I'm so happy you liked chapter 1! And so here is chapter 2! Woot! Lemme know what you think. :)

Zim? The uke? He might be...

Tried spacing this differently, I think... hopefully there is a difference. =P


Zim was shaken awake, the computer's tendrils attempting to pull Zim back into reality. The Irkens face was tight, dry tears painting his face. His eyelids opened slowly, reluctant to let go of the weight that pulled them down. Zim waited, lying there, as the computer lifted his weight and pulled off the stained blanket, loosely laying a fresh one over Zim's figure. Placed into the elevator, his legs became weak, collapsing under him. He fell forward, uncaring about his occurring predicament. Wires jolted through the ceiling of the elevator, stopping the movement of the small shaft. Preventing Zim from connecting painfully with the floor, the computer placed Zim on the floor of the elevator. It was very tempting to yell lazily at Zim, but the blank, lifeless expression on his master's face silenced his metallic voice. Reluctantly, the elevator started up again, mere inches from its destination. The stop was smooth, the doors opening up with a slight breeze of air. Zim sat there, and to plain eyes, he would've seemed like a doll. His only giveaway was the feint rising and falling of his chest. The computer made a noise, making Zim remembered where he was. His legs picking him up, he scrambled out of the elevator, the comforting blanket forgotten in the small elevator. His movements were clumsy, his feet tripping over themselves as the computer attended to keeping him upright. Zim's walking reminded the computer of a 'zombie' on Gir's movie. According to the data he contained, the computer was quite certain that an undead person was, indeed, how his master was acting.

Reaching the bathroom, Zim sat down on the low, white, counter, licking his lips by habit. Cleaning Zim's face with a washcloth, the Computer thought, Just like a baby… as he wiped Zim's face with a washcloth. Immediately, the white cloth turned green, the mucky color sullying yet another fabric. The wire tossed the cloth into the trashcan, knowing that Irken tears would permanently stain any type of cloth. With a much refreshened feeling, Zim moved his jaws around, testing out the flexibility his face gained. Sliding of the counter weakly, he allowed his daily schedule to replay: bathing, updating his pak, and then the daily check-up. After his check-up, the reports concluded that his body was completely fine, yet the machines seemed to have detected something wrong with him. Perhaps this is the side-effect of being defect? Zim thought to himself, the rest of his pondering revolving around the words defect, and banished.

By now, the afternoon began, his agenda dramatically deduced to simple threads of what it used to be. He had nothing to do now, and so he attempted to be difficult, acting like the spoiled smeet he never was. Not wanting anything to remind him of the Armada, Zim rejected any Irken produced clothing or food the computer suggested Zim utilize. This included his uniform, basically his entire wardrobe. The one outfit of clothing that was not standard for Invaders, though, was a pair of pajamas. Somehow in his past time, Zim had come across Dib's nightwear. The material was extremely soft, warm, and comforting, and so Zim had taken it without the Dib-stinks approval. He placed them over his green skin, the human boy's scent lingering on it. Gaining a little more confidence in overly succeeding his meticulousness towards the computer, he strutted in the direction of the elevator. Without a word, the elevator shot Zim up to the first level in his base, allowing Zim to exit from the trash bin. He sat on the couch, relaxing his muscles. After several minutes, they tensed up, Zim hearing someone approach the door. The doorbell rang, Zim lazily picking himself up from the spot he had claimed on the sofa. He opened the door, and, seeing the Dib, shut it without another thought. Dib cursed under his breath, once again pushing the circular button on the outside of the green home. The alien inside the house ignored the sound, and so Dib pounded heavily on the door until Zim swung it open once more, glaring at the human. He did not want to deal with the large-headed boy right now; he didn't want to fight any longer. It just reminded him of his mission on Earth.

"What do you want, Dib-stink?" he whispered weakly, wishing for it to have come out more spiteful. His voice was raw, having cried the night before, and having not spoken since his being in the safe room.

Dib hesitated, his mouth opening to say something. I promised myself not to bother him! And here I am, at his doorway! Now what am I supposed to say? He yelled in his head, debating on the first thing he should voice aloud. "I…" he began, his voice low and uncertain. He shifted his gaze, staring at a chip in the paneling of Zim's outside walls. Looking back at Zim, he took in his figure, realizing his attire. "I… Wait… Are those my pajamas? Those were my favorite!" He yelled, looking at Zim angrily.

"So? They're mine now!" Zim yelled, selfishly grabbing handfuls of the soft, black material that covered his arms.

The hurt, innocent reflection on the Irkens face softened his glare. Sighing, Dib continued his sentence briefly, himself not truly understanding why he had gone to his alien's house. "I was… wondering, if we could, you know…" he trailed off, staring into the undisguised, ruby eyes. "Start a… a truce?" His voice squeaking in protest at the thought, but he knew Zim's ego would be too much to allow the green boy to suggest such a thing, even in his state of hurt.

Going over the thought of it, Zim replied, "Sure. But, in this… truce, you are not allowed to expose me? Correct?"

"It wouldn't be a truce if I didn't, Zim!" He spat, easily annoyed at the obvious question. Habit… habit… Get rid of it! The voice in his head yelling demandingly at him.

Zim rolled his eyes, unnoticeable without sclera surrounding the ruby orbs. He looked at Dib hesitantly, expecting this 'truce' to have a side-effect. "But…" Dib continued, "There is one condition…can… can I be allowed to come in your house, whenever?" He questioned, the words exiting his mouth before he could rethink the notion.

Zim was shocked. He supposed it would be along the lines of, 'I can end it whenever, without you knowing' or something just as suspicious. He still was doubtful, he knew Dib had a reason to ask such a thing but the idea of another intelligent individual wandering the house comforted him. "Yeah…" He said shyly, moving from the Dibs path, believing he would want to enter now.

"Thanks!" Dib said, voice rising in volume. Turning around, he walked back down the stairs, meandering out of Zim's yard, a grin plastered to his face as he walked back towards his own home, not even saying goodbye to the alien.

Strange… Zim contemplated, his heart sinking slightly as Dib left him situated at the door. He secured the door shut, the computer automatically locking it. Walking down the hallway, he came to a stop in front of a purple door, turning the handle to enter the room. Immediately he was surrounded by a comforting feeling, the warmth and homely atmosphere making him happier. The thought of sleeping entered his head as he shuffled hurriedly towards the pinkish bed, curling up inside the covers. Drifting off into sleep, the hazy vision of a dream played through his mind as his body went slack.


End-Chapter 2! Lol. Comments, please?