The first snow of the year came exceptionally late at halfway through December, but now it had yet to stop. Sometimes it was a sparkling haze, sometimes fat globs, and sometimes there were wide gaps between flakes, but never once did it fully quit. Dib could hear roofs groaning under the weight of it, and a fresh layer of salt crunched under his boots as he meandered along the sidewalk.
The first half of his senior year was already over. So many other things were over, too: listening to the football schedule on the student announcements each morning, being badgered by his father about attending Homecoming to appear somewhat normal, kicking at fall leaves as he crossed the blacktop when the day was through. Watching Zim scoff at each and every fall festivity, knocking pumpkin spice lattes out of people's hands and ironically boarding up his neon house of horrors at Halloween.
Dib shook his head, in part to rid his hair of snow as he entered his home. He tugged off his soaking boots and heaved a sigh; he promised himself he'd quit thinking about that stupid alien. After what he'd pulled, he should never be more of a distraction in Dib's mind than a passing gnat.
Besides, he had college to think about. Admittedly, he had started thinking about it a little late—several of his classmates had gone on college visits over the summer and already had their plans squared away. Yet, here he was, not even sure what he wanted to major in.
That was why he was taking a winter break road trip. After Christmas, he'd head out on his own for the remainder of break, giving him a full week and a half to drive around the country visiting schools. He was surprised his father let him do it, since he'd only had his license for a year and a half. But the professor had been overjoyed that his son was finally concentrating on the pursuit of "real life" and, just maybe, "real science"—and he'd equipped Dib with the latest GPS technology and a cell phone to help him do it.
Dib entered his room and flopped down on his back on the bed. He should have gone to his computer to research more schools he'd like to visit, but he wasn't in the mood. Then he remembered how itchy and uncomfortable he'd gotten from the wet snow soaking through his clothes and sat back up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He planted the false one on the stained carpet and hiked up his jeans as high over his left knee as they would go. He pulled down the tight sock, like spandex, but softer, and untied some lacing so the prosthetic could fall free. At last he was able to scratch at the stump of his thigh, the scar tissue blushing to a darker hue as it warmed with irritation from the long nails of his right hand.
Next came the arm. He took off his trench coat; wearing only the t-shirt underneath would make the process easier. Much like his leg, he pulled down the soft, elastic sock, untying laces where he needed to. The arm came free, and he leaned it against his bedside table next to his leg. He itched that tissue back to life, too.
Dib was eager for Christmas, if nothing else. His father had hinted there were some better prosthetics in the works. And maybe even some special, super-advanced ointment to help lighten the scarring around his face and neck. Or at least minimize the infernal itching.
"Shit," Dib sighed. "Hey, Gaz!"
"What?" his sister called apathetically from her room across the hall.
"It's time for my pain meds, but I forgot to grab them," he said.
"You already took yourself apart like a moron, didn't you?" she groaned. He was silent, which she thankfully took as confirmation, and he soon heard her footsteps—or stomps, rather—moving up the hallway to the bathroom. Then she was a shadow in his doorway with a pill container and a glass of water in hand.
"Thanks," Dib said, taking the water glass. "Uh, sorry, can you open the bottle? You have to press down and turn, so…"
She scoffed but held the bottle in one hand and cranked the lid off with the other. A simple, thoughtless action. She handed it to him.
"Thanks," he repeated, quieter. He shook a single tablet out onto his nightstand, tossed it into his mouth, and chased it down with the lukewarm water.
"Anything else?" she questioned, hands on her hips. Even though she was moody as ever, she had gained a slightly greater level of patience with her brother since the incident.
"Nah, I'm okay. Let me know if you order pizza later?"
"Sure, whatever," she said, exiting his room. She must be a little bit happy, he thought, because unless he bothered to put on his prosthetics again, she'd have the downstairs TV all to herself for the night. He almost smiled as his head fell back against the wall. The medicine always made him drowsy.
A/N: Heyo! It's my first time posting to FF in a long time and MAN did I forget how weird the upload system can be! On my first try this chapter was all HTML and I was like "that is NOT very cash money of you, FF."
Hope you guys like this. I have the story pretty much written so I'll be putting new chapters up pretty regularly. Leave your thoughts in the reviews or ask me questions if you want! I love getting to talk Zim-it was my favorite cartoon for a long time (still is, honestly). ALSO I'M HECKIN PUMPED FOR THE MOVIE. K, I'm done, see ya later.