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Just as Zim had dreaded, Dib's fit lasted well over two hours, which the boy spent curled into a tight little ball on the floor, clutching at his head and occasionally giving a few muffled sobs. And the entire time, the alien sat with him, watching that he kept breathing and that he wouldn't end up having spasms and injuring himself. It rarely happened, but  Zim knew it was probably best to be on the safe side. At least, Dib wouldn't remember any of this. Once he woke, he would be tired, confused and sometimes, understandably, frightened. That, however, could usually be fixed with a good night's sleep and some distraction. Of his attacks o