a slight smirk.

“Oh, don't start. It wasn't that bad.”

“If you say so, Pep.” Shaking his head, Todd looked from Pepito, toward the picnic tables, where the adults were now busy setting up the food. The hair really wasn't that bad; it was just fun getting the other riled up sometimes.

“Well, I do say so, and-!”

“And if you say something enough times, that makes it true?”

“When you're a crowned Prince of Hell and the next Black Pope, yes, yes it does.” Nodding, Pepito shot the other a large, self-assured smile.

“God, you're already a politician.” When Todd's hand came across a small twig of dried out leaves, he playfully tossed it at the other's head.

The twig was caught inches from Pepito's face, and he throw it back lightly, watching it hit Todd's chest and fall into his lap. “Yes! Now all that stands between me and world domination is a decent hair cut!” He sent the boy, who had apparently decided to grind the crunchy leaves into a fine powder in his hands, a sly grin at his own contradiction of everything he had just said.

“Heh. Your hair is fine.”

“See, my powers of persuasion know no bounds!” The demonic teen shrugged. “And there's a lot to be said for the powers of hair products and professional stylists as well. I like your new cut, by the way.”

“Oh, thanks. It was...getting in the way.” And getting pulled an awful lot. Now it was a mere two inches long, just enough to allow him to a little volume and some bangs. It was much easier to manage, but it had the downside of making him look even thinner than he already did.

Johnny creped through the park, glad that most of his little neighbor's “fans” had dissipated after the funeral. At least the Devil was good for something. He ignored the amused looks that he was getting from everyone under the gazebo, attention focused on Squee and Pepito as he darted from tree to tree, hiding his thin, slinky body behind each. The teens were so preoccupied with each other that they didn't notice his stealthy approach, which was saying a lot when one considered Squee's paranoia and Pepito's demonic powers. His left eye twitched in disgust at the thought before he leaped from behind the nearest tree. “Squeegee!”

“Ah!” Two handfuls of ground leaves flew into the air to rain back down upon all three of them when Todd jumped at Nny's voice, quickly turning around and moving back from the tree to face the manic, and finding himself much closer to a laughing Pepito. “H-hey, Nny. I didn't see you come over.”

There was a brief reprieve from the falling particles before Nny's face seemed to tic, and a skinny hand shot up to pull a yellow and red hat from his head, poring another layer of leafy bits onto the boys.

Todd eyed the two blue stalks that rose above a bed of tiny black hairs that had been growing back in for the last two weeks, then the hat that was tugged back on top of it. “Ummm, Nny? Why are you wearing a Hot Dog on a Stick hat? Do you actually work there now?”

“Me? Work there? NEVER! Well, sometimes I stop by the stand for some free food, and naturally, people approach in a thoughtless, inconsiderate and incurably lazy quest for questionable meat products. But I just happened to see this hat in the back of the Weeniemobile on the way here, and, even though the wretched thing is a hideous affront to my very existence, I had to stop Elize's bitching! My God, the bitching! You have NO IDEA!”

“Oh. Sorry, I guess.” To be honest, Elize didn't really seem the type to nag at anyone, but Todd could see how Nny might be a special case. He was, after all, a very...special individual with very ...unusual habits. Actually, he was almost jealous that Elize was dead and thus safely able to nag at his homicidal neighbor instead of constantly having to walk on eggshells around him. The man's scowl turned into a large smile so fast that it really did look as though he had just turned his frown upside down.

“It's okay, Squee! I've come to retrieve you and your little 'friend' for feeding!”

“Oh, yeah, 'no idea'.” Pepito muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he got to his feet and offered Todd a hand up as well. As the three of them started back to the picnic tables, he found himself smirking again. “Ah, lunch time, huh? Great! Oh, Johnny, fix me a hot dog, could ya!” The smirk grew into a large, mischievous grin when the maniac rounded on him.

“WHAT!” Johnny stopped mid-step, his falling right foot changing direction, crossing back over his stationary left to spin him around to face the son of the Devil. One hand darted into his coat, then down to his belt, but there was nothing. Damn Elize for making him leave all of his weaponry at home! “Oh, hell no! Not unless you want me to stuff it down your throat for you as well! Because THAT I will do, you sophomoric, mean-spirited hellion! Yes, that I will do!”

Shooting Pepito a berating look, Todd turned his attention to Nny. This time he would have to run interference from the other side. “Nny, please! It was only a joke! You know what I think? I think you two just run into a lot of confusion because you have such vastly different senses of humor. But he was willing to overlook the 'I'm about to kill you' joke, right?”

“I...suppose so.” The words were gruff and Johnny knew that the look he was sending both of the teenagers was begrudging.

Sometimes Squee had a way of coming off as more of an adult than himself, usually at times when he was about to give vent to his frustrations with the world and the sorry people that overpopulated it like so many vermin. He resented it, and sometimes it seemed a little condescending, but for the most part, he knew that what the boy told him was true... from a certain point of view. From Squee's point of view, people were more equal, more deserving of life, and the world didn't revolve around Johnny or any one person. It provided the killer with a momentary glimpse into a different world, and reminded him, uncomfortably, that his own point of view was just as subjective, that he might well be very, truly insane. But it never lasted very long.

Pepito managed to stifle his smile, mouthing a small 'sorry' to Todd as they and the lunatic continued on their way. When they made it to the gazebo, they both joined the other 'children' on the right end of the table, though with a grand total of twelve people at the long table, it wasn't a very effective barrier, physically or conversationally. Food and drink were passed around, with his mother and Brian doing most of the actual fixing of plates, despite the fact that Leon was the only one present who might have, possibly, needed such treatment.

“Tell me, Father Crilly,” Rosemary said to break the silence that had settled as everyone began to eat, “how long have you been working in America? Brian told me earlier that you're from a small island off the coast of Ireland.”

“Uh, yes, actually. Craggy Island, off the west coast. We've been stationed here for a good couple years now, haven't we Dougal?” He glanced briefly to the younger priest to his left.

“Ai, that we have Ted, that we have. Of course, Ted here had a go at America once before, but it didn't turn out on account of that Lourdes thing where he spent all that poor kid's money in Vegas, right Ted?”

“Shut-up, Dougal! You know that that money was just resting in my account!”

“Sure, right, Ted.” The brunet turned away from the other priest, turning his incredulous smile, which was at risk of bursting into a laugh, toward the only people at the table younger than his twenty-eight years.

“It was!”

Letta snickered into the plastic cup that held her lemonade before returning it to the table. “Oh, I heard that your last parish was in LA. How was it? Was it really as false and artificial as everyone says it is?”

“Yes.”

“I'd love that.” The girl rested her head at an angle on her fist with a starry-eyed look, ignoring her dad shaking his head on her left.

“God, so would I,” The priest added with a weary sort of enthusiasm. “But, you see, we were actually located in an area that was a bit of a ghetto. That's the reason we moved to this parish. Gang violence, you know.”

“No we didn't, Ted! We moved because of that that scandal with the Bishop's son and all those midgets! Don't you remember?”

“Hah! Father McGuire is such a kidder! Yes, he just loves the old joke.” Ted wrapped one arm around the other priest, squeezing a little too hard as a warning that would probably go unnoticed.

“What was I jokin' about then, Ted?”

Cringing at the look on the faces opposite himself, Ted decided it was time for more evasive action. Sometimes younger priests need a time out to learn from their mistakes, but it was best that the lay community didn't know that. “Uh, Dougal, could I see you over by the toilets?”

“I went before we left, Ted. You know, you should always-hey!” Dougal tried to cling to the table as Ted jerked him to his feet. “I wasn't done with my food!”

Letta joined the other teens in a small round of chuckling before leaning her head almost on Todd's shoulder. “I told you they were funny.”

Smirking, Gaz looked up from her food. “More like stupid.”

“There's an admirable quality.” At least it was often thought to be so in Christian circles, but Pepito kept that part to himself.

“Hey,” Letta protested, “only the younger one is stupid. And anyway, stupid can be funny!”

Todd smirked slightly, the fruit salad on his fork paused just above his plate. “Like when you tried to make a cake, and it was too runny so you kept adding more and more powdered sugar?”

“Squee, everyone makes mistakes like that when their young.” The blond rolled her eyes as she lifted a hot dog toward her mouth.

“That was last week!” Leaning back toward the gazebo floor, Todd dodged the hot dog that had changed course as Letta apparently decided he should shut up and that a full mouth would do the trick! “Ah! No, I don't wanna eat that!”

Gaz looked up from her game and the hot dog that she was eating one-handed again. “Whiner.” They were even more annoying that the seven-year-old on her left, who had been eying her Game Slave since the funeral with his beady and wanting child-eyes. Sure, to everyone else he looked innocent enough, but those eyes were hungry: hungry for what was rightfully and unquestionably hers. She sent him an extra glare for good measure.

“Oh, hush, Todd! It's just a hot dog; it's not gonna hurt ya!” The young woman turned sideways so that she had a better angle to try and force feed him.

“Won't hurt me? Do you know what those things are made of?” Just the thought of it made him sick! Only vegetarian or kosher hot dogs were exempted from the madness. As he took in the upside down world that seemed to sway, he wondered briefly if the Antichrist could eat kosher food.

Pepito grabbed Todd's arm, pulling him back up some. “Amigo, you're going to hit your head.”

“It would be worth it!” Writhing in his grasp, Todd swatted clumsily at the weenie that was now much closer, threatening to drip ketchup onto him. “Get it away!” He finally managed to slap it out of her hand and onto the ground, where it was snatched up by a vicious looking squirrel, just as Brain's patience finally seemed to wane.

“Children, please! This is a somber occasion!” The counselor wiped splatters of ketchup from his cheek as he sent the them a stern look. He sighed as they all settled down before tunning back to the adults. “So, Johnny, you and Elize seem to be spending a lot of time together lately...” He raised sandy eyebrows, letting the question ask itself.

“Yes. Yes we are.” Scooting further from the Damned woman, to the very edge of the bench on his side of the table, Johnny glared at the Devil across from him, his knife hand making several involuntary grasps when he received a wide, knowing smile in return.

Letta rolled her eyes. “What he means is, are you dating her?”

“What! NO! We're not dating! She is simply my...my!” He couldn't get the words out! And Satan was smiling even wider! It was that goddamn contract; it wouldn't let him reveal the truth! Instead, he felt his lips moving of their own, or more likely the Devil's, volition, saying things that were so disgusting and untrue that had the universe not been such an inherently shitty place, they would have been unspeakable. “She is simply my fiancé!”

The dead woman grimaced slightly at Johnny's last word before forcing a smile onto her face. She knew that Señor Diablo had made the man say it, but that kind of commitment was still a scary prospect to contemplate. In fact, Brian seemed to be the only one at the table, besides her boss, who was distinctly pleased by the news. Rosemary looked as though she wanted to say something, but knew that it would have to wait until later, and down the table, both Todd and his purple-haired friend were staring at them in disbelief. Pepito had buried his face in the boy's shoulder to hide what was surely laughter.

“Oh! Well, congratulations to the both of you! Have you set a date for the big day yet?”

“Uh, no, not yet. We're still in the process of-” The Damned guardian jumped when Johnny's voice rose to cut her off.

“We're gonna get hitched on Valentine's Day!” Johnny rose from his seat on legs made unsturdy by rage that he still found himself incapable of expressing. “And then we're gonna make sweat, sweat love until we gots us lotsa babies and we don't gots no time to do it no more!” Holy Hell! What the fuck was happening to his grammar! As if the mere concept of what he was saying wasn't putrid enough! He wanted to lunge at Satan, to run away, anything to make that verbal vomit cease, but it was as if he was glued to the spot! Well, at least he had found something that seemed to disturb Elize as much as her touch bothered him...if only he hadn't found it just as horrible...

Brian was no longer smiling. “Ummm...okay.” Johnny was starting to sound as bad as that horrid comic he put out! Maybe it was some kind of creative exercise that he did before writing another strip. His thought process was disturbed when he spotted Dib and his father, mid-argument, making their way through the gate and into the park.

A woman was with them. By the way Professor Membrane was holding her hand, the psychologist thought at first that maybe she was his date, but when they got closer he realized that he recognized her, though just barely. He hadn't really spent much time with Todd's parents over the years as they had never seemed very interested in the the boy's treatment. His eyes widened at his own last thought, and he immediately stood to receive the small group.

“Hey, S-squee,” Letta nudged the boy as her eyes lingered where her father was facing, “you know that thing that isn't real?”

Sighing at a subject that he was very much unfond of, Todd turned to face her with a impatient tone. “Yeah.”

“Well,...I think it's...coming this way.”

Following both their lines of vision, the Antichrist spotted the subject of attention, assessing the situation easily with his powers. “She's alive.” His voice was only slightly puzzled. He had known that she, unlike his best friend's father, hadn't been in Hell, but that hadn't necessarily meant that she was alive.

“No. No way. She...she can't be.” Todd shook his head, refusing to accept what he was seeing just as Gaz spoke his next words.

“No one could have survived that blast.” And she knew because Zim's moon base had measured both blasts as soon as it had picked up on them. “She would have had to have gotten out before.”

“She was in no condition to do that, even if there had been time after I left.” Todd grimaced at the memory of her limp body lying in a pool of goo, jolting like a suffocating fish. He stood up shakily as Letta and Pepito did the same on either side of him. Many of the adults were standing as well.

The Professor came to stop in front of his son's much needed therapist, pulling the woman slightly in front of him for inspection. “Doctor Douglas, it seems that I am regrettably too late to stop the funeral, but I believe that this woman is Jennifer Castil.” He spared a shocked boy, whose face resembled the woman's, a brief nod. “I saw her on the news last night, then in my kitchen this morning. She seems to be in shock, making her overly receptive to the suggestions of others, such as my poor, insane son here. You see, his little friend perished in the accident, and he is convinced that this woman has somehow taken on that boy's consciousness! And he had convinced her as well!”

“Oh! Oh my goodness! That's...that's incredible! Wonderful! That she's alive, I mean!”

“Yes! But now, good doctor, it is up to you to fix both her and my son!” He thrust the woman toward the reluctant psychologist.

“But-” Brian started to protest. The truth was that he already felt in over his head with personally handling Todd and Leon.

“But not together! Of course!” The great man of Science overrode him effortlessly. “Not until they have both recovered! Otherwise the delusion will persist!”

“WHAT!” Zim broke away from both men, taking on an aggressive stance. “How dare you try to decide the fate of...of me!” Obviously, claiming to be Zim wasn't helping. He was tempted to tear into them with his pak legs to prove it, but then the Dib might not let him work on his body anymore. Or he might come up with a plan to capture him as soon as he was in it,...though he probably shouldn't let himself forget that that was still a possibility anyway. “I decide my own fate! And I have decided that I shall stay with the Dib!”

Father Dougal's eyes went wide at the drama before him as he and Ted made their way back to the lunch table. “Uh-oh, Ted, I don't like the looks of this.”

“You're right there Dougal; we don't need to be involved in any more scandals. It's bad enough that the woman we just buried is standing in front of us now.”

“Is it like that time that Father Jack died, but then it turned out that he wasn't dead after all?”

“No, Dougal, this is much worse. Drinking cleaning products is one thing, but being blown up...well, that's quite another! And it won't look good for us either! No, this is big! Cloning dinosaurs big!”

The professor shook his head, ignoring the two priests that seemed to have just rejoined the group. “I'm afraid that's out of the question. My son is quite insane enough as it is!”

“Hey!” The aforementioned 'insane' boy threw his arms into the air to attract attention, letting them fall loosely to his sides afterwards. “ I'm standing right here, ya know!”

“I'm sorry, Dib, but it's true. And I don't have the time to watch you constantly to make sure that you and this woman aren't indulging in this Zim fantasy of yours! The WORLD needs me! Face it, son, she is a mental hazard for you!”

“Oh, come on! You don't have the time to watch me constantly? Zim's been living with us for two weeks, and this morning was the first time you even noticed!” The paranormalist pointed at his sister when he spotted her in the back of the group before him, still eating a hot dog. “Gaz! Tell him it's true!”

The purple-haired gamer swallowed the last bite. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“Daughter, this is no time to be funny! Son, her name is Jennifer.” Membrane's voiced came out a little worn. If Dib didn't get it together soon, it was likely that he never would. He would be crazy forever. “And you know I work at home as much as I can. It's just difficult to tell when you have a guest because I hear you talking to yourself so very often...about insane things.”

“Ahem!” Brian looked worriedly from the still aggressive-looking woman to the Professor. “I'm not quite so sure that my house is the best place for someone of such a...lively disposition. Under the circumstances, I think that it might be best if she stays at the institute while in recovery. I would, of course, be willing to offer her services from there.”

“Well, if that's what you think is best, doctor.” Membrane's goggles flashed again. “I must be getting to the lab, but I will give them a call now if you'd like.”

“That would be very-”

“NO! WAIT! I'll be better! You'll see! Look, I know I am not the great and mighty ZIM! See me, now, being all normal, and human and not-Zim-like!” Zim skipped around in the human body, stopping momentarily to pick small, weed-yielded flowers from the filthy Earth ground and pass them out to to some of the pigsmellies surrounding him.

“SEE! See how happy and well-adjusted I am! Z-I have no need of this pitiful and useless 'institution' of which you speak! AND no need of the DIB! I will go forth into the world, forging a new and fulfilling life for myself!” A new life which would have to include sneaking in to see the Dib and visit his moon base until he could claim his new body and cast off that disgusting human vessel.

“And what about your son?” Brian worked hard to erase the scowl from his face. That woman probably had some kind of amnesia related to the trauma of what she had undergone, so she probably wasn't just rejecting Todd...as she normally did.

“My...son?” Zim cringed at the thought of the body he currently occupied having actually birthed offspring, something that his, far superior, species had ceased to do long ago. And even before that, they had lain jiggly, gel-based eggs instead of the horribly messy and painful process of giving live birth like the humans.

Todd grunted irritably. It seemed that Zim hadn't even realized that the host he had taken was his mother. Or her body at least. He had no idea if Jeniffer Castil's consciousness was still in there somewhere. He was relieved that another energy being like Shmee wasn't the one pulling the strings, and slightly, ashamedly, relieved Zim was alive...kind of. But the alien had never been his favorite person to be around, and after he had so carelessly handed him over to Bitters, the last thing he wanted to do was live with him.

“Ohhh!” Zim's blue eyes landed on the glaring boy that several people had glanced at at the mention of his having an offspring. “Oh, yes, the Squeaky-kid! Of course! I will...uh, I will gladly take him off your hands so that we may dwell together in mutual human filth and affection!” He smiled assuringly.

“I'm not going anywhere with you!” The boy took a few steps back, closer to the picnic table, as he shot Brian a pleading look.

“Don't be silly, worm-baby of my ever fruitful, burning loins!” Why humans always described their 'loins' as 'burning' was beyond Zim. He felt no pain in that area! Maybe his pak had taken care of that. But it was important, now more than ever, to blend in with the Earth-swine! He rushed over to the Squeaky-kid, doing his best to hide his distaste as he flung the human arms around the cringing boy, whom he now matched in height, he was pleased to note. “Hyumun children belong with their parental units, do they not?”

“Don't you touch him!” Pepito jerked one of the woman's arms free, stepping partly in between her and Todd and giving her the best death glare that he could muster while keeping up his human guise. The feeling that he was getting from her essence was like nothing he had ever sensed before. It reminded him of possession, but not exactly. The secondary, and dominate, presence wasn't a spirit or an energy being. It had to be Zim. And that certainly wasn't a good thing.

“Now, now,” Brian said as he attempted to pull all three of them apart, “I'm sure this situation can be resolved without threats or dramatics.” Surprisingly, the woman was much more willing to be dislodged than the Hispanic youth, but he did manage to convince him as well. “Mama, I'm afraid that you can not take full custody of Todd until you have proven yourself of sound mind. I don't know if you have insurance, but the Defective Head Meat Institute has a program for-”

“Nooo! Don't lock me away! I-I,” Zim stammered, at a loss, “I don't remember who I am! This...this Dib creature is obviously insane!”

“Hey! Zim, you ungrateful jerk!”

“SILENCE, crazy worm-child!” He turned back to the Dib's brain manipulation drone. “But, please! Do not doom me to a padded cell when my only chance of remembering lies with you and that child! Surely, if I spend enough...time...with him, something in this pathetic brain will be triggered!” Lowering the the human head so that brown hair veiled its face, Zim did his best imitation of GIR after the inevitable loss of one of his toys, sniffling and blinking enough to cause a tear to roll down the cheek. “And...if not...well, at least I would have a chance to get to know him again. To rebuild a life that might have been lost forever!”

Todd sighed deeply as he watched Brian's eyes glisten with liquid sympathy. His counselor was always a sucker for a sob story, always drawn to the needy and lonely and usually blinded by their plight. It was almost certainly what had drawn him to Todd, but now it was working against him and for the space invader. He felt Pepito lean in close to his ear.

“The necklace is still keeping you safe, Amigo, but if you want me to get rid of him...”

Instinctively, the boy shook his head in the negative. Zim was horrible and completely untrustworthy, but now that Bitters was gone, he probably wouldn't be a huge threat. And he might have some of the information that Pepito and his father apparently hoped to get from Shmee. And, of course, there was also the small fact that the alien was currently in his mother's body. “Its okay.” The words were said with a weary sort of resolution, aloud because they weren't just meant for Pepito. If these kinds of things were going to keep happening to him, he might as well learn to deal.

END CHAPTER!

Notes:

-Patzie: Thanks again for another wonderful review! Of course I don't mind!

-The Black Pope is the head of the Church of Satan.

-Father Ted (and Dougal McGuire) belongs to Arthur Mathews, Graham Linehan and Trick Hat Productions.

-Sorry the end of this one is short and not too closureish. This style does not lend to writing that many characters at once!
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Sublime Awakenings