Boredom and lack of internet for over two weeks are responsible for this quick one-shot. You've been warned.

Oh, and Invader Zim doesn't belong to me.

Empty Victory

Finally. After years of studying, sneaking, biding his time and fighting he'd done it. He'd succeeded. He'd won. He'd finally defeated his alien arch nemesis, the self-proclaimed harbinger of Doom to Earth.

Even as he stood there staring down at Zim laying helpless at his feet, the tiny green alien continued to rant and rave, spitting promises of vengeance and painful retribution up at him.

It would have almost been funny if it wasn't so horribly pitiful to watch.

A pool of watery-green vomit surrounded the defeated Irken invader. Despite his endless litany of curses and threats, Zim's voice was disturbingly weak. It seemed to take all the alien's strength just to draw a single, shuddering gasp of air into his failing body before he continued his death rant in whisper-thin fragments of two or three words. His face was flushed a dark pine shade of green. Once alert, molten magenta orbs were now glazed and unfocused, staring only in Dib's general direction. Violent tremors shook the invader's fevered body, as if he were being shaken apart at the joints by some invisible god-like force.

"Filthy human…(gasp) Zim will have… his revenge… (gasp) Just you wait… (cough) This doomed planet… will feel the wrath… of my anger… (gasp)"

Dib knew he should be elated. That he should be savoring the sweet, sweet taste of victory. But he felt nothing. In fact, instead of joy or even a balmy sense of satisfaction, he felt strangely empty, as if some kind of plug had been pulled and all his ambitions and drive had drained from him like water through a sieve.

It had been so easy. After years of systematically testing the weaknesses of Zim's defenses, Dib had finally managed to slip inside the invader's base undetected. Using a tactic almost as old as human warfare itself, he'd tainted his enemy's foodstores of Irken nutrient packs with ground chicken and hidden himself inside the base until the time came for Zim to return home and seek out sustenance.

Dib had learned early on in the course of Zim's bungled invasion that Irkens were highly allergic to almost any form of Earthen animal protein. So armed with this knowledge he'd used it to his advantage.

He just hadn't been expecting his plan to work quite this well…

Zim sucked in a shuddery gasp of air, his tiny body twitching with another set of convulsions. "Stupid earth-monkey… (gasp) Even if you (gurgle) kill me… it won't save your… pitiful planet. (wheeze) The Armada will come… and then-"

But Zim never got to finish that thought. For with an unforeseen spasm, he lurched forward and sent a wave of phlegmy green vomit spewing down the front of his uniform. Several drops splashed the hem of Dib's trench coat. Coughing helplessly against the poisonous bile choking his airways, Zim clawed at the ground, angrily screaming out in misery and defeat.

Despite Zim's venomous threat, both of them knew there was no real threat of an invasion from the Irken war fleet. In all the years Zim had spent on Earth, never had the Tallests showed any interest in the small blue planet or given the tiniest indication they saw Earth as a worthwhile conquest. Earth was a primitive out-of-the-way planet in the far corner of a no-name galaxy. In short, it was absolutely worthless to the Irken army or its quest for universal domination. They'd sent Zim there to get him out of their antennas, and had no intention of going there themselves. It was an unspoken fact both Zim and Dib chose to ignore most of the time but now made Dib wonder if there had ever been any real purpose for his near-obsessive drive to protect Earth except as an excuse to continue fighting the planet's only resident alien life form…

"Filthy… (gasp) dirty worm-babies…(wheeze) all doomed… (hitched cough) you wait… you'll see…"

The tiny invader's body gave a violent shudder, his incoherent mutterings trailing off into a frighteningly feeble series of pants and coughs. His taloned fingers uselessly scratched at the tempered metal floor. With an unforeseen burst of strength Zim tried to push the upper half of his body up off the ground to face his human vanquisher. But before he could even lift his chest fully off the ground his arms gave out - his hands skidding out from under him in the slippery pool of his own sick - and he collapsed back to the floor. He did not try to rise again and seemed to consign himself to laying there with his face pressed to the floor in a phlegmy pile of his own vomit.

"What?… no… gloating from the… (gasp) human stink-beast?" Zim spat, his voice barely louder than a whisper. His eyes flashed with familiar contempt as he glared up at Dib. But just as quickly as it appeared, it disappeared again into the darkening recesses of his globe-like eyes. His body continued to shake unceasingly. "Aren't you (gasp)… glad you finally… (wheeze) defeated the great Zim..? Isn't this… (gasp) what you always wanted?"

It was, wasn't it? Dib just didn't know anymore. He knew he should be celebrating, but why did he feel like he'd just swallowed a ten-pound rock that was now sitting like a lead weight in the bottom of his stomach? Why did this supposed victory feel so… wrong?

A convulsion - stronger than any of its predecessors - contorted Zim's face into a rictus of pain. His limbs twisted sharply against his body at unnatural angles. Like a bug curling in on itself in its last few minutes of life, the disgraced invader rolled onto his back to stare up at Dib. No longer able to control the jerky thrashes of his body caused by the tiny particles of poisonous protein and amino acids coursing through his veins, Zim managed to focus his fading vision one last time on his enemy's face. His chest heaved with the effort to draw enough air into his lungs to speak.

"You win, Dib-filth… (gasp) Congra…tulations…(ga-)"

And just like that - before Dib could fully process the invader's sarcastic parting words - the light in Zim's eyes abruptly faded, his eyelids sliding half close. His body abruptly stopped convulsing and froze in instant rigor mortis.

For several moments of unbroken silence Dib stared at the motionless alien corpse as if waiting (hoping?) for the invader to suddenly spring back to life and make a mad grab for the nearest ray gun, all the while crowing how Dib's primitive human brain was no match for his advanced Irken intelligence and cunning. But, no. Zim continued to lay there still and lifeless - nothing but a twisted green shell of alien flesh.

Mustering his shaken bearings, Dib managed to find his voice. "Zim?" he called as if that might somehow rouse the Irken warrior. His voice echoed hollowly through the oppressive silence of the empty alien base. "Zim?" he tried again even though he already knew it would do no good.

He'd done it. He'd won. This was the victory all his years of hard work and thankless effort had wrought. He'd defeated Zim. He'd saved Earth. Wasn't he happy?

Taking a shaky step forward Dib crouched down beside his former enemy. In his final death throes Zim's lips had curled away from his teeth in the imitation of a pained snarl. His serpent-like tongue hung out one corner of his mouth. The acrid stench of bile hung over the area like an invisible death mantle.

Staring down at the dead invader, Dib couldn't help but feel the emptiness inside him swell. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it was suppose to end. At least not yet. He'd wanted to make Zim sick, yes - to test the alien's allergic reaction to meat. But he hadn't been expecting to actually kill him. This was suppose to have been just another chalk mark on the tally board of their long list of meaningless victories and defeats. Their constant fighting was more of a game if anything. Because hadn't Dib already figured out the truth behind Zim's supposed "mission" to Earth years ago? Hadn't the fact already been established that Irk had no interest in the tiny water-covered planet? Hadn't Dib begun to recognize that on some subconscious level he actually enjoyed trying to outsmart Zim and all his harebrained schemes?

Was that why this victory had suddenly become so meaningless?

Kneeling there, watching the watery slime slowly dry across Zim's face, the teenage paranormal investigator felt an unexplainable sense of loss roll over him. This was the end. There would be no more plans to destroy Earth for him to thwart. No more threats of alien invasion. No more doomsday devices. No more alien life forms for him to track and study. It was all over…

Unaware of his own actions, Dib slowly reached a hand out towards his fallen enemy. Whether it was to fully close the Irken invader's eyes as a final act of respect, or just out of some inherent, unsquashable curiosity of the strange and otherworldly he didn't know. But just before his fingers could graze Zim's cooling alien flesh, he abruptly retracted his hand.

"No…" he murmured, shaking his head. He didn't deserve to touch Zim. He hadn't earned that right. "You deserved a better death than this," he said as he slowly stood straight from beside Zim. "I ended the game too soon…"

Turning his back on the defeated invader, he began to trudge his way towards the elevator that would take him back to the surface. As he stepped into the pneumatic transport tube, he turned to gaze one last time at his enemy's twisted corpse.

"I won't do an autopsy on you," he whispered into the silence of the alien laboratory that had become Zim's tomb. "It wouldn't feel right if I did. And I won't tell anyone else about you. I doubt they'd believe me anyway even if I brought them your body. So I guess, in a way, I can say 'you win' too…"

The door slowly closed around him and he felt the lift begin its slow upward ascent. Closing his eyes, Dib tilted his head back to rest against the cold metallic wall behind him.

He'd done it. He'd finally won.

But why did it feel like he'd lost so much more than he'd gained?

End

So, good? Bad? Somewhere in between? Reviews, as always, are encouraged and appreciated.