Aftermath

If you haven't read Last Kiss, read that before this. Or not, but you might not understand the circumstances as well if you haven't.

This story will begin with Zim at the crash site, and then, in the following chapters, it will build up the background up to that point. The next story in this series, following 'Aftermath', will be a chapter each of Zim, Dib, and Gaz's narration at the Funeral.

Alright, Responses for 'Last Kiss':

pinky-pseudonym—about the whole 'Hey, if we get married, you and I'll be brothers!' Line Zim says in 'Last Kiss', well, I was saying that Gaz and Zim were together, thus, if Zim and Gaz get married, he and Dib would be brothers-in-law. Also, I'm not so BRUTALLY CRITICAL about your fics, so please exercise a little tact in the future when reviewing mine, 'k?

flying metal child— I'm not certain what I'll end up doing with Dib yet, but you should know that I DO like this character, and am not currently planning to kill him off (Don't lose hope, I might change my mind), despite the hell I'm putting him through, and plan to put him through in the future. In fact, I'm planning on writing a different story where he has a happy relationship. After this series, though. I notice you have a macabre sense of humor? ROCK ON!

thejennamonster —As to Tara being a Mary-Sue….No, I'd rather be strung up by my colon and watch one of the slaughtering rat people gnaw on my lungs than write a character like that. Tara's an oddball, though you might not guess in the first few paragraphs she appears in. The Zim/Gaz-ness is going to be an quirky, slightly demented relationship at first, and Gaz is still more or less the abusive, scary game-nut we all know and love. The tips are much appreciated! (P.S. Love 'You Only Live Twice'! you have true talent for capturing emotion! )

ThePirateMonkeys— Glad you like! Cool name, btw! Nuttin' wrong with being a romantic, and here is the "More" you have requested!

snickers-03—OMG! I am in the presence of greatness! I love your work and I'm so glad you liked mine! There will be much more Zim-ness and Gaz-ness to come! Keep up the great work on your fics!!

invada-zim-luva—Thankees! The inspiration actually came looking through an old middle-school notebook, filled with Jhonen Vasquez stuff, and song lyrics from the nineties! So sue me, I didn't pay attention in Geography!

Chaos-CAT1—Special thanks to you for giving me the feedback inspiration to make a sequel!

This story is mostly from Zim's perspective, and consists mainly of flashbacks. I may decide to make a different story going into more detail with the past, or I may not, I'm still tossing that around in my demented little mind. I appreciate any reviews that are more than useless, insulting twaddle, and I thank my current reviewers, and welcome any suggestions. I do not own Invader Zim, or much other than this outdated mobile computer,

When we have words in brackets ( ) after the story returns to the past, that means Zim is making comments of his memories.

Without further ado…….

88888888888888 Chapter one- A Truce? 88888888888888888888

I've never seen a dead human creature before. I wish Tara hadn't had to be the first one. The stupid human filth wouldn't let me get through to them, so at the time I just figured 'screw it' and used the extendibles on my pak. Nobody noticed. In this town, no one notices anything. Ask Dib, he was one of the things they overlooked.

That was when I saw them. The accident had occurred near my ba…near my house. Not my base anymore, at least, not in the world conquest way. I saw the crowd, then the appalling wreck of their vehicle.

Now I'm looking at a broken man, holding a broken body in his arms. At eighteen, Dib's finally endured too much, I can see that much in his eyes.

On Irk, there is nobody to mourn the dead; nobody even sees the dead if it is avoidable. The shortest, most worthless Irkens dispose of the bodies before they can disrupt anything. Irk forbid that the system be disrupted in any way, that people should see the faces of their fallen comrades and, in that spirit of heresy, perhaps show some emotion! My people never really knew much about family, friendship…or love.

But Dib doesn't act as my former people did. He can't just say 'hey, if they're gone, they're gone, I've got work to do'. That's just not the way of these people. I almost can't stand it hearing him calling her name, begging her to come back. He sounds like a child, and like a child, he begs not to be left alone.

Tara was a good girl, one of the least revolting of the earth filthies… and I bet you're wondering how this all started? Well, it all began early in seventh grade….

------------------------------------ Seventh Grade ------------------------------------

I'm tired of being their fool. Along with my resignation from the Irken empire, I sent the Tallest a nice little gift: A nifty little worm. Irken technology has encountered many things, but not a human computer virus! Filthy beasts are good for something, I guess! I don't need them for I AM ZIM!

It's time for school, and I decided to go, mostly out of habit.

Boring boring boring.

All Mrs. Despot talks about is how we're all going to end up alone, while our spouses rot under ground, She goes into excruciatingly morbid detail, and my squeedly-spooch churns at the disgusting tale of maggots and rigor-mortis. Mrs. Despot is Ms. Bitters's sister, widowed, and even more frightening, which explains why she teaches a higher grade: the younger dirt children would have been leaking from their various orifices after five seconds in her presence. Ms Bitters liked to talk about doom, but she wasn't as descriptive as she might have been. Mostly for the cryptic effect.

I looked to the side. The Dib was in the same row as I am, front, and this year, only one empty desk separates us. I wonder why it's empty. Notice my sarcasm.

Currently, The Dib-beast is being pelted with spitballs and erasers from Torque, Chunk, and The Letter M. I almost feel sorry for him. I've been quiet today, so he has nothing to comment on. You'd think that would cause the other earth-stinkies to leave him alone, but it's actually the opposite.

By the time lunch passes, he even sports a few bruises.

At recess, he finally sought me out.

"Alright, Zim. What are you up to?"

"Obviously, I'm reading." I held up the book, The Stars in Shroud by Gregory Benford.

"No..Evil plan?" He seemed almost disappointed.

"I hate to disappoint you, Dib-monkey, but there won't be anymore evil plans. Not unless someone really pisses me off." I looked around, "But they know better! I AM ZIM!"

"Huh?" his jaw dropped.

"I've… um, had a…falling out of sorts with my leaders. Basically, I…quit. So, no more world domination. Not until I have a good reason. If I'm not taking over the Earth, which really isn't worth the effort of conquest anyway, then we aren't really enemies, are we? Unless you're that thirsty for my DELICIOUS –delicious, so delicious—blood candies." Yah, I was a bit of a spaz back then.

"I…guess not… So…is this a truce?" He sat down, hard.

Had I an eyebrow, I'd be raising it now. "Unless you've got someone better to hang out with."

He stared, suspicious, then, hesitantly, held out a hand. "Shake on it. I want you to realize that if you go back on this, you'll be a liar."

I took it, snorting. "Of the things I have retained, my honor is the greatest. I really don't even have much of a purpose to remain on this fffillllthy planet, let alone deceive you."

He nodded, seeming to finally understand. "Alright… friends, then?"

"If you must put a name to it, Dib-stink. " I sighed. We shook hands. "How the mighty have fallen."

"What, you consider yourself mighty?" He asked mockingly.

"No, I referred to how the tallest have probably crashed into some useless planetoid by now."

"Huh?"

After I explained that, one topic led to another, and suddenly we were telling each other out life stories. Odd, that we changed gears so quickly, but at that point, we were very much alike: Outcasts, lonely, misunderstood, and each passionate about whatever we chose to devote ourselves to. One thing we could each count on the other to do, even when we had been enemies, was something nobody else did: We took each other seriously. So I guess we had the makings of friendship even when we hated each other.

Alright, there's chapter one, Chappie two occurs the next day, and this is where Tara comes in. Sorry so short, but this chapter is laying out the framework for following chapters.