**Author's Note**

So. I have received some beautiful feedback from you the readers and so here is a revised version. This story gave me quite a bit of hassel over the weeks spent mulling it over and actually attempting to write it… but here it is, chapter uno completed and ready for your criticism. Enjoy, my lads and lassies.

He sat, eyes locked on the camera set before him, feeling the burn on his wrists from when he had fought the handcuffs locked tightly around them. The room was empty, save for the chair he was secured to and the camera on its tripod. Behind him was a door and a mirrored window through which he knew he was being observed. The walls were of simple off-white plaster over concrete blocks, the floor smooth, flecked cement. The ceiling was made of cheap tile panels resting on crosshairs of support. He was slightly unnerved by the four small sprinklers set between the sunken lights on the ceiling.

He watched the red light pulsing slowly on the top of the camera and wondered what it meant. Was it on, or on standby? He didn't know much about the technology here. Who was watching the feed? Why was he even here, in the hands of these.. creatures. These aliens. What did they want with him?

He had been here what he safely assumed to be two days, fixed to this chair with no contact, food, or rest. They had caught him three days ago and questioned him mercilessly the first day, threatening him with physical punishment if he did not comply with their needs. He glanced over his shoulder at the mirrored window, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. His face alone bore the marks of their beatings; a swollen, bruising eye, split lip, and lacerations across his cheeks. He flicked his antenna and felt a twinge of numb pain through one that had been crumpled at some point. He was always so careful about his antenna, too. So protective.

The invader looked back to the camera, his crimson eyes narrowed to slits. Perhaps they were trying to break his spirit, or weaken him, and he refused to let on how tired and hungry he was. While his PAK sustained him whereas he did not require sleep, he still needed to rest his body and mind for a few hours each night to regenerate his energy, much like humans do but in a more literal way.

A sound behind him broke his stare-off with the camera lens. He glances over his shoulder again, watching as an agent stepped inside and showed in a familiar human. He narrowed his eyes further.

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"Agent Mothman?"

"What?" Dib mumbled into the phone as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. Glancing at his watch he saw that it was six in the morning.

"We have something that may interest you."

"At this time of morning?"

"We have captured and are holding in custody what we believe to be an alien."

Dib's eyes widened and he swung to the edge of the bed, grabbing socks with his free hand and trying to jerk them on.

"An alien? No shit?"

"Yes, an alien. We thought that since this seems to be your obsession, we would invite you to come down and have a look."

"Yeah, I'll be right there." Dib hung up and hurriedly got dressed and pulled his boots on. An alien. After all these years of trying to expose Zim, they had finally found an alien. He wondered where this one came from as he grabbed his dad's keys, jotted down a note to his sister, and ran out to the car. The Professor wouldn't mind; he was at work. Dib had been using his car since he first got his license at sixteen, and after three years he thought of it as his own car now anyway.

He pulled from the driveway in the early morning sun and began his two-hour drive to the Swollen Eyeball's headquarters, downtown.