A/N: This is a little birthday present requested by Invader Johnny (sorry it's so late, IJ, but I had serious writer's block on it). Hope you all enjoy it.
Disclaimer: Jhonen Vasquez is the undisputed lord and master of all things related to Invader Zim. I make no profit off of this work.
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Not So Different
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It was another grueling day for all the attendants at Doomsville Middle Skool. They all reluctantly marched into the building and through the halls to their classrooms, unready for but accepting of the long, boring hours they were facing. And for one particular student, this meant also facing endless ridicule for daring to challenge the narrow-mindedness of his classmates.
Dib was standing in front of his class, flanked by blown-up spy photographs of Zim and GIR at their base and various points around the city, as well as charts detailing the outlines of various schemes of the Invader's that Dib had foiled in the past. Dib himself was waving around a pointer as he ranted, willingly oblivious to the fact that most of his audience was either ignoring him or glaring at him in annoyance.
"And as you can all clearly see from graph 42-a," Dib said, gesturing to a chart depicting what appeared to be some kind of high-tech catapult, "Had Zim succeeded in completing this device, he would have been able to launch giant blobs of bubblegum all over the city, which would have expanded to the point that they could carry the city up into space."
"Yeah, right," Torque snorted, "That sounds like you stole it from a movie."
"I did not!" Dib snapped defensively, pointing to another photo, "Look, you can clearly see him and his stupid robot dog thing putting the catapult together! And there are crates of bubblegum sitting right there!"
"Maybe he just really likes bubblegum," The Letter M said, "You ever think of that, Dib?"
"Yeah, why can't you just leave Zim alone already?" Zita asked, "He's never actually done anything that bad."
"Never done anything bad? Look what he's doing to Old Kid right now!" Dib exclaimed, pointing to the back of the classroom. Everyone followed his finger, gazes falling on the sight of Zim, who — having scooted his desk back — was now seated next to Old Kid, a mechanical claw extended from his PAK to grip Old Kid's head. For his part, Old Kid seemed oblivious to this, as well as to the large drill that Zim was starting to press against his forehead.
Noticing the large amount of attention suddenly on him, Zim quickly retracted all his instruments from Old Kid's head and scooted his desk back to where it belonged. Once there, he folded his hands on top of it and gave a too-wide grin.
"Zim has done nothing wrong!" he declared, "I like ice cream!"
"See, Dib?" Sara asked, as the other students went back to glaring at Dib, "He's not an alien. Aliens don't like ice cream."
"Says who?" Dib demanded, completely flustered.
"Everyone knows that, duh," Zita said, rolling her eyes, "It's in all the movies."
Before Dib could ask which movies specified that aliens don't like ice cream — and for that matter, why anyone considered movies more believable than his firsthand accounts — when Miss Bitters suddenly slithered up behind him, leaning down to glare in his face. Dib yelped and scrambled back, nearly knocking over his array of charts.
"That's enough, Dib," she hissed, "Your endless prattling is making my skin crawl. Go sit down."
While he was tempted to try and argue his case for continuing his demonstration, Dib much preferred not being banished to the Underground Classrooms. So, he reluctantly trudged back to his desk, ignoring the snickers of his classmates and Zim's smug smirk.
As Miss Bitters went back to one of her regular doom lectures, Dib leaned against his desk, head resting against an open palm, tuning out the world around him.
Really, what had he been expecting? No one ever listened to him, or took him seriously. Even when he could get people to listen, they would always write him off as a joke or crazy. And yet he kept trying to prove himself to those same people, over and over again.
"Does that make me a masochist?" he wondered to himself.
Class dragged on for a while longer after that, before the end of day bell finally rang. Everyone quickly filed out of the room almost before the ringing stopped, all in a hurry to get away from the wretched establishment as fast as they could. Not wanting to be crushed by the rush, Dib took a bit more time, letting most of his classmates leave before making his own way out of the room and towards the building's exit.
And, as if this day couldn't get any worse, there was Zim, standing atop the skool steps just outside the doors, hands planted on his hips and still smirking smugly.
"Poor, pathetic Dib," Zim sneered, "Always trying so hard to prove yourself to these other sacks of stink-meat, with no reward. When will you realize all your efforts to defeat the almighty Zim are futile?"
"When you learn to speak in the first person," Dib snarked, taking a small victory in the confusion that appeared on Zim's face as he processed that remark.
"Er, well," Zim stammered for a moment, before composing himself, "Enough of your blather! You should just admit defeat, Dib-Monkey — you will never defeat Zim! Never, I say!"
Zim waved his arms dramatically as punctuation of that last statement, shooting Dib a final glare before running off. Dib watched him go, a matching glare burning holes into the Irken's back as he quickly disappeared down the street. As he did, all his earlier frustration were washed away by a fresh wave of anger and determination.
"That's what you think, Zim," Dib said, shaking his fist in his enemy's direction, "It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks or says. I'll fight you until my last breath, no matter what it takes, no matter what it costs me! And only then, when you're defeated for good, will I-"
"Finally stop talking to yourself?" a familiar voice suddenly spoke up right next to him, cutting him off and causing him to jump with a startled yelp. Turning, he saw Gaz standing next to him, her usual disinterested look on her face as she tapped away at the Game Slave in her hands.
"Don't do that!" Dib said, heart still pounding from the surprise.
"Pay more attention to what's around you instead of monologuing and I wouldn't be able to," she replied, not even looking at him as she started walking again. Dib frowned as he watched her go, before quickly running up to match pace with her.
"I was not monologuing," he complained, "I was making a declaration of my heroic vow to protect the world!"
"To yourself," Gaz countered, "Hence a monologue… or is that a soliloquy? Eh, whatever. Point is, you're weird and that's why no one likes you."
Dib glowered at his sister, but didn't try to argue that particular point. Instead, he decided to focus on something a little less depressing.
"Well, so what if no one appreciates all the hard work I put into fighting Zim?" he asked, "I'll be the one doing all the smug laughing when I finally beat him for good and expose him to the world for the space monster that he is!"
"Good luck with that," Gaz said, deadpan, pace picking up to put some distance between them again. Recognizing this as a warning to stop talking to her or else, Dib clamped back on a response, and settled for silently fuming.
Couldn't he get at least a little respect from anyone? Why was he constantly belittled and mocked? Just one time, just once, he would love it if he could just get a win and be appreciated for it, instead of everyone laughing at him.
As if he'd been tempting fate with that stray thought, a skool bus carrying several of his classmates suddenly drove by. And as it did, Torque leaned out a window and tossed out a water balloon, which smacked into Dib's head, bursting on impact and covering him in bright green paint.
"Oops, sorry Dib!" Torque called out sarcastically, as Dib sputtered in surprise, "The aliens made me do it!"
Torque and the other children on the bus burst out in mocking laughter, which echoed long after the bus disappeared around the corner. Wiping his face as clear as he could, Dib glared in the direction the bus had vanished, eye twitching for a moment, as he tried to ignore Gaz's not so quiet snickering. After several seconds of tense silence, he then let out a wordless cry of rage, fist flying out to punch a nearby lamppost, only for him to immediately wince in pain.
"Ah! Dammit!" he cried out, clutching his sore hand, while Gaz looked on, showing no sign of concern or any interest other than a raised eyebrow.
"Finished?" she asked, dispassionately.
"Yeah, I'm finished, alright," Dib muttered, "I am absolutely, completely finished with all this!"
"You quitting your stupid hobby again?" Gaz asked, now mildly interested.
"What? No, I'm not a quitter. And it's not a hobby, it's a life's work!" Dib responded defensively, "Anyway, that's not what I meant."
"You're going to become emo and mope all day?"
"No!"
"You're going to swear revenge on humanity and team up with Zim?"
"I-you-wha…?" Dib could only stammer incoherently at that last question, until he noticed the nasty smirk on his sister's face, "Are you just trolling me?"
"Hey, if you're going to rant, I have to at least make it entertaining," Gaz replied with a shrug, before turning back to her game, Dib frowning at her.
"Well knock it off, I'm trying to be serious here," he said, "I'm not going to do any of that stuff, especially that last one. Seriously, that's just stupid. Why would I ever do something like that?"
"Meh," Gaz said with a shrug, not bothering with a proper response, "So tell me then, Mr. Angst, what are you finished with?"
"What I'm finished with," Dib said testily, "Is standing around whining while just hoping that everyone's going to start respecting me. I'm going to prove the truth once and for all!"
"…That's your big declaration?" Gaz asked, utterly deadpan, "More of what you were doing already?"
"Er… well, I guess when you put it that way, I-"
"Whatever," she cut him off, "Just do whatever stupid thing you're going to do. I'm bored now."
With that, Gaz turned her full attention back to her game and marched off. Dib barely noticed, however, as he was already wracking his brain to come up with a plan that would finally expose Zim once and for all — no more games, no more stalemates. This was going to be the defining moment of his secret war!
As soon as he figured out what he was going to do, that is.
Outside Zim's Base, Later That Night
Dib crouched in a bush just outside the fence lining Zim's yard. He was wearing a modified stealth suit, and had armed himself with several gadgets, all in an effort to try and give himself as much as an edge as he could get in the fight that was about to come.
Now, he was just waiting for an opening, and fortunately, he'd thought ahead to have one prepared. And as if on cue, here it came, in the form of a heavily-armored van with a sign on the side which read "Newspaper Police", which roared into the cul-de-sac and came to a screeching halt outside Zim's house. Doors on the van opened, and a man in an official-looking suit strode out, followed by two gruff, musclebound men in security uniforms.
From his hiding place, Dib watched as the trio marched into Zim's yard… at which point the lawn gnomes sprang to life, spinning to look at them, laser turrets popping out to take aim. The three men froze in place as they noticed this, and seconds later, the misshapen house's door burst open, revealing a furious Zim.
"WHO ARE YOU WHAT DO YOU WANT YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY GO AWAY!" the Invader yelled at the top of his voice, glaring at the stunned group of men. They stared at him for a moment, before the one in the suit snapped out of it and straightened up, looking at Zim sternly as he pulled out a notepad from his pocket.
"Mr., uh, Zim?" the man asked, glancing at the notepad for a moment.
"Yes, I am Zim! Now get off my lawn, stink-beasts!" Zim demanded.
"Sir, it has come to our attention that you have been stealing your neighbor's papers," the man replied, putting the notepad away, "This is a serious matter."
"You can't prove anything," Zim sniffed haughtily, "Now begone before I vaporize you!"
"Threatening us won't change anything," the official said firmly, "This is a one time only warning. Either you stop stealing our papers from paying customers, or you will suffer the consequences! …Namely a five-hundred dollar fine."
With that, the official and his bodyguards turned around and walked back to their armored van, which sped off and quickly left the cul-de-sac.
"Well, that went about as well as I thought it would," Dib thought somewhat sourly. A small part of him had held out just a little bit of hope that the city's oddly skewed legal system might react more strictly to his anonymous tip about Zim's paper stealing. But no, of course they just give him a warning and a slap on the wrists, whereas if Dib had been in that situation, he probably would have been prosecuted to the full extent of the law…
Still, that didn't matter. His little diversion had done its job, as Zim predictably marched out of his lawn — past the security perimeter — to yell after the newspaper van.
"Fools! You will get none of Zim's monies!" Zim shouted, shaking his fist at the disappearing van, "Come back here again and I'll turn you into gerbils and feed you to the filthy alley cats!"
With that said, Zim turned on his heel and started to stomp back towards his base… only for Dib to come bursting out of the bush, holding a giant water gun.
"Aha!" Dib cried, pulling the trigger and spraying the surprised Zim all over. The attack caught the Irken by total surprise, and he fell to the sidewalk, screaming in pain as smoke rose from his burning body.
Tossing the water gun aside, Dib tackled Zim. Wrestling with the alien, Dib tried to pin him to the ground, while pulling out a pair of sleep cuffs.
"Get off me, Dib-Monkey!" Zim demanded, attempting to buck Dib off. Dib, naturally, ignored his request, and kept trying to slip the cuffs around Zim's wrists. Eventually, however, a backwards kick connected with Dib's stomach, driving the breath out of him and giving Zim the room to knock him off. Getting to his feet, Zim kicked aside the cuffs that Dib had dropped, then whipped out a blaster and disintegrated them, before turning it towards Dib.
"Ha! Looks like I have the upper foot now, Dib!" he crowed.
"It's 'the upper hand', stupid," Dib growled from the ground.
"You lie!" Zim snarled, "Now, prepare to have your giant head vaporized!"
"Look, it's the Tallest!" Dib suddenly said, pointing behind Zim.
"My Tallest!" Zim shouted as he spun around, snapping to attention instinctively. In the moments it took him to blink in confusion at seeing that the Tallest were not, in fact, anywhere in sight, Dib managed to get up and tackle Zim again.
This time, the collision knocked Zim onto his stomach, blaster flying from his hands to skitter across the pavement and out of reach, as Dib's knees dug into his back, pinning him to the ground beneath Dib's full bodyweight. And as he struggled to break free, he failed to notice Dib slip a small metal chip into the space between Zim's PAK and his back.
"GIR!" Zim called out, finally realizing he could just call for help, "Get the Earth filth off of me!"
Nothing happened for a moment, and then GIR came zooming out of the house on his rocket jets, slamming directly into Dib. The force of the impact sent Dib flying across the street to slam into a dumpster.
"Tilt!" GIR said happily. Zim, meanwhile, clambered back to his feet, and turned to glare at where Dib was trying to pry himself free of the dent his impact had put in the dumpster. Deploying his PAK legs with a snarl, Zim started firing plasma blasts at his nemesis, who barely got free in time, dodging out of the way as the dumpster exploded and fleeing down the street.
"That's right, worm-baby! Flee, flee before Zim destroys you!" Zim laughed triumphantly, before frowning and looking down to glare at GIR, "What took you so long, anyway? You should have come as soon as I gave the order!"
"Aw, but I was watching the Scary Monkey Show!" GIR whined, causing Zim to twitch in disgust.
"That monkey," Zim muttered, before shaking it off., "Well, never mind. The Dib has tried and failed to strike Zim down. Let's go aside, so I can get in some proper gloating in my gloating nook."
With that, Zim spun on his heel and marched back inside his base, GIR following behind, the absentminded robot not even thinking to tell his master about the small blinking light just barely visible in the seam underneath his PAK.
Membrane Household, A Short Time Later
Pressing an icepack against his sore head, Dib ignored the pain and grinned widely as he kept his gaze firmly locked on his laptop. The screen was on standby mode, awaiting a signal connection with the device Dib had planted on Zim's PAK, and Dib couldn't fight the excitement bubbling up in him as he waited for that connection.
"Okay, I admit, I'd have been happy if Plan A had worked and I'd been able to get those sleep cuffs on him," Dib commented, "But, it worked as a pretty decent decoy. He never saw me slip that remote uplink chip into his PAK. And while I won't be able to, you know, hack it and make him drop dead or expose himself or something, I'll at least be able to access all the information that-"
"Will you shut up already?" Gaz demanded from where she was sitting nearby, watching the TV, "I already told you — I. Don't. Care."
Dib clicked his mouth shut, but his excitement didn't go away as his mind kept running over the (in his humble opinion) brilliant plan. Thanks to the bug he'd planted on Zim's PAK when the Irken been distracted by their fight, he could now directly access all the sum total of the Invader's information. And without worrying about being taken over by Zim's personality, like that time the PAK had accidentally attached to him.
Why hadn't he thought of this sooner? It was perfect! He'd be able to access all the proof he'd ever need about Zim's evil from the alien's own memories! No one would ever be able to doubt him again!
He was pulled from his self-congratulatory inner monologuing as his laptop started beeping, and an icon started flashing to indicate that a connection had been made with Zim's PAK. Grinning wildly, Dib began tapping away at the keyboard, bringing up files and running the translation software he'd previously downloaded from Tak's ship, converting the Irken letters that appeared on the screen into English.
However, that didn't help all that much, as it didn't appear as though the files were properly marked. They were merely timestamped with what Dib assumed were dates from the Irken calendar. Having no idea when any of those related to, he decided to just pick one at random and clicked on it.
The screen shifted to a loading screen for a moment, before resolving into what at first looked like a camera image, before Dib realized it was the view of things as seen through Zim's eyes. The Irken appeared to be in an auditorium of some sort, surrounded by others of his kind. In fact, judging by the angle of things, was Zim on a stage?
"…And that is why," Zim was apparently in the middle of saying, "When Zim has become Tallest, you shall all wish you had kissed my mighty boots when I offered you the chance!"
"Yeah, right!" someone asked from the crowd, "A shrimp like you becoming Tallest? A Vortian has a better chance!"
"Eh? But Vortians can't be Tallest," Zim said, sounding confused.
"That's the point, stupid!" another Irken said, before a plus-sized soda cup came flying out of the crowd; judging by the way the image shook, it had apparently hit Zim's head and bounced off of him.
"Ow! Who threw that?!" Zim demanded, only to suddenly be splattered with more garbage.
"Cadet Zim!" another, gruffer voice suddenly called out. Turning to the side, Zim's gaze fell on another Irken, one more than twice his height and wearing what appeared to be an officer's uniform of some kind.
"What have I told you about getting on stage and giving speeches?" the Irken demanded.
"But Instructor!" Zim protested, "I was merely reminding everyone of the greatness of Zim! And then they all had the nerve to throw garbage at me!"
"Really?" the Instructor asked, before turning to the crowd with a smirk, "Extra snack rations for everyone but Zim!"
The crowd broke out in cheers, while the angle of the view shifted, suggesting that Zim was now slumping in reaction to that statement.
"But, I-" Zim said, only for the Instructor to cut him off.
"I don't care! Now sit down and shut up!"
Dib hit the pause button, stopping the video with a frown.
"Okay, so that was useless," he muttered, scrolling down to another file, "Well, it doesn't matter. There's gotta be something decent buried in all this, somewhere."
Bringing up another file at random, Dib watched as the screen resolved to a new image, this time showing a wide, barren plain, beneath a red sky lit by two suns. Zim appeared to be surrounded by a large group of other Irkens, all wearing battle armor.
"Listen up, maggots!" a harsh voice called out, drawing Zim's vision to another tall Irken, one wearing a suit of battle armor this time, which made him look like a walking tank, "I am Drill Sergeant Kart, and it is my duty to see to it that only most of you die during the next several months of training, so that the least unqualified of you prove yourselves just barely worthy enough of advancing to the next level of your Elite training. Any questions?"
"Why must Zim bother with these qualifying tests?" Zim demanded haughtily, apparently not registering the rhetorical nature of that question, "Everyone knows Zim is the best there is at everything, so you should just make me an Elite and an Invader already!"
Kart glared at Zim, as did all the other Irkens in view. Then a nasty glint appeared in the Drill Sergeant's eyes, matched by an equally nasty smirk.
"Moving on," he said too innocently to be truthful, "It just so happens that I'm in need of a volunteer to demonstrate the training course. Ah, Trainee Zim! Thank you for volunteering!"
"Eh?" Zim asked, the screen darkening for a moment as he presumably blinked in surprise. Looking around, he (and by extension, Dib) saw that all the other Irkens surrounding him appeared to have pulled the old trick of stepping back in tandem to make it seem like he'd stepped forward. Zim just stared at them all for a moment, before giving a haughty sniff and stepping slightly closer to the Drill Sergeant.
"Pft, fine. Give Zim whatever challenge you have, and he shall triumph!"
"So glad to hear that," Kart said, before hefting a giant laser cannon over his shoulder and pointing towards the horizon, "Start running that way and try to avoid being hit by my shots."
"Wait, what?" Zim asked, blinking again, "How is that training?"
"It teaches you to avoid getting blasted. And if you fail, you die, and stop annoying us all. Now, start running!" Kart commanded, firing a warning shot that blasted a crater into the ground inches away from Zim's feet. Zim jumped into the air with a yelp and started running, ducking and dodging the rain of blasts fired after him, accompanied by the mocking laughter of the other trainees.
Once again, Dib stopped the video with a push of a button, frowning at the screen.
"Seriously? Where's all the memories of plotting to take over the planet and all his other evil? This is just other Irkens being bigger jerks than he is! I mean, I guess this counts as proof of aliens, but knowing my luck, everyone would probably think it's just a movie or something. I need something that absolutely proves that the Zim running around town is both an alien and totally evil."
"What part of 'I don't care, shut up', didn't you get?" Gaz demanded, though the death glare she shot at him wasn't quite as intense as normal; despite herself, her curiosity over the footage Dib was watching was slowly winning out.
Even so, the harsh tone of her voice was enough to get Dib to quiet down again, and he refocused on the files, once again randomly picking one and starting it up.
This time, surprisingly, Zim wasn't in any sort of military-related setting, but what appeared to be a lab of some kind. More surprisingly, while the white-coated figures shuffling about the room were mostly more Irkens, there were a smattering of other aliens. Most notably were a few of the goat-horned beings Dib vaguely recognized as Vortians.
He didn't get a chance to fully take it all in, however, as the view suddenly shifted to a nearby metal wall, Zim using its polished surface as a mirror. He was also wearing a white lab coat instead of his usual Invader uniform, so Dib had to assume that this was some part prior to taking on that role.
After taking a few moments to adjust his coat, Zim puffed up with pride and turned to look at a purple-skinned Vortian standing nearby, looking over something on a datapad.
"This is a truly great day!" Zim said, "Today is the day everyone shall finally see Zim's genius for the brilliance it is! You should be honored that I'm letting you stand anywhere in my general vicinity on a day like this. Feel honored!"
"Uh-huh," the Vortian responded, not looking up from his pad, "You do remember that Tallest Miyuki isn't coming until next week, right? This is just a rehearsal to make sure everything's in place for her."
"Of course Zim remembered that!" Zim snapped defensively, "But by proving my superiority now, they will surely send word to the Tallest, so that when she comes, she will already be in awe of it and prepared to shower Zim with praise!"
"If you say so," the Vortian muttered, before wandering off. Zim watched him go, the image narrowing slightly as he glared, before his attention was redirected elsewhere.
A mixed group of Irkens and Vortians, wearing lab coats adorned with ribbons and sashes that probably denoted rank, were wandering around the room, inspecting the various workstations. As they approached Zim's table, he stood up taller and grabbed ahold of a nearby metal box. As the group reached Zim, they all took one look at him and groaned.
"Urgh, really?" one of them muttered, "I thought we'd banned Zim from presenting anything?"
"No, we just wanted to," another replied, "But the Research Station's code of operations state that all those stationed here must present for the Tallest's review. And unfortunately, that includes Zim."
"Yes, that includes Zim, and you should be grateful for it because compared to Zim, all others here are dookie!" Zim proclaimed loudly, drawing dirty looks from everyone else in the room, "Now, behold my amazing genius!"
He then pressed a button on the side of the box, and with a dramatic burst of compressed air being released, it burst apart, revealing… a small blob-thing with a bunch of tentacles and too many eyes. As those eyes all blinked up at its onlookers, the group of administrators stared at it, before giving Zim matching unimpressed looks.
"That's it?" one of them asked flatly.
"Yep. It's an Infinite-" Zim started to explain, only to be cut off.
"Yeah, that's great, Zim," another administrator said halfheartedly, "Okay, let's move on."
With that, the group quickly walked away, ignoring Zim calling after them.
"Hey! Hey! Get back here! You didn't give Zim a chance to explain his amazing-ness!" he called after them, huffing in frustration as they disappeared around a corner, "Oh come on, you could have at least listened a little… well, fine, your loss, all of you! I'll demonstrate to the Tallest when she gets here, and she'll be in awe of it, and then you can all kiss my c'horta!"
Yet again, Dib hit the pause button, stopping the footage with a frown.
"Are all these memories just other Irkens dissing him?" he asked bitterly, while clicking on another file.
This time the view was a little more familiar, Zim apparently in the control room of his base, looking up at a screen bearing the image of the two Tallest that Dib was actually familiar with. Both of whom, he noted, were bearing identical looks of annoyance and boredom, seemingly not at all impressed by whatever Zim was in the middle of telling them.
"…And so it turns out that the ugly neighbor lady wasn't really a government spy ninja," Zim was saying, "Which, on the plus side, means I don't have to keep sneaking around wearing that bear suit as camouflage anymore."
"Huh, so that's why he was wearing that costume that week," Dib muttered, "But, wait, how was that supposed to be camouflage?"
"How was that supposed to be camouflage again?" Tallest Purple asked, echoing Dib's question (or, wait, since this was the past, was Dib technically echoing him?).
"Oh, that's simple, my Tallest," Zim explained, "Ninjas are incapable of seeing bears, so I would have been invisible to her sight."
"What? That doesn't make any sense!" Dib complained, while the Tallest didn't look impressed either.
"Right, of course," Tallest Red said dryly, "Well Zim, that was a great report, as always. But we're just gonna go now…"
"But my Tallest, I haven't even had a chance to tell you about my latest plan to conquer the miserable humans!" Zim protested.
"We'll just pretend you did," Red said.
"And assume it blows up in your face, as usual," Purple muttered.
"Eh?"
"Er, I mean, we'll assume it went great, and, uh… someone get me doughnuts!" Purple amended quickly, before running offscreen, and Zim's screen went blank.
"Oh, come on, you couldn't let him talk about his plans so I could use that as evidence to expose him?" Dib demanded, before clicking on another memory file.
"No, Zim, you can't join the Elite Assemblage parade. Because we don't like you."
Click.
"I don't care how efficient it is, Zim, we don't need a microwave with a flamethrower attached to it. Stop wasting everyone's time!"
Click.
"We can't talk right now, Zim, we're, uh, going through a wormhole! Cut transmission!"
Click.
"No one cares, Zim. Go away!"
Click.
Memory after memory, it played out the same. Zim was trying to gather everyone's attention, and they'd either shoot him down or flat out ignore him. At some point along the way, Dib's frustration with lack of solid proof of Zim's villainy being presented melted away, replaced with what almost felt like… pity? Sympathy? No, those couldn't be right — why would he be feeling bad for Zim?
Gaz, meanwhile, had at some point given into morbid curiosity, and was leaning over Dib's shoulder and watching the files. Popping open a soda can, she spoke up, seemingly answering Dib's quiet question.
"Wow, Zim's life sucks just as bad as yours," she said, taking a sip.
"What? Zim and I have absolutely nothing in common!" Dib snapped, defensively, "He's pure evil and wants to take over the world!"
"And he sucks at it," Gaz said, taking another sip, "Just like you suck at proving your paranormal crap exists to everyone else. Also, it looks like he gets just about as much respect from everyone as you do. Which is to say, absolutely zip. So, you know, you have all that in common."
"What are you, a therapist all of a sudden?" Dib asked, sourly.
"No, I'm someone who doesn't give a damn what other people think of me, which you should consider doing too, so that you stop coming off as a whiny bitch."
"I am not-"
"You spend all your time practically begging people to believe you about Zim, and Bigfoot, and ghosts, and all that other stuff, never caring about how pathetic you look when you keep trying even when everyone makes it perfectly clear that they don't give a damn," Gaz said, "If it all really means that much to you, just do it, stop trying to get everyone's approval for it."
"And what about Zim? Do I just give up on stopping him?" Dib demanded. If this was just his sister making a statement out of her natural misanthropy, he swore he might just snap.
"Fight Zim, don't fight Zim, I don't care," Gaz said, "Like I've said a million times, he is just awful at trying to take over the world. But if you want to waste your time fighting him over it anyway, fine, that's your business. Just stop trying to drag in people who aren't interested in being involved. You'll stop being so disappointed that way, which means you'll be less annoying to everyone else."
With that, Gaz straightened up and walked away, soda in hand, leaving Dib to his thoughts as he turned from her retreating back to stare pensively at the computer screen.
Despite the usual harshness of Gaz's statement, Dib could — very reluctantly — admit that she might have a point. Hadn't he just been complaining that morning how frustrating it was that no one ever listened to him? A part of him was tempted to say "screw it" and just give up trying to convince people of the threat they face, because at least then he wouldn't have to face constant ridicule on top of all the other crap in his life.
But was it so wrong to want appreciation for all his hard work? He was the only thing stopping Zim from taking over the world, and he did so on a regular basis. People should be on their hands and knees thanking him for everything he did!
…Okay, so maybe that last bit was a little egocentric. The thing that should really matter was that he was saving the world, right? As long as the world kept on spinning, with humans not being destroyed or conquered, he could still say he was winning. Really, he had to ask himself — what was more important to him, stopping Zim, or getting credit for it?
After much thought, Dib came to what was probably the best conclusion he could. And that was the acceptance of the simple fact that he'd been letting need for gratification by others get the better of him. He was the Earth's first line of defense against Zim's evil, but he'd been distracting himself by trying to convince everyone of it. He'd just have to focus on beating Zim first, and then prove his alien existence to the world.
And that was when the front door was burst open.
"What the…?"
"Hellllloooo!" GIR cried happily, before running over and, before Dib could react, grabbed his computer and ate it.
"Hey!" Dib yelled, swiping at the robot, who hopped out of the way.
"Mwuahahahahahaha!" Zim's familiar laugh called out, the head of GIR's dog costume unzipping to allow a screen to pop out of his actual head, displaying Zim's face.
"Foolish Dib-Monkey! Did you think that I wouldn't figure out that you had hacked my PAK?" the irate Irken sneered, "Well, I did! And I tracked the signal back to your computer, and now you'll never be able to use whatever information you stole against me!"
"So you had to have GIR eat it?" Dib asked, deadpan.
"Eh?" Zim blinked in surprise, "GIR, you were supposed to blow up the Dib-human's computer, not eat it."
"Tastes like raisins!" GIR responded cheerfully. Now it was Dib's turn to blink.
"Why would my computer taste like raisins?" he asked, eyebrow raised.
"Never mind your sun-dried fruit!" Zim snapped, "You have not only attacked Zim, but insulted him with the nature of this attack. You shall suffer for this crime. So much suffering shall you suffer! More suffering than any suffering sufferer has ever suffered-!"
"Okay, now you're just using the same word over and over again," Dib said flatly, "Either threaten me with something else or get out of my house already."
"Oh, Zim shall leave you be for this moment, Dib," Zim responded with a glare, "But you just wait. I will have my vengeance. GIR, withdraw!"
"Bye-bye, Big Head!" GIR said with a wave, before jumping out of the broken-open door, rockets in his feet igniting before he hit the ground and carrying him away. Dib leaned out of the house to watch him go, feeling a renewed determination in him.
"Oh, I know you will, Zim," he said, "I understand you completely now. You need to win in order to prove yourself. Well, I don't have to do that anymore. I'm going to beat you because it's the right thing to do, and not because I want people to cheer me on for it. And I-"
"Dib!" Gaz called out from further in the house, "Stop monologuing and fix the stupid door!"
Dib flinched at his speech being interrupted, but he was still smiling as he started walking towards where his father kept the house repair tools. He didn't know why, but the events of the last few hours suddenly left him feeling like a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. He had a new, clearer definition to his purpose, and he was going to make the most of it.
It may be that he and Zim weren't so different, but he, at least, would be able to learn from his mistakes.
This was a whole new beginning…
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The End
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A/N: Well, finally done. And I gotta admit, this story really kicked my ass. I'm still not satisfied with the final result, but honestly, if I didn't get it up now, I never would have, and this has taken way too much time and energy from other projects.
IJ, I know it's not quite what you asked for, but I really hope you like it regardless.
Read and review!