Okay, well let's start off with the compulsory, I hereby declare I own no part of Invader Zim or any of it's associated characters and themes etc, etc, etc. Okay, are the lawyers gone now? Good, okay, this MIGHT turn out pretty long... this first chapter is just ta throw you in and everything, the next chapter will explain a little more and so forth until it's finished ^_^ Hope to get some reviews!

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"Project 63. Completed."

I glanced up hopefully, forcing my exhausted eyes open for what felt like the thousandth time in the last fifteen minutes. Yawning I stumble over towards the main computer console, pushing a weary hand through messy black bangs. I know I look a mess, but then again it has been nearly three weeks since I last slept; almost as long as the last time I ate I think... I'm not sure anymore. That's the problem with sleep deprivation you see, makes your memory kinda hazy, it starts getting hard keeping track of the days, and being underground in these old labs doesn't exactly help. Down here I don't even have the light to help me keep track of the time although after the very first week here I remedied that problem by getting a digital 24 hour clock, the kind that says 13:00 at 1 in the afternoon, that's really helped.

As I step up to the stasis chamber that contains my latest creation I feel my heartbeat increase rapidly, and I'm startled to hear my own breath as it shortens until I'm almost hyperventilating. I guess 63 projects isn't enough to dull the edge that slices through me: exquisite pleasure and pain existing in partnership to send the adrenaline twisting through my veins.

Running my hand over the smooth metal I glanced at the read outs thoughtfully, noting the strong heartbeat shown as a darting line on one of the monitors. My touch is loving as I run my fingers over that darting line, it represents so much to me. The project isn't truly completed of course. It won't be until I press the activation button and send thousands of electric impulses through the liquid to activate my creations own brain waves and bring her to life.

Oh Gaz, I can't wait until you're alive again.

The soft blue light flickers and ripples over the wall behind you, distorted by the liquid surrounding and suspending you. You look a little different to the others though... hair a little longer. That's good though, cause now you look a little older, like you've aged, just as you would've if I hadn't gotten you shot.

There are times I wish these clones could retain their memories of the... accident... then I could apologise for what happened, explain that I never meant for her to be hit. Apologise... for being a coward. Maybe if we'd been closer then I could have explained that the reason I stay close to you so often is two fold, not only to protect you from danger but to make sure you're still there. That you won't leave me like mom did or vanish for months on end like dad does, cause if you did then I'd be so alone.. That's why I'm doing this now Gaz, for you, and also for me.

Checking the information displayed on the monitor I shut my thoughts off, a talent I've acquired over the last six months; if I hadn't learnt how to shut off my mind to anything outside my work then I might have gone insane. Heh, the irony of that statement hits me a few moments later, for of course there are many who would say I have already gone insane. Glancing up at the clock on the wall I'm pleasantly surprised to see it's ten minutes to six. Good. That means Zim will be round soon.

Pushing away from Gaz and her life monitoring systems I stride patiently upstairs into the main building, already familiar with the established routine, I don't know exactly why Zim calls around every day and tries to convince me to forgive myself but I appreciate it. And since I don't leave the house anymore the food he pushes through the letterbox everyday is always welcome when I'm hungry enough to eat.

Reaching the top I turn into the living room and am surprised to see dad's image on an old hover screen, looking rather annoyed.

"Son, where's your sister? It's family night out on Thursday and it's her turn to choose."

The absurdity of the statement curves a faint, somewhat mocking smile on my lips as I stare back at Membrane. In some ways I pity him, when Gaz died he broke down and practically moved into his lab at work. Which I guess is just as well, I don't think he'd react well if he knew what I used his home lab for, heck it might even push him further off the edge than he already is. He calls to demand to know where Gaz is every couple of weeks or so, from what I've heard from Zim his work hasn't been affected, he's still thought to be one of the world's greatest scientist, maybe even the best, only I really know how bad dad has sunk when it comes to his home life. But I humour him, it's the least I can do.

"Gaz went to fetch a new game for her GameSlave2," I answer, the practised lie rolling smoothly, fluidly off my tongue. I've come to the conclusion that I can't tell dad about Gaz, not really. The first couple of times I tried to and each attempt failed spectacularly and usually ended up with one or both of us screaming. It's better this way.

"But what about family night out?" Dad demanded peevishly, obviously annoyed and frustrated that he couldn't speak to her himself, although it's doubtful at this point that he can recall he hasn't seen her in fourteen months.

"She said she wanted to go to Bloaty's Pizza Hog," is my usual response, the one I use every time dad suddenly has the urge to declare family night. It doesn't really matter where I say, dad never knew the kind of places that Gaz used to frequent and it's not like he actually follows through on any of these family trips he occasionally comes up with.

A flicker of awareness lights his eyes for the briefest of moments, like watching a spark plug jump to life behind thick glasses, and for a moment he looks like he's about to say something or cry, or maybe both. But then it fades again, dulling to the usual blank expression.

"Alright! Don't forget then! This Thursday it is, be ready for about 8." A short nod on my behalf and the conversation is over, the screen falling silent and blackness obliterating his digital image.

I sigh now, glancing around rather helplessly, realising again how deathly silent the house is now. I hate it like this. Sometimes I turn Gaz' GS2 on and let it play it's opening credits for several minutes, sometimes even hours, just to get rid of the stifling, suffocating silence that coats the house like a death shroud. Hmm, all this talk of death is depressing and I have more important things to focus on. Meandering to the couch I take a seat on the edge closest to the door, staring intently at the door, waiting till six, he always arrives at six on the dot, not a minute late or early. But I wish he was early today because the silence is getting to me. I'm not going to turn on the Game Slave though, then he might hear it and get even more upset. I don't know why, I only listen to it, I don't play it or touch it in any other way.

To keep my mind off the expressive quiet I force my thoughts in another direction, namely the spark of awareness in dad's eyes today. I'm glad it's still there, I hadn't seen it for over two months, I was beginning to think he had lost all awareness altogether. It's much shorter than the flashes he used to have though. The first time he contacted me via the hover screen he actually switched from awareness to incoherence for the whole conversation, sometimes understanding that she... Other times complaining plaintively that he hardly ever saw her anymore. I explained everything to him when I first told him Gaz was dead, he never blamed me but occasionally in those flashes I see an anger and hatred so deep it even matches my own guilt.

Gosh dad, really wish I could help you out on that one, honest I do, but if I die then Gaz goes with me, who else will be there to bring her back to life? She'll be just another moss covered grungy tombstone with a inscribed verse that would have meant nothing to her in life and means even less to everyone in death.

A loud banging at the door interrupts my thoughts suddenly and I nearly fall over the arm of the couch as I was leaning on it in my surprise, righting myself hastily, eyes blinking uncertainly, feeling suddenly timid.

"STINKBEAST!! OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

Oh right. Zim. Yeah like I'm gonna go over there and open the door for him to just waltz in. And I already saw to it he can't get in by himself, the security systems I built in are selective but won't allow him to fully enter the building alive. I had to build it after the first couple of weeks when I didn't eat anything and collapsed; later I was told Zim had bought me in after finding me and had bought me to the hospital. Unfortunately that wasn't all he'd done. When I got back I went into the lab and discovered a wreck, he'd destroyed the section of the lab I'd been working in, had smashed the stasis chamber that held my first attempt to reanimate my sister, essentially killing it. It was easy enough to move to a different section though and I had copies of all the information I'd taken and could start over much faster this time. What I had done after that was to install a complex security system, mostly human design but with some Irken designs that I swiped from his gnomes. I don't throw him off the property anymore but he does know not to attempt to break in.

"PLEASE?! Dib-worm, I know you're upset but you HAVE to come out, this isn't healthy!"

Huh, pleading already. Normally he tries to goad me into leaving the house or opening the door first. I guess he's worried that around a month ago I stopped even yelling back at him, probably isn't even sure whether I'm alive or dead now.

Quietly I slide noiselessly off the couch and sidle slowly to the door, edging closer until I could sink down next to it, resting my cheek against the wooden surface, need warring with fear. I don't want to let Zim get to me, he might make me abandon Gaz if I allow him access to the house but it's so hard to resist his attentions, I still can't figure out why he's still so determined to keep me alive and to take care of me but I'm not complaining, at least one life form on this planet isn't furious at me or out for blood. And I stopped caring about his origins months ago, I don't really want to acknowledge that only an alien gives a damn about me anymore, that'd be just too depressing. I wish the Gaz clones were pleased to be around me but most of the time I have to content myself with silently watching them from the bottom of the stairs while they play the GS2 or eat pizza in the living room, normally it's sort of dangerous to get much closer without very good reason.

"Dib?"

I started at the soft voice, jerking my head back as the single word sounded so close. More so it sounded desolate, hopeless, uncertain and afraid. All emotions I wouldn't have immediately associated with Zim, I guess he really does think I'm dead. Insanely I want to open the door and reassure him that I'm fine, that I've just been a little preoccupied the last few weeks. Instead I settle for answering him verbally.

"Zim?"My voice sounds oddly weak, disused I suppose.

"Dib... you're okay, thank the Tallest..."

I can't help but smile at his sincere relief and awe that laces his voice. It's odd to think we used to be enemies, I don't know if he's actually given up trying to take over the planet or if it's currently under his rule and he just takes intermediate breaks to come take care of me but oddly I no longer mind either way, I have him for ten minutes every day, I'm happy with that.

He's talking easily now, updating me on everything that has happened in the outside world, his speech occasionally punctuated by pleas for me to come to my senses or let him help. I don't bother responding to these and he doesn't seem to mind for each time he carries on afterwards. I can't really pay attention to what he's saying though, the words seem to flow into one another and instead I listen to the fluctuations, pauses and tones in his voice, it's oddly soothing to listen to someone who genuinely cares for you, I haven't had attention like this from anyone since before mom left. It's so soothing in fact I begin to feel dangerously sleepy. Dangerous not because it will leave me vulnerable, after all the security will protect me but in the moments between consciousness and sleep, I wouldn't be able to prevent the memories returning.

"Oh Dib, it wasn't your fault..."

The words, spoken in such a soft, sympathetic voice, feels like an electrical jolt to my system, a freezing, rousing splash of reality. I'm not angry that he's bought this up, sometimes he does, he seems to read my thoughts on occasion. But being taken by surprise means I had no time to create diversions, defences....

Memories wash over me like waves of the enormous body of water Zim fears so much, crashing against my mind, knocking away any resistance until I am faced only with my memories.

It really is you know....

And it is, it's MY fault. Gaz shouldn't have been there, she certainly shouldn't have been shot and killed, all of this, EVERYTHING! It's all because of me......