All That Never Was
Rated T for angst, and character death
When we hate someone, does that mean we won't miss them if they're gone? Emotions can lead us all astray, and we end up at a place where we can't go back and say what we should have. Life is always a story of too little too late, as it is in the story below of Dib and Zim. How would Dib feel if Zim were truly gone? This fanfic includes a poem I wrote once, and I thought it worked perfectly in this story, so I included it. Please review.
One day, he was gone. He didn't show up for school, and Dib wondered what he was up to. Days passed, with nothing from the alien. Dib watched his house as usual, but now it stood dark and silent. He didn't come to school anymore. He didn't threaten mankind. He was nowhere. Dib waited, but there was no sign of Zim. His enemy for nearly two years was missing. Finally, Dib made up his mind to investigate.
He approached the strange house that was Zim's base, half expecting the house's defenses to come online, but something inside him told him that the defenses were down. Something ate at him, like a cancer, telling him that something was wrong. Zim was his enemy, but hate is a funny thing. When someone you detest with the wrath of the furies vanishes, you worry. Hate can bind two people as strongly as passion. And so, Dib cautiously entered the house.
The front door was unlocked. He twisted the knob and pushed it open. He was greeted by a dark living room. Of course he had been here before, but now, the room was chillingly silent, with nothing but new cobwebs, and the smell of ghosts. The boy stepped in, closing the door gently. He pulled a small Maglight from an inside pocket of his black trenchcoat. Turning it on, he looked around the room.
"Zim?" He said. His voice came out squeaky. He cleared his throat, and silently cursed himself for letting fear and apprehension get the better of him. "Zim?" He called louder. There was no response. He walked slowly into the kitchen, shining the light around tactically. The house looked unlived in, and there was no sign of the green-skinned Irken anywhere.
Dib's hand lightly shook, making the flashlight cast eery shapes on the dark walls. In truth, there was something more than hate at work. Zim was, and had always been Dib's hope. His vindication. With Zim, Dib knew for a fact that there were advanced lifeforms out there. No one ever believed Dib when he spoke of the paranormal. No one had to. Dib could believe his eyes. He could believe himself. Zim had given him a reason to exist. He had even hoped that someday, just maybe, Zim could give up trying to conquer Earth. Maybe they could be a team. Maybe they could be friends. Maybe...
Dib's light shone on something metallic in the corner. He moved in closer. He could make out limbs, a head, and two dark, vacant blue eyes. He put a hand over his mouth. It was GIR, Zim's little robot sidekick. He was deactivated, slumped into a corner, almost like a dead body. In a way, he was. Dib felt a lump in his throat as he watched a spider crawl up the side of the little robot's face.
"Zim!" Dib called loudly. Only the silence answered. "Oh, man. Oh jeez, what's happened here?" Dib muttered nervously. He remembered the elevator built into the floor of the living room, and prayed that it still worked as he reached it. He stood on the lift's camoflaged surface, and breathed a sigh of relief as it lowered into the base below.
Dib lept from the pad before it even reached the floor level. He scanned the high tech base. The lights were dim and green, and Dib concluded that the computer must be operating on a power save mode. "Ziiiim!?" Dib yelled. He felt panic rising in him, a panic he couldn't quite explain. Maybe he cared more for Zim than he let himself believe. He searched around the room, looking for any sign of Zim. An idea suddenly hit him, and he rushed to the main computer terminal.
Dropping onto the soft velvet of the seat, Dib typed a command into the computer. The large screen lit up, bathing Dib in pale blue light. Dib typed access main memory database. A new screen popped up, prompting which files he wanted to view. He clicked on Transmissions, and pressed enter. Two long lists of numbered files filled the screen, incoming on the left, and sent on the right. Dib found the last incoming transmission received, and clicked on it. The screen switched to an archived audio-visual recording of the Tallest.
"Zim," The one in red said. "You've failed us for the last time. We're getting tired of your stupid incompetence." Dib heard Zim's voice.
"But my Tallest, give me another chance. I can be a better invader. I just need more Time."
"Zim," The purple Tallest had said "You're not even an invader. We sent you to that ball of filth to get rid of you. We don't even want Earth. We had considered giving you a chance if you could take over that planet of morons, but you couldn't even do that. You're useless!"
"Yeah," The red one said. "Completely useless. We'd even hoped Tak could get rid of you, but you got lucky. You know what, Zim, consider yourself in exile once and for all. I know you're an idiot, so I'll make it simple for you: we don't want you. We never did. Goodbye, Zim. Enjoy the rest of your stupid life on Earth." The screen went blank, then switched back to the tranmissions list.
Dib sat in silence for a moment. So Zim was an outcast, now. No wonder he had dissapeared. Dib knew how zealous Zim could get about his "mission". People like that live for their goals. But now, he could be saved. Dib would save him. He would take him in, help him. He knew what Zim must be going through. But where was he? Out of curiosity, Dib looked again at the screen. There was an outgoing message stored, posted only a couple of hours after the transmission from the tallest. Beside it read 009.2 not sent. Dib clicked on the message. A screen appeared, showing Zim, staring at the screen, tears running down his cheeks.
"Dib." Zim said on the screen. "My best enemy. My hated friend." He paused momentarily to sob lightly. "I know you will find this. You'll wonder what happened to me, and you'll come into my base, and you'll find this." Dib felt his lip begin to quiver. He had a growing sense of fear that this was turning out to be a suicide note. Zim continued on the screen. "I hated you. Oh, how I hated you. But you grew on me. Like a festering boil one comes to accept, then in a way, love. By the time you hear this, you probably already know that I have failed. I am nothing. I have nothing now."
"No Zim, you have me." Dib whispered. But the screen was deaf.
"I give you my base, Dib. And in it, is all the proof you'll ever need. Everything to prove that I was really who you said I was. It's yours. This is my gift to you."
"Zim." Dib squeaked, tears now running in rivulets from his eyes.
"As for me, I've always admired your oceans, Dib. They're really beautiful. You should go watch one sometime." At this point, Zim stopped, and wiped a tear from his right eye. He inhaled deeply, and stared coldly at the screen. "Remember me when you do, because that is where I'm going. The mighty rolling ocean shall be the grave of Zim. Goodbye, Dib. I wish we'd had more time. Goodbye." Zim put his hand to the screen. Dib placed his against the cold glass as the screen went black. Dib fell back into the chair, sobbing into his hands.
"Zim" he cried "it's not fair." He felt cold, and shivered in his sadness. He'd fought Zim for so long. For so long, they had been bitter rivals. Now, the world seemed so dark and lonely without him. Existence just didn't make sense anymore. The universe had it's own rules, and Fate was the biggest cheat at the table.
He went on for two weeks. Empty, cold, forlorn. He trudged on long enough to see the evidence he'd reported to Strange Mysteries of Unsolved Mystery get investigated. He watched as the world was shown proof that aliens were here, or had been here. He saw the headlines of the newspapers read "Boy Finds Proof of Life in Space". They wanted interviews. They wanted him on the news. On talkshows. But no one could find him.
They found him. He was laying in a strange spacecraft in his garage, with the note in his pocket. It was a poem, which read:
Stars are born, explode and die
planets turn, children cry
seasons change, recyclycal
turning 'round, warm to cool
worlds are made-worlds undone
a trillion years, a hundred suns
gravity: the binding tie
people live, people die
the cold of space-the cold of black
comets trapped within their tracks
emotionless, and all so cold
a universe, so stoical
apathetic to love and pain
all shall fade-all's the same.
Life is formed-life is ended
fabric torn, fabric mended
under stars still shining on
as they have in years long gone
a million dead-a million lives
the universe shall never cry
moons revolve-gasses drift
voices cry-voices lift
when we're done-we're thrown away
for another life-another day
unsypethetic-unwavering
to a hundred-billion things
to all that is-and all that was never
the universe lives on forever
They gave him a burial with honors beneath the foundation of the new radio-telescope they built to try to contact life among the stars. They dedicated the institute to him, to all he had accomplished. The night after his funeral, the Earth passed through the Perseids field. The sky was filled with white streaks from the heavens. Some said it was the most beautiful meteor shower seen in hundreds of years. Some said that it was the universe weeping for them.