The sun was too hot as per usual in the nameless little town, the grass dry and nearly brown, leaves long dead floating across the ground as if reluctant to touch it fully and yet the wind just kept carrying it along until it got stuck on some long forgotten piece of gum or crushed underfoot of one useless bumbling teenager or another.

Dib was almost content sitting in the heated afternoon or at least that what he resolutely told himself. With his girl friend leaning on his chest, hands around her waist and sipping on poop cola, he was feeling almost complete. Almost like he could lose himself in the normalcy of it all and forget for a little bit that his life was all but falling apart at the seams now.

Key word; almost. Because even as Gretchen blabbered about something meaningless and normal, he felt it. The shivery sensation of being watched. Of big, false eyes that probed the edges of this monotone dream that was too good to be true. They were following his every move, silently mocking the easy way he smiled, poking fun at the way he pretended to be enjoying himself. On instinct the teenager's eyes roved the trees around them, searching for green skin, pink clothes.

Dib shook his head, trying to shake the feeling off. Zim wasn't watching him. Zim was gone. Zim wasn't real. This, he thought holding the girl closer, was real. She giggled and he hated to think it but the high pitch got on his nerves, scratched them raw. It wasn't low, building into a tremulous crescendo that echoed off any surface, daring to stand out in even the loudest conditions. It wasn't cruel or promising unbearable agony. It was most certainly not supernatural, layered with arrogance and pure loneliness, distrust.

No, it was cute, sweet and delicate. His stomach rolled but he kissed her neck anyway and felt the imaginary gaze sharpen on the action. And as predicted it made Dib feel guilty and more edgy.

"Dib?" He pulled himself out of the haze he was in to focus on the purple hair, the big innocent eyes, and now braceless teeth. Yes, she was pretty indeed with smooth skin and a smattering of freckles.

"Mm? Oh, sorry. I –uh was just thinking." Gretchen studied her boyfriend's face with the expertise of years. She noted the small things like the stress lines, the uncertainty in his eyes, the defensive way he held his shoulders and knew.

"About…Zim." Just saying the name had the girl feeling ill. Dib bit his lip nervously and that's all the assurance she needed. Pulling away from her boyfriend, she stood with a huff and crossed her arms. "Dib. This is getting ridiculous. It's been three years. I would've thought you'd forgotten about that by now."

His brow furrowed, kind of grateful that she'd been the one to pull away. It would've only angered her more to know he'd been thinking about making an excuse about needing space or something. "I-I can't help it sometimes, Gretch. It's just…I swear that sometimes he just feel so—"

"Real." She finished, eyes narrowing to see the way Dib's gaze went far away as it always did when he thought about that creep. "Yeah, I know. Zita knows. Your dad knows. The whole fucking town knows, Dib! But, he's not. He never was. You've been told this hundreds of times before. Why doesn't it just sink in?" Maybe she was asking too much of him, but Gretchen had had it. Being with Dib was all she'd ever really wanted. But, this was impossible. Impossible to be with a guy who was thinking of someone else all the time.

Dib stayed on the ground, picking up a twig to twirl it in between his fingers. "Five years, Gretchen. Five years of my life I spent thinking he was real, being hurt by him and hating his guts—"

"But, it wasn't him, Dib! It was a figment. It was you hurting yourself with sticks like that and knives and hating nothing other than a demented thought. You made Zim to not be so lonely. You created Zim to feel better about yourself Dib. But, he was never real. He'll never be real and you're going to have to wake up and realize that if you can't let him go then you're going to miss out on some good opportunities." With that Gretchen, sniffled and turned to jog away through the park to get home before she burst out sobbing. Man it was hard having a psycho for a boyfriend.

Dib watched her go, not even opening his mouth to try to stop her. It was useless anyway when she got like this. He cracked the stick in his hands in two before dropping it into the dead grass. He shut his eyes, trying to make himself believe it. Trying once again to not feel the devious gaze that bore into him from afar. Always from afar. Why was it so hard to forget the alien? To understand that he was part of an illusion his younger self had created to try to bring some self worth to an otherwise horrible life.

But, for five years he'd believed with everything inside of his small body that there was an alien invader in their midst. But, when he'd went to spy on Zim's house and found nothing…no evidence that anything had ever been there. No trace of paint or any disturbed dirt. No message, no note of goodbye. Just gone. It had been the worst day of his life. He'd been cationic, utterly inconsolable. Finally they just submitted him to the Crazy House for Boys and left him for a year or so. After many, many hours of counseling they finally dragged what had to be the truth out of him; Zim wasn't real. Aliens didn't exist.

'But, what about these scars?' Dib had asked, trying to find some loophole. Self mutilation they'd said. Delusional hallucinations.

'Everyone else saw him too. Everyone else knew Zim as the crazy green kid.' They'd searched the records and said that someone named that had gone to skool. But, he was certainly not green skinned or short.

Dib had no arguments and he had no proof. Zim, the biggest part of his childhood was a farce. It'd been three years and he could almost go a day without glancing at his cameras to try to catch a glimpse of the place where the house used to be, could almost sit in skool without looking across the room to meet disguised eyes and most of the time his dreams were of normal things.

He leaned his head on his knees, glasses skewing. So why did Dib feel as if something was missing? A large empty spot in his chest, his memories and knowledge. They said that he made Zim up. Could he have made up something so intricate? The Irken armada, their plans for universal conquest, a whole disguise, a house, a creepy green dog, their battles and their banter. Somehow he didn't think so.

"Not real. Not real. Not real." The words they'd tried to hard to drill into his mind. He opened his eyes and stared into the dense trees around them. It had gotten dark without his notice and the moon was full, allowing enough light to see the clearing he was in. Shivering, Dib moved to stan—a flash of magenta in the darkness of the dead foliage. He gasped, and took a frantic step forward when any normal person would be stepping backwards.

Immediately he stopped himself. "Not real. Not real." Dib held himself in place, ears still perked however for any noise. A small shuffle, the sound of snapping twigs. "Zim?" He yelled before he could process just what he was doing. A hand slapped over his own mouth to make sure he didn't talk anymore. This was ridiculous. Screaming in the dark at trees. Oh not to mention it was a full moon. People were going to be talking tomorrow.

With a shuddery sigh, Dib glanced only once more at the forest before turning to walk home. Grass crunched underfoot, the sound nerve rackin-"Leaving so soon, Dib-Thing?"

Dib froze, heart beating so incredibly loud in his ears he was sure that it could be heard from miles around. That voice…it was so familiar. The nickname even more so. Demeaning and mocking. Oh, how he'd missed the sound of it. Dib didn't dare turn around, even though the feel of Irken eyes kept him nearly immobile anyhow. "Not real. Not real…" He whispered harshly, hands clutching into fists. "Not—"

"Zim is real." The voice came so much closer this time, nearly right behind him that it had the teenager spinning on his heels, reaching for something, anything to grab onto. To even touch that hallucination, to know that he wasn't insane. But, he dropped to the ground instead, fingers digging into nothing but the brown grass, the dirt getting under his nails.

The world was silent then; no more shuffling, no more voice and Dib's face crumbled, tears streaming down his cheeks to fall to the dusty earth where it soaked it up desperately. For a minute…he'd almost believed.