(A/N)I made it before Saturday ended. ;3

The opening scene... why? Because it was inevitable. x3

Haha, a short cameo for one of my freestanding OCs. ^_^ And a name-only appearance for a Defective-exclusive one. I ran out of canon Irkens I don't already have plans for. O.o

Judging from my reviewers, I seem to have created a rather neat but accidental misconception... and therefore this chapter should hold some surprises. Let me take this opportunity to point out that Skoodge probably has the best handle on the situation as a whole.

Many thanks and waffles to my reviewers, Athena Keating-Thomas, AsianCutie93, Lileipad, TwoCute, and LadyCerebellum! You guys make it all worthwhile. :')

I do not own Invader Zim. Sorry to disappoint.

Lark drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the night, his ill-fitting PAK sparking in a way that unnerved the watching Irkens. When dawn came and the air traffic picked up once again, the group collected themselves and piled into the Voot Cruiser, not unlike a family of human campers piling into their RV. But that was to be the first morning that Zim noticed something amiss with his smeethood friend.

"Where's your PAK?" he asked, his voice alarmed. Skoodge raised one eyebrow.

"What? You're just noticing?" the rebel asked, and then seemed to think better of the question. "Actually, I'm not surprised."

"Where is it? And why is Skoodge not dead?" Zim demanded, holding Lark unconsciously tighter. "You're a zombie!"

Skoodge, who had opened his mouth in preparation to give a perfectly viable and sane explanation, felt his jaw go slack. It took him a moment to form the words, "I'm not a zombie, Zim."

"You lie!" the invader shrieked. "Zombie! You're after our brains!"

"You watched too much earth television!" Skoodge snapped. "I'm not-!"

"Zombiiiiiiie!" Clutching the confused human to his chest, Zim pointed an accusatory finger. "You will not have my delicious brains! And the Dib's brains belong to Zim and Zim alone!"

"... That's... kind of creepy, Zim."

"Creepy like a zombie? I think not!"

"..."

Narrowing his eyes, the invader reached forward and poked Skoodge's forehead. He then, with an air of absolute secrecy, whispered loudly to Lark, "The zombie is squishy."

"I am not a zombie!" the stout Irken shouted. "Listen to me, Zim! I can live without my PAK!"

"ImpossibleyouLIE!" Zim cried, scurrying behind the Cruiser and then peeking out cautiously, human still held tight enough to impair breathing. And Skoodge, seeing no alternative, sighed.

"... I guess we'll just stop running from the Tallest, then."

Instantly Zim was in the Voot Cruiser, human in hand. "What nonsense do you speak?! Come, hurry! We're wasting time!"

Irritated but triumphant, Skoodge clambered up into the ship, taking his seat at the helm. GIR climbed in beside him, tongue sticking out in a very nostalgic manner.

"... Talk to GIR for a while," the pilot instructed his passenger, eager to change the subject of conversation to something constructive. "The sight of you seems to trigger some regression in him. If I tamper too much trying to get his personality back, I risk erasing his memory (which we can't afford to lose right now, thinking of Lark's genetic issues, among other things). If you can wake him up, it'll be best for all of us."

"Eh? 'Wake him up?'" Zim asked, confused. But the PAKless Irken offered no reply, seeming appropriately focused on flying the ship. So the invader switched his gaze to the little SIR unit waiting patiently at his feet. "Eh... GIR! What is the meaning of all this nonsense?"

"I have detected no... nonsense, sir," the unit replied. "Everything is tippy-toppy."

The last phrase sounded odd in the duty-mode voice, and Zim's invisible eyebrow quirked. "Eh? 'Tippy-toppy,' is it? What about the zombie flying this beautiful vessel, hmm?"

"I'm not a zombie, Zim!"

"Master is not a zombie," GIR said, sounding serious and cross. "Master is Master Skoodge."

"Zim is your master!" the invader snapped, losing his patience for no apparent reason. "That zombie is not your master! Zim is your master!"

But GIR only watched him with narrowed eyes- didn't reply. And so eventually silence fell in the Cruiser, Lark staring out the window and Zim muttering crossly, GIR awaiting orders that seemed never to come. By the time Skoodge landed once again for the night, the space in the small vessel reeked with pent-up tensions, though some were distinctly more rational than others.

"Zombie..." Zim muttered as he clambered out past Skoodge, and the stout rebel grabbed the back of his shirt. The invader jerked, eyes flying wide. "Release me! Release Zim!"

"Zim, I'm not a zombie!" Skoodge insisted. "I was born with a physical flaw- not a neurological one like born defectives. As I grew older- and more involved with the resistance -I started to study PAKs, and soon figured out a way to live without mine. Hobo 13 was an unnecessarily complicated test to see how long and under what duress I could live without it- not once did I have my PAK on when we were there together. I assumed you had already noticed."

"Zim had not noticed that you are a zombie," the other Irken sniffed crossly, seeming to have heard nothing of the lengthy explanation just offered to him.

The rebel shivered slightly as he suppressed whatever words were on the tip of his segmented tongue, but eventually he let out his breath with a rough sigh, releasing Zim's shirt and leaping down from the Cruiser. Lark came after him, and soon the foursome was gathered around an impromptu picnic, supplies packed by the ever-practical Skoodge laid out between them.

"Intravenous nutrients?" the rebel offered, holding out a blue and green syringe common on Irk. After a momentary conflict, Zim shook his head and took a sandwich instead. Skoodge shrugged, plunging the needle into his own wrist and sighing softly with the customary rush that followed.

But even as they fell into relative silence, the two Irkens were preoccupied with the hybrid munching happily at a sandwich, entirely convinced that the nutrients his body needed could be found there, and deadly wrong in that regard. Zim eventually stood, brushing himself off crossly and pacing across the rooftop; when Lark tried to follow, the other Irken grabbed his arm.

"Let him be. He hasn't been alone since this whole thing started, and Zim... is the type who needs time alone."

Lark's eyes went misty. "But he's my Zim; I have to be with him...!"

Skoodge shook his head sadly. "He's not 'your Zim,' Lark... he's Dib's. And you aren't Dib, right?"

The worker drone opened his mouth as to object, but then let his head hang. "... No."

"Seeing you causes him more pain than anything else," the rebel said gently. "It brings him comfort, too... but if it drags on for too long, the pain will outweigh all else." What the defective didn't feel the need to confide were his more secret worries- the concern that Zim might snap one day, should he see Lark posing as Dib; that he would kill both of them, either accidentally or entirely on purpose.

"Just... let him be for a while. Here, why don't you help me with these schematics?"

… … …

Zim heard the whole thing- and was grateful, at least on some level, for his smeethood friend's intervention. He hadn't a hint about the rebel's deeper worries, but he appreciated the respect he assumed he was due.

"I am Zim..." he muttered, "and I could leave."

He wasn't keen on getting caught up in such complicated matters as an Irken coup; he only wanted his Dib back. But Skoodge and the revolt in general seemed to be the best option he had.

"I'll use them, yes... they will not use Zim."

His eyes found their way up, straining to see the stars through the artificial light of his planet. Why had that simple thing been so much easier on earth?

A tap on his shoulder startled him, and the Irken spun to see GIR standing just behind him; the robot's eyes were not red and not blue, but instead an odd greenish color.

"Is you saaaad? Whhhhhy is you so saaaad?"

Zim sighed, though undeniably comforted by the sight of something- anything -familiar. "Yes, GIR, Zim is sad. As unthinkable as it is, Zim too has the weakness of feeling, especially when the Dib-human is concerned," he informed the little robot seriously.

"Oooooh. You know what would make you feel better?"

The invader smiled indulgently. "And what would make Zim feel better, as if Zim requires cheering up- which he does not?"

"Tacos," the sir unit answered seriously, and then giggled. "I like tacos."

And Zim found himself smiling, patting his once-robot-minion's head absently as he turned back toward the cityscape.

"Yes you do, GIR. We've established this."

… … …

Zim didn't return to the landing sight until morning- his night, however, was not spent unproductively. So when he padded up beside the Cruiser, he wasted no time on pleasantries.

"Zim will borrow GIR for a bit, yes?" the Invader asked abruptly, though surprisingly docile. Skoodge raised invisible eyebrows.

"... Sure, I guess. GIR?"

The SIR unit padded up reluctantly, saluting. "Yes, my Lord!"

"Go with Zim for a while," the rebel instructed. "Treat him as your master until you return."

"... Understood, sir."

But Zim was shifting nervously, still seeming unsatisfied. "And... could you keep an eye on my Dib?"

Suddenly the stout rebel looked anxious. "You're not taking him with you? Where are you going, Zim?"

"Do not concern yourself," the invader replied flippantly. "Think simply that the Dib is insurance- Zim will return."

… … …

"...!"

Tearing at his antenna, gnashing his teeth, the leader of the rebellion was at his wit's end.

"It's been three days... three days, Lark! Why did I let that idiot out of my sight?!"

"He'll be back," the worker drone answered cheerfully, rocking back and forth on his haunches. "He's Zim! And my Zimmy always keeps his promises~!"

"..." Skoodge frowned, one brow arching. "You really aren't Dib, hmm?"

A cute little head shake.

And a sigh from the rebel.

"Rejoice- for Zim has returned!"

"Zim!"

"Zim...!"

Though Lark's voice was filled bubbly excitement, Skoodge's was scarcely a furious hiss. But as soon as the returning invader hopped over the building's edge, both of them dissolved into honest concern.

"Z-Zimmywhathappened?" Lark squeaked in one breath, looking as if he were about to faint. The Irken rebel rushed over, leaning in to examine Zim's smoking skin.

"Zim, what-?!"

"Do not concern yourself," the invader said, waving one badly burned hand and then wincing. A moment later GIR clambered up beside him, so Skoodge turned to the robot.

"GIR, what happened?!"

"It's a seeeecret," the little robot whispered loudly, then giggled. Skoodge jumped.

"Y-you got him back?!"

Zim shrugged. "The tin can has moments of so-called clarity." Then he stalked past Skoodge without a second glance, marching over to Lark; in one fluid movement he had grabbed the drone's pale arm and plunged a syringe into the interior elbow.

"Ouch!"

"Zim?!"

The invader didn't respond to either outburst, holding tightly to the now-struggling Lark and uncapping another needle with his teeth. Just as he was about to repeat the action, Skoodge grabbed his arm and dragged it back.

"Zim, what is that? What are you doing?!" he demanded, fear filling his naturally limpid eyes.

"Nutrients," was the simple response. "Now release me and bow to Zim for this accomplishment!"

Skoodge staggered back, letting the other's arm slip free to administer the second vial of supposed nutrients. "Z-Zim...? What...? How?!"

The invader didn't answer until he had drained the syringe, tossing it down and breaking it deliberately with one foot. Then he released Lark- who staggered away, whimpering and rubbing at his arm -and turned to his smeethood friend.

"Look," he instructed, turning his arms interior-up. The first obvious thing was the mirad of burns making a patchwork of the green skin, but what lay beneath them was possibly more alarming. Skoodge reached forward tentatively, touching the rows of pale, lurid slashes that stretched horizontally across both his arms.

"Zim... what did you do...?"

The invader's voice was devoid of emotion as he answered, "Zim has been poisoned by the earth meats several times; there were traces to be found in my blood. Once in a lab, it was simple for one such as Zim to synthesize more of the same molecules. GIR contains the coding for protein and other such nutrients- those things not found in Irk's superior goo."

Skoodge was left staring, open-mouthed; awed. "Zim... you went that far...?"

"For the Dib," the invader confirmed, then shrugged. With a soft sigh he turned, trudging to a corner of the roof and crumpling there, holding his knees tightly to his chest. Skoodge watched with some sadness; he turned Lark away when the little drone came looking for Zim, and GIR came shortly after for the same reason; then it was Lark again. At last the rebel moved forward, taking the worker drone by the arm and calling for GIR.

"Come on, both of you; help me pack the Voot Cruiser."

… … …

"The secondary base is just on the outskirts of this centre," Skoodge informed his passengers excitedly. "We'll be there before nightfall, and meet up with Nym- one of our scientists -to see what we can do about Lark and Dib."

Zim stayed moodily silent, half-conscious human on his lap and sleeping robot on his head. But he couldn't bring himself to dislodge either, and so simply gazed out the window in a very Dib-like fashion, as if making up for the boy's absence.

So he was the first to spot it.

"Watch where you fly, rebel scum!" he snapped at Skoodge. "Do you want us to crash? Stay in your lane!"

The pilot blinked. "Zim, I am in my lane. Is someone-?"

The collision shook the cruiser, sending them swerving across several lanes of air traffic. Lark tumbled to the ground and GIR squealed in panic, clinging to Zim's antenna in the most painful manner possible.

"What was that?!" Skoodge demanded. "Zim, who just-?!"

Then it came again, this time accompanied by the sickening grate of metal on metal synonymous with the attachment of tow cables. Skoodge jerked at the Voot's controls, but nothing seemed willing to respond as swirling traffic honked furiously at the spiraling pair of ships.

Zim bolted to the window, hands pressed to the glass as he shouted, referring to the attacking ship, "It's got the Elite Guard symbol!"

Skoodge cursed colorfully in Irken, wrenching the ship so that it plummeted downward, dragging the assaulter's vessel with them, and then dove into a corkscrew spin that set his passengers tumbling. Pulling up at the last possible instant, he let the enemy ship plow into the metal-encrusted planet, sending civilians scattering as the force of impact severed the tow cables. Then the Cruiser was free, darting across the clogged skyways and weaving through confused commuters, bursting into the atmosphere with a sudden eruption of flame all around them.

"... You learned that maneuver from Zim...!" the very dizzy invader announced, staggering as he pointed in Skoodge's general direction. The defective ignored him, however, climbing up through the ozone and holding the ship steady as it broke free into open space. Only then did he lean back, exhaustion seeming to crash over him as he left the Cruiser to drift in orbit.

"We can't risk leading them to the base," he sighed, then cursed again. "What are we supposed to do now? What now, Lepa? ...What now...?"

But even though he momentarily closed his eyes, Skoodge soon leaned forward and tapped at the Voot's console, though still allowing the ship to drift aimlessly. A hologram fizzled to life, one depicting a small female Irken with a stitched-up antenna.

"Nym, we won't be making the rendezvous," the rebel said heavily. "We just ran into the Tallest's attack slor'ghaa ("attack dogs" would be close to what Skoodge is referring to, for all you humans reading this). I need you to move the base deeper underground; lay low for a while, alright?"

"Are you alright?" the scientist asked, though her voice wasn't overly concerned- almost as if the question was only an obligatory nicety.

"Yes; we're in the atmosphere right now," Skoodge replied. "I don't know when it'll be safe to meet. The last thing I want to do-"

"Is attract attention to us. You better not," Nym said softly, dangerously. "Lepa's death is on your head; another mistake and the Tallest might just get a Skoodge-sized, gift-wrapped package on their doorstep."

Zim was peering over Skoodge's shoulder as the rebel sighed heavily, seeming unsurprised by the threat. "You know you can't do that, Nym. Not because of Lepa, but because I'm the one who-"

"Knows his way around the insides of our PAKs?" The scientist cut him off again. "Wonder of wonders, that makes many of us more nervous than anything else, myself included."

The stout little Irken had taken a breath to respond when his smeethood friend leaned dangerously forward, placing himself intrusively into the middle of the conversation.

"Do not question Skoodge!" he snapped. "If you question Skoodge you question Zim, and such affronts will not be stood for, not at all!"

Nym's eyebrows arched. "Who in the hellcats' claws are you? You have no right to tell me who I can and can't question!"

"I am Zim!" the invader roared, slamming a fist down on the console. "Conquer of earth, greatest invader in the history of all of Irk! Adored by the masses and worshiped- yes, they worship Zim! I am ZIM!"

"Zim...!" Skoodge muttered crossly, shoving at the body that had somehow planted itself on top of him- indeed, the little invader was balancing on his stomach over the other's shoulder, feet no longer touching the ground. "Zim, this isn't worth-!"

"The effort?!" This time it was Zim who cut the poor rebel off, spinning in a truly awkward maneuver to bring their faces an inch apart. "Zim is worth the effort! I am Zim!"

"We've established that!" Skoodge yelled, wriggling and finally shoving the other Irken off, sending Zim tumbling to the ground. "By Lepa's ghost, stop being so... Zim!"

"I am Zim!" the invader snapped, though he was currently upside down. Righting himself, he drew breath to continue some narcissistic rant, but was interrupted by a trilling laugh.

"O-oh my Tallest...!" the holographic Nym giggled, her face flushed and eyes closed. "The resistance is in your hands...! Oh dear Lepa...! We're all doomed!"

The two males stared at her as she continued to laugh, both suddenly lost for words. Once the female had gotten herself under control, she leaned forward.

"Listen, Skoodgemious Illiactis," she said, in all seriousness. "Lepa trusted you with the resistance, so you have our blind, probably misplaced support. Make contact with us whenever you feel it is safe. Until then, I'll look out for everyone." She switched her gaze, adding in a deadpan voice, "And you, almighty Zim; a pleasure to meet you." Then she was gone, hologram vanishing with a soft staticy sound.

There was dead silence in her absence, at least until Zim cocked his head and asked in confusion and disbelief. "Eh? 'Skoodgemious?'"

"Sh-shut up!" the stout rebel spluttered, attempting to retain his dignity despite the furious blue blush flaring across his skin. "Shut up!"

Zim hardly had time to start laughing before the ship lurched, sending all its occupants crashing to one side. Any remnants of the lighthearted atmosphere vanished as Skoodge leaped wildly for the controls; Zim, reminded suddenly of Lark and GIR, lunged back to pin them both to the wall. Skoodge grunted with effort as he pulled the ship into a tight spin, reentering the atmosphere of the planet entirely sooner than he had intended to.

"Invader Skoodge!" came the shrill voice over the Cruiser's intercom. "Surrender the fugitives you are harboring, worker drone Lark and defective Zim! Surrender them or face destruction!"

Angrily, the rebel slammed the control panel with enough force to cut off the intrusive voice, wrenching the Voot into a sickening twist as fire arched around them once again. "Zim! Hold on to something!"

Obediently, Zim pressed himself harder against Lark, holding the small drone steady and keeping GIR trucked protectively to his side- neither robot nor human felt more than a few bumps as the Cruiser descended, Elite ship in pursuit. Skoodge leaned forward sharply, urging the ship faster than it should have been able to go and Zim, knowing full well how their current flight was likely to end, buried his face in his lover's hair and pressed all three of them tightly to the friction-heated hull.

The impact came more abruptly than anyone would have thought- a tow cable attached the the Cruiser's rear end jerked them back, making Skoodge shriek with surprise. The gathered momentum tore the Voot free, but also sent it careening into a nearby skyscraper, scattering screaming Irkens and corpses in its wake. Then the battered ship tumbled to the ground, and even Zim couldn't brace hard enough, abandoning the wall in favor of clinging to his two charges instead. Then at last they came to rest, a heap of fugitives amid a heap of smoking rubble.

Amid that wreckage, Zim pulled Lark upright and hoisted GIR onto his head; Skoodge was a bit slower to rise, staggering out of what was left of the cockpit with one hand to his head. Limping forward, he motioned to Zim; together the foursome scurried into the shadows, picking their way along the edges of the bustling streets.

Then Lark stopped.

"My Tallest!" he chirped suddenly, pulling his hand free of Zim's. After the initial shock was gone, the Irken lunged after him, grabbing his arm.

"Dib!"

"My Tallest want me...!" the worker drone exclaimed hazily, a smile on his face. "Come on, Zim...! They want you, too...!"

"No, no!" Zim snapped, digging in his feet. "D-Dib...! Dib-thing, this way! Follow Zim! Follow Zim, please!"

"But my Tallest...!" Lark exclaimed, sounding lovesick. "My Tallest want me...! They want me...! I have to go to them!"

Skoodge grabbed Zim's hand, unable to simply watch it play out. "Come on, Zim! They'll catch up...!"

"I'm trying!" the poor Irken snapped, then turned back to his human. "Dib, please! Come with Zim, now!"

But Lark was beyond his words, squirming free of his grasp. "My Tallest!" he cried as he stumbled forward, then took off back towards the wreckage. Zim made to follow with an incoherent sound of distress, but Skoodge grabbed him.

"Zim, we have to get out of here!" he said, bodily dragging the smaller Irken backwards. "Zim, he's gone! He won't listen to you! He isn't Dib!"

"Zim will not leave his Dib!" the little invader wailed, but didn't have the strength to follow through. Even when he tried to make use of his robotic limbs, it was a simple thing for the rebel to disable them with one deft flick of his hand. "Dib. you fool! You stinking little dirt-child imbecile! Zim will not leave without you!"

Grunting with the effort of holding the writhing Irken, Skoodge muttered, "Sorry, Zim. I didn't want to do this, but we can't be caught yet. If we're caught, he really is done for."

"You filthy...! Do what...?! Zim will not-!" The little Irken's objections died as his eyes flashed grey, and then unconsciousness crashed over him; Skoodge, shutting his companion's PAK, shouldered the small body with an effort and scurried off- an escape, albeit an incomplete one.

… … …

"Zim, don't look at me like that," Skoodge pleaded, though the other's expression didn't change. "Zim, I did what I had to! If you had gone after Lark-!"

"Not Lark!" Zim spat suddenly. "Dib! The Dib-thing! My Dib-thing!"

"Zim, that's not Dib!" Skoodge yelled, fists balling at his sides. "When will you get it through that thick head of yours?! That's Lark, not Dib! I can't guarantee that we'll ever get 'Dib' back! So you would be risking your life- and mine too! -for the sake of an Irken worker drone you don't even like; one who just so happens to share a body with your true love!"

"That is my Dib!" the invader screamed back, tears in his eyes. "Don't tell Zim that his Dib isn't coming back! Don't tell Zim that, please!"

Zim jerked back, seeming horrified by what he had just wailed for all of Irk to hear. Skoodge's anger deflated, his eyes softening as he looked at his old friend. Turning around, he thought it best to move the conversation along- as though he had never even heard Zim's outburst.

"This is a PAK that belonged to a friend of the resistance- he wasn't a defective, but he was an old classmate and friend of Lepa's," he said briskly, displaying the PAK on a bed made of upturned palms. "He died delivering a message from one base to another. I salvaged his PAK and destroyed his body, so his death was never recorded- one of the most useful deaths in the rebellion yet, I should say."

"What does this have to do with anything?" Zim's tone was a mockery of his usual abrasive attitude- shallow. But Skoodge graciously ignored that.

"Our old friend Keel here is going to help you infiltrate the Tallest's house- where they're holding Lark."

Instantly Zim's antenna pricked. "What? Help Zim...?"

Skoodge nodded. "A kink in your antenna and you're the spitting image of him; we'll just supplement your PAK with some chips from his and you'll be ready to pass as Keel, a perfectly normal janitorial drone." Then he turned, calling, "Come on; we should get back to the Voot Cruiser."

Ignoring the confusion brought on by the last statement, Zim rose and padded after his smeethood friend, focused now on a goal and able to avoid unpleasant thought pertaining to Dib and Lark. But when he followed the rebel into an abandoned building, he couldn't help but gasp.

"What is this?!"

Skoodge turned, blinking. "Uh... your ship?"

"Y-Yes, but she was destroyed...!" Zim stammered, reaching up to run one hand along the battered but intact hull.

"And I fixed her," Skoodge said with a smile, patting the bruised metal. "Lucky for us, Lark distracted the Elite and I was able to salvage the wreck- and all our luggage, as a bonus."

"How long has Zim been unconscious?!" the invader demanded.

The rebel shrugged. "Oh, about half a day."

"... Impossible."

"You have no idea what's possible these days, Zim. Now get in."

(A/N) And so ends chapter four. Not my favorite chapter, I must say, but it serves it's purpose. :) I have... about 6-7% of chapter 5 written. So I apologize if it takes a touch longer than usual.

Reviews are always appreciated, and answered with lovely little hints and my deep gratitude. ;P

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