Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim

Warnings: If you don't like slash, blood and stuff do not read. Not sure where this story is going, so I can't say how it will turn out. It could end up being the weirdest of all my writings, since my favorite holiday is coming up (Halloween) so we shall see O_o

authors rants: I really need to get back on my meds, curse you depression, curse you! I'm going to go cuddle up on the couch and watch some IZ now, I think a full day watching horror movies just makes me...insane...in a good way...is that possible?...put the knife down and slowly back away, oh wait that's a mirror...

Dib did nothing as Zim punched him in the gut and he doubled over. He grabbed a handful of the Dib's hair and yanked it back, peering down into his face.

"You're up to something Dib-worm, Zim can tell."

Dib only laughed and it sent chills down Zim's spine. He let go in disgust and shoved at the pathetic hyuuman.

"Get out."

"I'm serious Zim, all of it's yours. I don't need it anymore. If you don't want it then destroy it, throw it away, do whatever you want with it."

Dib shrugged, got up and left. He left all the equipment he had lugged over sitting on the floor, he really wasn't going to need it anymore. He made his way back home to the empty house. Dad was still away working on whatever new project had come along and Gaz was away somewhere for the weekend. She never tended to elaborate and he never cared to ask.

He was alone, always alone it seemed. It felt so oddly quiet and he stood for a moment in the silence. Dib felt at peace inside, after having made his decision. Sure there some pangs of regret, but what normal person didn't have those, even those who had lived a full life cycle.

Dib made his way to his room and sat down on his bed. His room felt bare, empty. He had taken all the photos of Zim and burned them, leaving no evidence. All his computer and software was now at Zims for the alien to do what he pleased with it. There would be no note, as he had nothing to say to his Dad or to Gaz. And no one else would care.

He turned the TV on, his favorite show Mysterious Mysteries was going to start soon. Dib took his coat off, laid it on his empty desk and sat back against the wall on his bed as the TV's glow fell over him, the only light within the room.

He had debated on how to do it. A gun just seemed too messy, and drugs to iffy. He clicked open the pocket knife and stared at the sharp edge a moment before he placed it against his wrist and pressed down hard as he pulled it across. He hissed with the pain, but it really wasn't all that bad. He'd taken worse during some fights with Zim. He held it up and watched the blood gush from the open wound, covering his arm. It all looked really fascinating. Switching hands he did the same thing to his other wrist.

The deed done he rested back against the wall as his show played, his blood pooling, soaking into his clothes, the bed. The room was getting colder and he shivered slightly knowing that it would pass soon. He sighed and closed his eyes, letting the darkness creeping on the edge of his vision take him. Finally, it was all over.