7/21/02-Finally!! About time FFN got back up. I was suffering severe fic withdrawal. And now I've got over a hundred fics to sort through, huzzah O_o. Anyway, this's been up at my website (http://crimsonobsession.envy.nu/Index.html) for a while, but if you haven't seen it, well then it's new to you! A little bit of angsty slash goodness for ya. And thanks to the people that still review my other fics, I never expected to keep getting feedback. I loveded you all! I loveded yooou! Oh, and a very special thanks to my very first flamer! I was wondering why people weren't writing me hateful anti-slash messages, figured I was doing something wrong XD. I'll leave you to read this bit of nonsense while I forge through FFN's newest fics...bring the pain!

Disclaimer (Don'tcha love these?): Invader Zim belongs to the Almighty Thinnest Jhonen Vasquez, and his army of doom-sporks, and the sentient dust- bunnies at Nickelodeon. Aw, aren't they cute? [squish] I do this only out of my deep love for these ingenious characters.

SLASH WARNING: Just in case you haven't noticed the fifteen or so times I've said it, this is SLASH, sweet sweet Zim+Dib love. You don't like, you don't have to read. Now if I came over to your house, tied you to a chair, and nailed your eyelids to your brows, THEN things'd be different, but I haven't so at the moment you're free to not read.

Any reviews you give to me will pleeeee-ase Pustulio! Flames will be treated with the same loving care you would expect from Nny, and any survivors will be fed to my pet Velociraptor.
________

What You Really Need
________

-You won't ever amount to much
You won't be anyone
Now tell me what you were thinking of
How could you think you would be enough
It's not that you have stayed too long
And it's not that you've done something wrong
It's not your fault
That you embarass us all

You're a hand me down
It's better when you're not around
You feel good and you look like you should
But you won't ever make us proud-
-"Hand Me Down", Wallflowers-

Chapter One

"...Wow."

All around him metal glinted. Screens flashed alien script, blinked with multi-colored lights. Machinery hummed on a pitch that set his teeth on edge. Massive silver tubes snaked through the ceiling; every few minutes one would twist and move on some secret errand then settle back into place.

Dib stared, his amber eyes huge behind the lenses of his glasses. He'd never made it that deep into Zim's lab before. He'd been trying for years, through elementary skool and up into hi skool, but security, the insane robot, or Zim always managed to find him after only going down a few levels.

He glanced around for sign of the alien but, finding none, he proceeded to not waste the opportunity. His spy camera practically flew into his hands. Its flash lit up the dim, purple-hued lab as he snapped photo after incriminating photo. He went through several rolls before putting the camera away, drawing his trenchcoat in closer to ward off the chill of the recycled air, and turning his attention to the consoles surrounding him.

Through hacking he had already managed to get some examples of Irken writing out of the network of Zim's computers. He had been working on deciphering them and learning the written language; Zim was already well ahead of him on that account, and Dib had been eager to cut that lead. But he had only just begun in his study, and could recognize very little of the strange lettering covering the lab.

Not being able to read much, he did what any normal person would in such a situation - began randomly pushing buttons.

At first none of them produced noticeable results. Though, as he thought about it, he realized the equipment upstairs could've been going crazy by now. For all he knew this big red button could make the lawn gnomes fire lasers at random passing squirrels, or that pink one might make the kitchen sink explode with Jello. A few of them changed the video screens lining the walls, but nothing noteworthy happened until he pressed a large purple circle in the center of the console.

A beeping noise assailed his ears. His eyes darted about the lab, and he hoped Zim hadn't heard it. The massive vid screen in the center of the wall went blank, and a moment later Irken writing appeared, with what he recognized as numbers counting down below it. The word looked familiar, something he'd seen often. As the numbers clicked closer to whatever climax they'd reach he struggled to remember what the word meant.

"...'Transmitting'! That's it!" No sooner had the triumphant cry left his mouth, than the screen flashed black, the Irken logo in stark red in the center. Suddenly he was staring at two of the tallest, thinnest beings he'd ever seen reclining against straightbacked seat...things, in front of an obviously alien setup of computers and, well, more aliens.

What is it now, Zim? I thought we told you only once an Earth year." Without even looking at the screen, the tall creature with red eyes leaned over to the other. "Do you know what an Earth year is? It couldn't be that short could it?" it said in what was probably supposed to be a whisper. But the one with purple eyes was staring at the screen.

"Hey, that's not Zim!"

The one Dib's mind had already dubbed Red stared as well, brows raised with curiousity. "Huh, so it isn't. So what IS it?"

The purple-eye, Purple, shrugged. "How'm I supposed to know. Hey!" He pointed at Dib. "What are you?"

"Uh..."

"Must be a native. Boy, Zim wasn't kidding, that's one stupid looking species!"

"Yeah, and ugly too! Look at that stuff on its head...assuming that is its head. And what's that thing on its face?

Looks like a Blorch rat's nose!" Both aliens stared at him for a second, then burst out laughing.

"Hey!" Dib shouted. "My nose doesn't look like a Blorch rat's! ...What the hell is a Blorch rat?!"

They started laughing again, and Dib crossed his arms and stood there, fuming, waiting for them to get over it. These guys were worse than Zim!

"Wait wait wait..." He held his hands up as a thought came to him. "You guys are Zim's leaders?"

They started to calm down, and Red wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. "Regretfully."

"Regretfully?"

"You HAVE met him, right? Would you want that shrimp constantly bugging you?" Purple spoke up.

"Well he DOES actua-"

"He's a nuisance! We've tried to get rid of him time and time again, but he's too stupid to take a hint, even when we throw it in his face. We've sent him off-planet, we've banished him to the farthest, greasiest corners of the universe, hell, we even sent him to you guys, hoping you'd get rid of him for us! And why haven't you yet? What're you waiting for! You can't possibly be stupider than him, you should've taken care of him ages ago."

Dib's jaw dropped. "Wait...you just sent him here to get rid of him?"

Red sipped at some sort of drink, distracted. "Well we couldn't keep him around here. He screws up everything, best to let him screw up something unimportant...or to let him get killed, whichever comes first."

"Personally I'd prefer the killing one," Purple grinned. "Though it was kinda amusing at first. Heh, I remember that one time, with the moose."

Red burst out laughing, a sound that grated on Dib's ears. "When he'd taken his robot to that animal jail place, and the stupid thing had let the moose out? And that thing decided it liked the taste of his antennae, and chased him all the way back to the base! He was practically covered in moose-drool! That was so rich!!"

Purple snickered, seemed to be trying hard not to join the other in riotous laughter. "Yeah, it was actually kinda fun with him thousands of light years away. But the novelty wears off real fast. And he's so SHORT! I mean just look at that height! He's an embarassment! Should've never come out of the hatcheries in the first place."

"And this planet?" Dib asked.

"What planet, Earth? Why would we want a spinning ball of filth like that?"

"Hey!" Dib began to protest, then thought better of it. Suddenly he had to hold back the bitter laughter that wanted to strike. All his struggle, all their fighting, and Zim's own leaders seemed to despise him even more than Dib! Uncharacteristically, he reveled in the irony. "So what you're saying is...you never expected him to capture Earth in the first place, and you wish he was dead?"

The two aliens exchanged a look. "Yeah, that's pretty much-" Purple started, but Red, who had been looking off to the side while Dib wasn't watching, nudged Purple with a spindly elbow. "Hey! What?!" the other alien growled, but then followed Red's gaze. Both were frowning now, Purple wringing his hands -fingers?- as if nervous. Dib felt a flush rush to his cheeks as he realized what they had to be looking at.

"...Zim?" The tiny alien was standing in the entrance Dib had just come in minutes before. His hands clenched so tightly at his sides that the leather-like material of his gloves squeaked. The sensitive antennae were folded back against his head and his eyes were dark, seething. Without a word he stalked over to the console, gave his leaders a glare that Dib was surprised didn't burn a hole in the vid screen, and slammed one fist on the purple button. The screen went black, and he placed both hands on the console and leaned on it, shoulders tense as steel, dangerously silent.

A full minute passed, then another, until Dib couldn't take it any more. "Zim..."

"Get out." The words were almost inaudible, the voice thin and strained.

"Zim, I-"

"GET OUT!" The alien whirled on him, screamed till his voice cracked, "Get out get out GET OUT!"

Dib flinched, nearly fell backwards. He'd never seen such rage in the alien's eyes, heard such hatred in his voice. He started to back towards the door but couldn't make himself leave. As if sensing this, Zim took the decision out of his hands, snatched some sort of laser out of a drawer that opened in the console and pointed it straight at him.

"Get...out."

Without a word, Dib left.
__________

Once the human had left Zim let the gun fall, ignored the clatter as it hit the floor and a piece of the shell broke off with the impact. His mind raced but he felt suddenly empty. He wanted to believe it was all a lie, that the Dib had manipulated his computers somehow, had fabricated the whole conversation to achieve the very effect it was having now. He couldn't fathom that they felt that way, his whole being depended on the lie! But he couldn't believe it a lie, no matter how much he wanted to. Even he could see the truth of it, the blaring, blinding, mind-shattering truth.

It was a truth he'd been afraid of for some time, he realized that now. His subconscious had refused to let him see it, but somewhere inside he'd known. Had known how much they hated him, how much they despised him, how very much they did not care. And why not? Because he was an imbecile. A nuisance. A tiny, insignificant waste of life.

Because he was useless.

Slender, black-gloved fingers danced over a brightly lit console, touched key points, causing the readouts to shift. New windows opened, displaying symbols, ratios, percentages in his native writing. They would give him the chances of success for this, his final undertaking. The probability was low, but then success had never come easily to Zim.

In fact, it had never come at all. He had given up on waiting for it. He would have everything now; now, or he would fail as he had so many times in the past, and his worthless existence would be over. No more trying to keep up, no more overenthusiastic attempts to garner the respect he'd craved for so long, respect without which everything was as useless as he had become, had always been. His resolve had been hardened, and retreat into failure was not in his programming.

The touch of a few more buttons and splotchy cells and DNA sequences started to spread across the screen. He worked fervently, his nimble fingers flying over keyboards. He ran from one side of the room to the other, typing in commands and checking calculations. Hours went by without him slowing his pace, stopping for nourishment or rest. Once GIR came in, only to be snapped at in a tone which sent the little bot running back upstairs. Zim didn't even notice the tears leaking from the cyan eyes.
_____

Zim didn't know how long he'd been down there. It could've been hours, it could've been days. It could've been even longer, Irkens didn't require the same level of sustenance and rest that other, inferior species did, allowing him the luxury of working without breaks in his concentration. GIR had poked his head in a few times since that first, but had ducked out almost immediately at the sight of his master.

The figures and readouts on the screen before him weren't perfect. There was risk in what he was attempting, great risk. He didn't care. If it failed his life would hardly be worth living. Perhaps it was the easy way out, something an invader should never settle for, but it had been made glaringly clear that he wasn't an invader, had only ever been in his own deluded mind.

"Computer." His voice was harsh, either from disuse or the screaming he'd done before. "Proceed."

For once the computer remained silent, not offering a sarcastic tone or spastic reaction as usual. There were simply a few minutes of quiet while it processed the formulas. A tube dropped down from the ceiling, deposited something into Zim's hand, then disappeared back into the tangle of metal above.

He stared at the large syringe sitting on his palm, metal and glass with a massive needle. It was filled with a roiling liquid, the key, his last chance at gaining the respect he needed, that was more vital to his existence than the air around him. With a shuddering sigh, he lifted his uniform shirt over his head, baring his green torso. Red filled his vision as he pulled the fabric over his eyes. Tossing it to the side, he picked up the needle from the console where he'd set it, took a deep breath, and jabbed it straight into his chest.

His eyes squeezed shut for a fraction of a second, then he forced himself to relax, to ignore the sensation of metal piercing flesh. When it was deep enough he pressed the end, and watched the liquid drain itself into his body. An Earth saying popped into his mind-

Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger...

...And then the pain came.
_____

Dib loved his ceiling. Black, with UFO posters and small doodles of cartoonish aliens on it; the part over the bed was covered with photographs reflecting his greatest obsession - Zim, in various poses, places, and moods. A small smile quirked the corner of Dib's mouth.

For years Zim had been there, the one constant in his world. The alien had become his interest, his purpose, his life. Their constant fighting was the high point of every day, the chance to test wits against him the best reason to get out of bed in the morning. The grudging respect he'd practically had to beat out of Zim was nearly as important to Dib as the reknown his capture would bring.

Dib started counting the plastic glow-in-the-dark stars that dotted the ceiling, willing himself to sink into the blankets on his bed. They were so comfortable, it almost let him forget the problems at hand. Capture. That's what it had all been for, the eventual capture of the alien threatening the planet and the respect Dib had earned years ago. But if he wasn't a threat? The alien's own leaders weren't about to help him take over Earth, and without help where would he be? He couldn't take over by himself, not with Dib there to stop him. Or could he?

Since the incident in the lab Zim had disappeared. He'd been absent from skool for three days. Even the other students were starting to notice. Not that any of them cared, aside from Dib, most were just curious about where their favorite little 'punching bag' had gone. Zim had claimed his lack of growth was a result of his skin condition, but illness didn't stop the others from picking on him every chance they got.

Dib had been by Zim's house several times a day, each time bringing a disturbing queasiness to his stomach that wouldn't fade until he saw the bright green monstrosity, proved to himself it was still there. He hadn't made it inside, though, and the possibilities of what was going on in there were eating away at him.

Zim was up to something. He knew it. Something big. Something drastic. Something that would probably mean heaps of badness for someone. What if he made another conquest attempt? Tried to take over out of spite, to get revenge on his leaders...and probably Dib, for that matter. Zim's perception of blame was often skewed, pointing directly at Dib no matter who was responsible. But with the mindset his leaders' callousness probably left him in, he might be desperate enough to succeed.

Or, looking at the opposite end of the spectrum, Zim might do something to himself. He didn't want to think about it, but the possibility was there. The alien had shown extreme loyalty to his mission in the past. Now that mission had been proven a sham and the leaders he followed so loyally had denied him his only purpose for being. He might-

The doorbell rang, over and over in a staccato beat. Dib instinctively jumped, knowing the doom that would befall him if he didn't answer it. Gaz had nominated him unofficial door-answering-type person, and was quick to punish instances of being lax on the job.

Boots clomping on the steps, he rushed downstairs and nearly collided with the wall. The doorbell had speeded its tempo and was ringing in quick succession. An irritated growl sounded from the kitchen, and Dib ripped open the door to reveal a tiny green puppy, poking the doorbell with its usual hyperactive reflexes.

"...GIR?"

"Yeeeeess?" The robot in disguise turned to Dib, grinned, then took a flying leap at him, wrapping its arms around his head. "I like you..."

"Uh...thanks. I like you too, I guess." He tried to pry the little bot off his face, without luck. What could Zim's crazy robot be doing at his house? Unless... "GIR, is something wrong?"

GIR put a hand to his mouth, looked thoughtful for a moment. "Master...master...um..."

Dib used the distraction to work GIR's arms off his head, and held the robot out in front of him. "What's wrong with your master, GIR?"

He finally smiled, his tiny pink tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. "I forgots!"

With a sigh and a roll of his eyes Dib set GIR down on the porch, then ran into the house to grab his trenchcoat. The unease that'd been hounding him since the incident flared up unexpectedly, and there was a sickly burning in the back of his skull. He shouted his destination to Gaz then dashed out into the crisp autumn air and down the street, hoping GIR would follow him, and dreading what he'd find when he got there.
_____

The labs were almost pitch-black. All lights, all screens and consoles, even the odd glow the ceilings usually emitted was gone. The only illumination was some sort of dim runner light along the bottom of the wall. Dib made his way through the same floor, the one with the giant vid screen, tried not to trip over the bits of machinery that lay about. He remained quiet, something in the chill air denying the intrusion of noise. It brought to mind a family trip he'd taken years ago, an excursion to the cave systems outside the city. In the largest chamber they had stopped the tour and turned off all the lights, leaving them in a sheer absence of sensation. As then, there was now only his heavy breathing, with twisting shadows looming in the darkness.

And suddenly there was something else, something that pricked the hair on the back of his neck and startled him into holding his breath. At first he couldn't figure it out, couldn't pinpoint the presence that he knew was there. Then a minute shuffling drew his attention to the door he remembered was on the opposite end of the massive room.

"Zim?" He'd meant it to be louder than the whisper it came out as. He took a deep breath then walked further into the darkness, into the room he'd so recently been forced at laser-point to vacate.

It was the same as the previous one, just as dark and cluttered. But the presence was there. Dib centered his senses on the darkest spot, in the middle of the room, straining his ears and eyes to make out what he could feel was there. A few times he thought he heard the merest hint of breathing. Finally, knowing he wouldn't learn anything from across the room, he made his way carefully around the equipment scattered about.

The breathing got louder as he came close, turned into a barely audible wheezing as he reached the pitch black center. "Zim? Is that you?"

A flash of muted red, reflective in the dark. Shuffling noises followed the presence's feeble movement away from him. The dim light at the far side of the room suddenly illuminated a figure, and Dib rushed to its side.
"Zim!" His first thought was of the tiny alien he'd expected. Immediately it switched, confused at the sight of the being before him. He was still almost impossible to see, but he was obviously not Zim, couldn't be. His height almost rivaled that of Dib, and for a moment he thought one of those alien leaders had inexplicably popped up out of nowhere.

Then Dib saw his eyes. The red orbs stared at him as if transfixed, then squeezed shut as the Irken grabbed his stomach in pain. But it was enough, he knew those eyes. He leaned in close, took in the familiar black pants, the bare chest, arms, feet, the green skin covered with a fine film of sweat. "Zim? It is you, isn't it?"

"Thought I..." The Irken's usually proud voice was strained, barely more than a whisper. "Thought...I told you...to get...out," he managed around heaving breaths.

"Since when have I ever taken orders from you?"

Zim struggled to stand up, only to fall back against the wall, hitting his head with a dull thump. Dib rushed to his side, held a hand against his back and helped him sit up; the skin of his back was burning hot under Dib's hand. He got a closer look at the dark purple circles under the eyes, the pale, almost white skin, the shallow, hurried breathing, the drooping antennae and the purplish flush around Zim's cheeks.

"Geez Zim, what..." Instinctively he laid the back of his other hand across the alien's sweat-slicked forehead, and jumped when he discovered it was nearly cold enough to burn. "What the hell did you do?!"

Zim's angry gaze only lasted a moment before his eyes squeezed shut again and he fell to the floor, curled up as a violent shiver raced through his body. By the time it was done he was panting. "Not of your...concern," a grimace, "...human. Get...get..." he couldn't even finish before a third wave of agony rushed through him, sending him into spasms.

Terrified without knowing why, Dib did the only thing he could think to do. With surprising speed he grabbed Zim behind the neck and knees and lifted him off the ground. He was amazed at how light the Irken was. Zim tried to protest and struggle, but was immediately subdued by a coughing spell that left him barely conscious. He fell limp, only able to stare at the ceiling through half-lidded, fever dulled eyes.

"Uh...computer?" Dib tried tentatively, but received no answer. He hadn't really expected one since the base computer was monitored by voice sensitive security. At least it hadn't identified him as an intruder. As Zim's eyes slid slowly shut he panicked, and ran to the lift with the alien cradled in his arms.

The subdued purple light of the base's elevators nearly blinded him. This time the computer accepted his request to take them to house level, and when the lift opened he leapt into the living room. GIR was sitting on the couch watching TV, still in his dog costume. His eyes brightened the second he saw Dib, but he turned a nervous, uncertain gaze to his master lying in the Dib-human's arms.

"GIR, your master needs help. Can you help me?"

The bot jumped off the couch. "I can help good! What's wrong with master? Does he need a hug? I hug him and make him all better!"

"No GIR! He doesn't need a hug right now. Can you get me..." What? he wondered. What could he possibly do when he didn't know the first thing about the alien's physiology, or even what he'd done to himself? He pulled some bills out of his back pocket. "GIR, listen carefully. Go to the store and get an icepack, the kind with the gel, not water, and some blankets. Can you handle that?"

GIR saluted sharply, his eyes flashing red. "Yes Sir, right away Sir!" With his eyes cyan once again, the little bot ran squealing out the door.

Dib walked over to the couch and lay Zim's limp form across it gently. The alien was still out, without even a sign of his eyes moving behind his closed lids. He wondered if Irkens even had REM sleep, or if its absence was an effect of the fever-like unconsciousness.

After one last worried glance Dib set out to explore the house, looking for pillows or something that could be used as one, but a quick search turned up nothing. If the alien did sleep, he either didn't use bedding or he slept down in the labs. Frustrated, he finally folded his trenchcoat up and carefully put it under Zim's head, then sat on the floor to wait.

GIR came back faster than he'd expected, and startlingly enough, he'd brought exactly what he'd asked for. Dib tossed the icepack into the fridge for a few minutes, spread the blankets out over Zim, and when it was ready, brought the cold pack and laid it on Zim's burning chest. The Irken stirred for a moment, brows creasing as a small whimper escaped his throat, then settled back into a fitful sleep.

"Is master gonna be okay?"

Dib studied Zim. The purple circles were fading ever so slowly, and his skin was regaining the slightest hint of color. "I hope so, GIR. We just have to wait and see."

The robot ran up to Dib and hugged him tight around the legs. "Dib's gonna make master all better!" With that he turned and dashed out, only stopping at the door to say, "Take good care of him Dibby!" before jumping onto a motorcycle with a pig.

"I'm trying, GIR. I'm trying." He just wished he knew why.

With a sigh, he sat down to wait.
_____