Let's just say Vegas was a little bright for Dib and call it good. The flashing and the huge crowds made him cringe against the seat of the cab interior, nails digging into the cheap faux leather.

He felt vaguely nauseous too from the scent of smoke as the driver, kept on pulling away on that cigarette. At least that's what he told himself. The memories…they kept coming back and he tried so hard to fight them.

"Yo, Kid. You okay?" The tall, skinny man with aviators and a bad haircut, asked with some concern. He was looking back at the kid in the review mirror, thinking it would be a wonder if the pale as hell, lanky boy was a day over eighteen. If that.

Dib shuddered, and cleared his throat as it threatened to crack. "Huh? Oh…I'm perfect. Just completely peachy." The reply was heavy with sarcasm. Shaky sarcasm but, still effective. It got across his point that he was by any means fine.

God….why couldn't he just let it go? Just forget. Let it all go back to normal. The feelings…he wanted to throw up but the drug was still in effect; slowing his bodily functions and keeping his mind fuzzy. He knew the horror of his actions would sink in sooner rather than later once it wore off.

The man in the driver's seat raised a sloppy eyebrow. "Uh huh."

Dib frowned and looked out the window once more, with a heavy sigh. "It's stupid. You'll think I'm insane, and then kick me out into the vast load of people on the streets, just waiting to assail and mug stupid kids like me."

It came out quite slurred. Like he was drunk, or stoned. That's what the cabbie assumed anyway. Dib looked down at his watch and remembered that it was gone. Asshole took it. So he estimated. An hour. Maybe hour and a half he'd been in this stuffy car.

"Look Kid, we got at least four hours until we reach your destination. All the time in the world. Spill. I can tell you need it." At Dib's questioning look he poked his forehead. "I'm a cab driver. We're like bartender, except without the free beer. We get a lot of people and you begin to pick up signs on how they feel."

He shrugged, fitting an arm over the passenger's seat, dragging at the cigarette. His eyes flashed back to the kid, whose was kind of turning green. He heaves a sigh and reluctantly put out the bud in his ash tray, already filled to the brim.

Dib tilted his face to look up at the dirty roof of the vehicle, with red rimmed, fuzzy amber eyes and sighed. Why not? A random driver to tell his problems too. This would help him get it all straight in his own head as well.

"Alright…um?" The taxi driver smiled, teeth stained a little yellow with the constant diet of two packs of cigs a day for the last 10 years, lifted his aviators. Dib realized the man had green eyes, with a little dizziness, like the color of dyeing grass.

"Bill. My name's Bill. And yours?" He asked, replacing the glasses on his crooked nose. Dib shuffled in his seat a little, debating to tell the truth or not. He sighed and relented.

"Dib. My name is Dib." Bill nodded, thinking it over.

"Nice name. Kind of unusual. Not one I have ever heard before." Dib had listened to this all before and it never ceased to annoy him, but the way the man said it made it not seem like a bad thing, but a bizarre sort of compliment.

"Yeah. It's pretty weird. But, in my home town, lots of people have strange names." Bill looked up in the review mirror, with interest.

"Is that so?" Dib nodded, a little unenthusiastic.

"For example; The Letter M, Zita, Keef, Moofy, Zim…" The teen trailed off, eyes like saucers the name caught in his throat. Bill looked up in alarm.

"Zim? Sounds important. Their part of it, then? Your story?" Dib swallowed, and leaned back, closing his eyes. He nodded, heart aching. Bill understood, seeing the same face on many a person before.

"Zim….he uh…is a huge part of it." Dib clenched his fists and felt the faint burning on his chest, just above his heart, where the laser had cut through the skin, leaving the scar of Zim's name. There was silence in the cab, besides Bill's breathing and the mild whistling noises as they drove on and on.

"Go on." Bill murmured roughly. That was all that Dib needed to hear.