Third chapter

Third chapter! Okay guys, this is a little short. Sorry about that.

But not too short… I hope.

WARNINGS: Abuse, and cuddling!

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There weren't many things Gaz liked. She did not enjoy makeup, new clothes or shoes like the other girls did. She did not like skateboards, punk bands and drama clubs like the boys did. Gaz was unable to fit in with any crowd, unless it was somehow video game related.

But that suited her just fine. Gaz didn't like friends; she found them annoying and tiresome. She hated going out and having to keep promises. And she hated it whenever asked the question, 'why don't you ever have a sleep over?'

Gaz hardly even liked her own family. Her father was obnoxious and egotistic, and her brother was changing into some kind of grade obsessed, violent, depressed freak of nature, and a spineless one at that too.

She would shut herself in her room, and lock the door. Her first thought it, 'I should go do my homework' or 'maybe I can beat that boss level today'. Instead, she would push herself to her bedroom door and press her ear to the wood.

You can hear the yelling, even way up on the second floor.

"How can you NOT understand this problem?" Her father would yell. "No son! This is not acceptable! You have a image to stand up to, so stop acting like a imbecile!"

Gaz bit her lower lip and held her breath. It got very quiet. Dib must be reading over the problem again. He must be trying to solve the question the best he could. If it stayed quiet, it meant that Dib was able to figure it out and was left alone for the rest of the night.

But tonight wasn't one of those nights.

There was a crash, but she couldn't tell what it was.

"I'm sure that green exchange student would know! You screwed up you entire childhood playing with him and you couldn't learn a single Goddamn thing! Worthless! You are no son of mine!"

There was a mummer, Dib most likely. He must be trying to defend his case, giving excuses. He might be begging for a little more time to solve the question or to have forgiveness.

Spineless! Couldn't he see that his dear father was nothing more then a man obsessed with his own self-image?

"When I was your age, I was always the top of my class! The top of my school! You don't care, you want to screw with your aliens!"

The yelling died down to more mummers and finally nothingness. There were heavy footsteps fading away, most likely Professor Membrane going back to his labs. Another crash was heard. Dib must be throwing a chair across the floor in anger.

That was a good sign. That meant he wasn't hurt this time, at least not badly.

"I can try the battle axe this time I guess." Gaz muttered to herself. She wondered why she wouldn't go downstairs to see her brother, just to make sure he was all right. But he was always so angry…

She stands up and walked over to her desk. On it was a waiting Game Slave, the fourth edition. "Yeah… the battle axe sounds pretty good."

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Spork had brought a small change of clothes in a dirty old sack. The battered old garments he wanted to sleep in were in such bad shape; Zim was forced to have the computer supply him with new sleepwear.

A simple gray uniform that was made to fit Spork's body perfectly. Zim crossed his arms, and just stared at the older Irken pace back and forth in the room. He would bend his elbows and sit down, and stand back up again. He was not used to the crisp feeling of new clothes, or to the lack of dirt and dried blood.

"I feel strange." Spork muttered. "Your computer is amazing!"

Zim groaned and climbed into his own bed. "It is last years model. The new ones have decent designs, and the fabric isn't so stiff."

"I still like it." Spork smiled, tugging at his sleeve. "My old clothes were just about ready to crumble apart!"

After the lights were turned off and Spork had finally settled down into the heavy covers, their Pak's climbed off their backs and onto the wired wall. Cords snaked down and attached themselves to the Pak's and the room was soon dimly lit by the dull red lights.

It is true an Irken could not live without a Pak for longer then ten minutes, but as long as the Irken and the Pak are within five feet of each other without broken or disrupted contact the count down will not start.

Zim stretched out legs and he lay on his side. It was a long day. But as soon as he drifted into sleep, the dreams began.

"What are you doing Dib?"

The room was brightly lit, and everywhere you turned, there was a bleach white wall. Zim was standing in the middle, with his hand over his eyes. He had no uniform, but he didn't seem to mind very much.

Dib was standing in front of two doorways. The entrances were alike in every way. Zim was surprised to see that Dib was exactly how he looked like when he first laid eyes on him. Small, large rounded glasses, and that ridiculous shirt.

The human turned slightly to look at Zim. "I'm choosing my death Zim."

Zim woke with a start. It was late, so he cursed himself for waking up for no reason. It will be impossible to go back to sleep now.

But something was off. There seemed to be some extra weight on his chest. Zim placed his hand over the object to find it was another hand. He looked over at Spork and frowned. The idiot couldn't stay on his side of the bed.

"Why didn't I suggest Mini-Moose?" He thought angrily. Slowly, he gripped the hand and lifted it. Spork made an odd sound moved in closer.

"What? No! Other way, go the other way!" Zim screamed in his head. But it was too late, the former Tallest had locked Zim in a half hug. There was no way for him to escape unless he wanted to wake him up.

Frozen and stiff, Zim wasn't sure what to do. So he did nothing. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes. The extra warmth was comforting, and sleep came again quickly.

There were no more nightmares that night.

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So how do you like that for a chapter? Please review! I am still new here, but people seem to like my story!

I had to write something. I was tired of all the stupid stories containing OC's and new alien races… But that's how I think. Don't mind me, I am a lone guy writing fanfiction!