This story will be more entertaining if you check out Half-dude's deviantart profile and his fancharacters, Owen and Plink.
Discalimer - Invader Zim thunk by Jhonen, Owen and Plink are Half-dude's, Zima is Zimadonna's, Sideos belongs to Invader Sideos, and Pix is mine. The song used in this song-fic is Rain Song, by Cold.
When it rains I don't mind.
Let me stand here all night.
Did she take her own life?
Let me know she's all right.
The sky was pure gray, and the equally gray fog made it near impossible to see farther than a skool bus. The rain that fell from these dark clouds battered the ground, drenching the flora and producing many puddles that were constantly disturbed by the droplets that created them. The water-like substance covered and glided down the many fine cut stones that stuck out of the ground. A small cup with now cold coffee was resting atop a particular slab of stone. The fierce, yet soft rain filled the cup, raging to pour out the side, and diluting the coffee till it was just the murky substance that fell from the sky. Suddenly, the cup tipped over, rolling across the top of the rock, until a hand caught it before it fell to the soaked ground. The individual placed the cup back up, letting the liquid fill the cup again.
The creature by the rock stepped back, glancing down at what was written on this almost perfectly carved stone. Here rests Owen. May she forever be remembered by her friends and family, and all those who's hearts she has touched in her life. "Owen," the creature sobbed out. "I-I hope wherever you are," he sobbed and took a deep breath, "that you're happy." He brought his drenched sleeve up to wipe away the tears that escaped his red eyes and quickly blended in with the rain that poured against his face.
For five hours this saddened creature stood at this rock, this grave. He never moved, never stirred. He let the world know what his heart felt, as each sob never grew for the better.
"Plink," a voice called out weakly. The voice sounded familiar to Plink. It sounded like…
"O-Owen!" he shouted happily, turning around to see what he thought to be impossible. There stood a girl taller than him, with green eyes that went so perfectly with her beautiful green skin. Her clothes were drenched and the water dripped off of her antenna.
"Plink, you've been out here for hours." The beautiful figure of his beloved Owen faded to that of his friend, Pix. Her purple shirt, that matched her purple eyes, was soaked to the core. Her eyes were dismal, but compared to Plink's, they might have been signals of joy and delight. Any excitement that had filled Plink now left, slamming the door on the way out. The Irken lowered his gaze towards the ground, and let another sob overcome him, as the feeling of emptiness within him grew. "Plink," Pix said, her voice soft and delicate as she pulled the sobbing Irken into a hug. "Let's go inside, okay?"
"One more minute," Plink said as he stared back at the tombstone.
"You're going to get sick if you stay out here much longer," Pix answered. "What would Zima and myself do if we lost you as well?"
"Alright," Plink answered as he wiped his face again. Pix put an arm around him and walked him back to the house. They walked past aisles and aisles of fallen memories. They eventually came to a street, and they took the sidewalk until they came to a large house. Owen and Plink's house. When they entered, Plink took off his boots, and made his way to the bathroom to dry off. Pix headed to the secondary bathroom.
In the kitchen, a third being sat, her pinkish eyes staring at nothing particular on one of the walls. Her head was supported by her hand, which got its support from the table. Emotional and physically drained, she found it hard to continue with her career and keep up appearances, and being a popular singer, this was a major blow to her fan base. But what could Zima do? Owen was her best friend for most of her long life, and now she's gone. What do you do?
And every time it rains.
I feel her holding me.
And every time it rains.
Are the angels crying?
Plink tried to pull his shirt off, but found that the water had caused it to stick to his skin. This strong substance was hardly the water that the planet rained down many, many years ago. Since the Irkens' arrived, they added chemicals into the air that ultimately turned the deadly Vortian water into a non-lethal substance. Still consumable by the locals, but now also Irken-friendly.
With a twist and a tug, he wrenched the sopped shirt off of his body, and dropped it onto the floor. Not even using the towel in the room to dry off his soaked skin, he sat on the toilet. The toilet wasn't so much for Irken use, since the PAKs did a very good job of eliminating body waste, but for other non-Irken guests. They were on Vort, mind you.
Plink rested his weary face in his hands. It was hard. Four weeks ago he was holding Owen in his arms…sorta. She was larger than he was, and his frame just wasn't meant to support much larger weight. But that's beside the point. Now, Owen was buried in the local cemetery, not far from his home, which both he and Owen bought after their marriage.
"Why?" Plink asked himself for the billionth time since that fateful day, his voice tired, and drained of happiness. He raised his head from his hands and rubbed his fingers together, weakly examining the moisture collected from being outside. "Why is it that I feel Owen is right by me when it rains, like she's hugging me?" He sighed and stood up, trudging over to grab the large maroon towel on the towel rack. In seconds, he dried off his upper body and started to remove his soaked pants. Another minute, and he was fully dry as well.
He slipped on a dry white shirt, and a pair of dry black pants. Was Owen's spirit showing her sorrow as well? With this torrent of rain, was she showing Plink that she was sad as well?
I'll stay strong. I'll be fine.
Carry on with my life.
I'll still stare at the sky.
Pray for rain all the time.
Why'd you run?
Did you hide?
Why'd you leave?
No goodbye.
When the clouds take the sky,
does the storm give you life?
The living room was quite a beautiful room. Potted plants hanged from the ceiling, adding a deep atmosphere to the room, and on the walls, there were pictures from long ago. Pictures of Plink and Owen at work, getting married, and on their honeymoon were a few of the ones on the walls. The furniture in the room had a very nice couch and chair, as well as a big screen TV that took up almost an entire wall.
Pix was already in the living room, as well as Zima when Plink left the bathroom. The two girls glanced up at Plink as he sat on the couch, across from Zima. The room was filled with the sound of the rain pouring against the roof and walls, but nothing else. The TV was turned off, no music was playing, and no strange creatures were making any noise outside. Nothing else.
But a sound broke the silence. A sad sound. "Plink," Pix said softly, holding a picture of Owen in her hands.
"I…I'm fine." Plink replied. His voice seemed to flow with forced calmness. Like he was fine. Like everything was all right.
He wasn't.
"I'm going to go to sleep," he said to Pix and Zima, then walked out of the room. Once he left the living room and the gazes of those in it, his walk became a sulky trudge. He opened his bedroom door, and turned on the light.
The room had a purple Irken king-sized bed, as well as a green throw rug that covered the violet floor. Plink walked over and jumped on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor and holding his hands on his lap. Such a sad day, just like the rest. Eventually, he raised his head and saw a picture of him and Owen. A tear left his eye. "Why did you go, Owen?" he asked the picture. "Why?"
-----
"You didn't even tell me!?" Plink shouted at the screen.
"I'm sorry, Plink, but it was important, and you were away at the time. I just couldn't get a hold of you," Owen replied, her mind and voice stressed.
"But you could of at least left a note or something. I thought you had ran off on me."
"Now why would you think that? You know I would never do that to your, Plink. I just love you too much."
"Attention passengers," a female voice said over the intercom on Owen's side. "We have a suspicious stowaway onboard. Please remain in your rooms until further notice. Thank you."
"What's going on, Owen?" Plink asked.
"I don't know, Plink," Owen replied, as she glanced at the ceiling.
"Attention all passengers," the voice said quickly, and with worry. "The stowaway has been identified as Sideos. Everyone lock your doors immediately. No! NO! Stay back!" the next noise to come through was a blood-curdling scream, as the sound of flesh being ripped apart came from the speakers.
"Owen!" Plink said quickly, and worriedly as he grabbed the monitor.
"It's fine, Plink, I'll just lock the door and call the police. It's nothing to-" Nothing. The screen went to the dreaded static before it switched over to an Irken "call lost" picture.
-----
"I never even said goodbye," Plink sobbed. His tears let loose like a torrent of rain as he remembered his last conversation with his beautiful wife. Why did Sideos stop at that ship? Why did he kill them? What was there to gain?
And every time it rains,
I feel her holding me.
And every time it rains,
are the angels crying?
And every time it rains,
I feel her holding me.
And every time it rains,
are the angels' cries for me?
I'll never be the same.
I'll never be the same.
Be the same. Be the same.
As he sat in the bedroom alone, he heard his sobs, and the downpour of rain outside. It was just too much right here. There were too many memories. He couldn't stand being in this room. He just wasn't ready, and he knew it. But there was one place he needed to be. One place where he felt like he was with Owen.
He stood up and walked out of the room. As he neared the living room, he heard Pix and Zima talking, but Pix was currently speaking. "-Four weeks, but he hasn't gotten better a single bit." They stopped talking when he entered the room.
"I thought you were going to sleep?" Zima asked the downtrodden creature.
"I can't sleep," Plink replied. "I was just going to go back outside."
"Plink," Pix said, standing up and walking over to him. "Don't go back out. It's getting late."
"You'll get sick," Zima chimed in. "Don't force me to keep you here."
"Just let me go," Plink said as another tear strolled down his cheek. "I need to be outside." Plink stopped in her place, just staring at the young guy with a cloudy gaze. Plink opened the front door and left the building.
He continued down the path Pix had brought him from. A path he had traversed until it was burned into his memory. It wasn't long before he was standing in front of Owen's grave. He had no voice, for he said nothing. He just kept his gaze upon the stone.
-----
"Oh, Plink," Owen said as she watched her husband stare at her grave. "Please, don't be so sad. I'm right here. I'll always be here." She moved over to Plink and gave him a big hug. "I'll always be here. Whenever you need a hug or help. Always."
-----
It was what Plink came into the rain for. He just knew Owen was here for him. He just knew. Despite what anyone else would believe. He knew.
And every time it rains,
I feel her holding me.
And every time it rains,
Are the angels crying?
And every time it rains,
(And every time it rains)
I feel her holding me.
(Never be the same)
And every time it rains,
(And every time it rains)
Are the angels crying?