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Author's Note:
Invader Zim is -c- Jhonen Vasquez! Only the events of this story, characters specific to the story, and character tweaking (heh) are mine. :3
~Jizena~
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Zim's Records
Gaz and I were on breakfast rotation the next morning. I hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, but I managed to wake up at seven. After giving myself some time to lie awake and clear my head a little (and this was no easy task, it never is), I left my room silently, pulling on a red sweatshirt over my nightclothes (which consisted of just basically a loose shirt and grey flannel pants) before braving the kitchen.
As I walked through the sitting area to reach the kitchen, I saw that Gaz was there already, taking milk out of the refrigerator. I didn't know who did the shopping for the Corporation, but somehow we always had plenty of food and drinks, so I didn't question that much. Gaz straightened, setting the milk on the counter, then noticed me and drew in a slight gasp, as though she hadn't expected that I'd actually show up.
We looked at each other in silence for a moment. She didn't look any different to me at all, even now that I knew everything about her lineage. She was still Gaz, and my heart still leapt whenever I laid eyes on her. I felt a sting in my chest, as if to say, Idiot, of course she's no different.
She drew back a little, seeming to be studying me, testing to make sure I was okay. Or testing to make sure that I was still human, at very basic. I had half a soul, didn't I? That accounted for something. We were both on a borderline.
Gaz's eyes were slightly bloodshot, and pink around the edges, but dry—wide and dry. She hadn't been crying, but she was clearly upset, and I hated to see her like that. It was obvious that she knew about my conversation with Dib the night before. As far as I knew, maybe she'd overheard me talking to Red and—and Ira. But she knew that I knew, and we were both effected. But I wanted this to make us stronger. I always wanted her to feel like she was as strong as I knew she was.
I unintentionally heaved a heavy sigh as I let myself just look at her. She was wearing a tight black undershirt and silk purple pants that reached down to above her ankles, and, I noticed, the black sweatshirt that I'd lent her during the Incident. That felt so far away, now. The challenge of that week had been nothing in comparison to the waves we were riding now. I missed how simple it all seemed, and hoped that we could work around the new obstacles to make things simple again.
"Um... hi," she greeted, looking uncomfortable with the silence.
"Hey," I greeted in return, making myself smile as I walked into the kitchen. "What're we making?"
"Zim..." she tried, backing away as she hugged her arms into her.
"We have plenty of eggs," I noticed, upon opening the fridge for a look inside. "Eggs Benedict sound okay?"
"Zim!"
"We have English muffins, right?" I asked, pulling out the tray of eggs and walking over to the counter that openly faced the sitting area.
"ZIM!"
I'd been trying to avoid talks of Miyuki for her sake, but that was probably what Gaz was about to bring up, so when she insisted, I looked over at her. "Hmm?"
She downcast her gaze, then turned away from me and opened the cabinet above her head, where the glasses and mugs were kept. "Aren't you mad?" she wondered.
"Me? No," I lied. "I just wish I'd known sooner." Truth.
"I can't believe Dib just went and—oh, hell! I can't reach that stupid shelf!" she griped, cutting herself off.
Just as force of habit, I walked over silently and saw that the cabinet hadn't been properly restocked, and the only glasses were on the top shelf. I calmly took down two glasses and handed one to her. "Here," I said, letting my eyes meet hers as I handed her the object.
"Thank you." She kept her eyes on mine for a moment, then turned away and opened the milk. "You want some?"
"No, water's fine for me for now." So it didn't look like I was lying, I walked over to the sink and poured myself a glass, hoping a day would never come when I'd burn up at the touch of water again.
"Zim, you're being awfully quiet," Gaz observed.
Taking out the ingredients for hollandaise sauce, I said, "So you know about the, eh... talk I had."
"Y-yeah..." said Gaz, going back to the fridge for Canadian bacon. Why we just happened to have Canadian bacon, I didn't know, but, again, I didn't question it. "He said you broke down. Are you okay?"
"I'll be all right," I shrugged. "It... it is what it is. I mean, I've also got an interesting history w—" I shut my mouth. I hadn't meant to start that. I didn't mean to consciously allude to my past life. Miyuki was a whisper in my mind at best. The PAK remembered her better than I did. And I was in control here.
"You... what?"
"Nothing."
"Oh."
I silently mixed everything for the sauce into a pot, as Lex had taught me some time ago, quickening the process with a whisk. Cooking is incredibly easy. All one has to do is follow directions. After setting the pot onto the stove and turning up the heat, I asked Gaz to watch it for me, once I'd stirred it a couple times. She set her other things to the side and silently moved toward the stove to take over.
It was just a little too warm in the kitchen all of a sudden, so I removed my sweatshirt and drank down the water I'd poured for myself. Stop being so stupid and just talk to her, I told myself angrily. Especially since I was sure we were way, way beyond that trivial old "How was your day?" by now.
"Oh, God, I can't even stir this stupid thing right!" Gaz groaned, feverishly flipping the whisk around in the pot, gripping the handle fiercely.
"Ah, hey, it's okay, just slow down," I said, going to her quickly and putting my hands on top of hers, again out of pure force of habit, wanting to have contact with her. I felt her gasp, but I stayed as I was. "See? You're stirring too fast," I went on, speaking more quietly now, unfurling her fingers a little so that her grip on the whisk was lighter, then helped her loosen her grip on the pot's handle as well. "Just be patient, and it'll turn out okay."
God, am I digging my own grave or what?
Just be patient, and it'll turn out okay? If that wasn't me talking about the relationship I wanted to have with her, I didn't know what else I could say that was any more obvious. Go ahead and just say "I love you" again, why don't you?
"Okay," said Gaz, following my hand motions with the whisk. She was blushing. I couldn't feel the ring on her left hand at all, but I told myself it might have just been because she wouldn't wear it when sleeping. Realizing I was still holding onto her, I eased up a little. "Hey!" Gaz exclaimed. "Don't let go! I mean... I don't think I'd be able to keep doing this right if you did."
That was good enough for me. I let our fingers intertwine and went about helping her still. Cautiously, I leaned in a little more, hit with the want to draw her in close and tell her again that I loved her. But there were some things I wanted to keep hidden from her, too. I couldn't tell her... not until I understood it completely myself. Not until I was positive I could overcome it. So, for that moment, just being close to her like that was okay. Then again...
"Zim?"
"Hmm?"
"You're... staying, right?" asked Gaz cautiously, trembling a bit. "Even though..?"
"I'm staying," I told her, "as long as I can. We still have to fight, no matter what we know. And I... have to..."
Unable to control myself any longer, I let go of Gaz's hands, causing her to let go of what she was holding as well, and I pulled her back away from the stove, hugging her close to me from behind. "Zim, what—" she began, but stopped herself mid-sentence.
"Mm..." I muttered, breathing in the soft, sweet scent of her hair, "it's nothing."
Gaz seemed to relax a little, allowing herself to lean back against me. My heart was pounding; I'd been waiting for a moment like that for so long I'd lost track of time. Her breaths were a little uneven, but she was for the most part calm, making me feel more and more at home with her. My arm stung a little, but I ignored it.
"Can't be nothing," she said quietly after a brief moment of silence.
Cautiously, I pressed a little closer to her, my words brushing directly into her ear in the softest tone I could manage. "You found it."
"Hmm?"
"...The ring." Gaz was silent after I said that, so I continued talking. "You like it, then?" I guessed, feeling myself smile. "You waited for me?"
Gaz let out a light breath. "Of course I waited," she said, "but why'd you give it to me? I mean I pretty much know, but... why Tavis? Why not..."
"I have to protect you," I whispered, not letting go.
"You don't have to..."
"Yes, I do."
"Why are you saying that?" Now she was on the verge of crying. I had a sinking feeling that I was hurting her, but for some reason a part of me was too selfish to care. I wanted her. I didn't understand why, but I wanted her, all for my own. I had to protect her. If I couldn't love her, nothing would make sense. If anything, I needed to convince myself that what I felt was really love. Trust was one thing, but did I really understand?
"Because..." I began, bowing my head a little and closing my eyes, envisioning what life could be like if everything I wanted was real, "I..."
"Because she's just like her mother. Isn't that it?"
"No!" I found myself shouting, perking up and letting go of Gaz. She yelped a little and rushed to the stove to turn off the burner, then whipped around to face me again. I could barely see her. My vision flashed red for a moment. My hands flew to my head, in a subconscious attempt to keep the PAK subdued.
"Zim, what's wrong?" Gaz asked frantically.
I stumbled backwards until I ran into the far counter. I lost control of myself for a moment, and unintentionally my hands slammed down behind me onto the countertop, sliding down to grip the edge. The PAK wanted control.
"Get out of the room, Gaz," I advised as calmly and evenly as I could without slipping. I could feel myself getting stronger, but the strength was not mine to use. "Find someone... get your brother, maybe..."
"I don't want to talk to Dib!" she snapped. "I just want you to be okay!"
"I don't know if I will be!" I hollered back, an ache surging through my entire body—a heat, a chill, a pang, a surge. Or possibly nothing. "Just—
"Just what?" she demanded, screaming. "Zim, please!"
My vision flashed red again, but instead of taking full control, my PAK made me look on. I didn't even get the luxury of a blackout. "Just a little longer," it made me say, taking control of my vocal chords and speaking through me. My voice sounded hollow and rough, void of emotion and deeper than the lowest minor chord I'd ever heard come out of Lex's piano.
"ZIM, WHAT THE HELL?" Gaz cried out.
"You want to know why I'm cut out to be General?" I heard 'myself' saying.
"ZIM! SHUT UP!" Gaz shouted. I was allowed to watch her run up to me, and was finally shocked back into awareness when she slapped me across the face. The PAK released its grip from my head and my vision was restored to human splendor, but I felt sick.
Suddenly, Gaz's arms were wrapped tightly around me, and what I wanted to be reality sank in further. Stiffly, I regained full control, and set my right arm around her waist. Being more than cautious, I bowed my head, drinking in the lilac scent of her hair, of every sense, every single thing that kept me present, goal-oriented, at least slightly human.
"Thank you," I told her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Zim, no. I'm sorry my brother—I'm sorry he broke you," Gaz murmured. Was that what she thought? Well, I suppose she was partially right.
"That isn't all it..." I tried. "Look, there's... kind of something about me, I..."
"What's going on in here?" Simultaneously, Gaz and I turned to see who had spoken. Much to my surprise, it was Red, standing casually in the sitting area. Gaz and I exchanged glances, and then she stepped away from me, walking back over to the stove to retrieve the pot and finish making breakfast.
I watched after her, then turned to glare at Red. "Breakfast," I answered in a raw tone. "What're you doing here?"
"I got a signal," he answered. "Well, a call. The computer system here supports it."
"What're you talking about?" I wondered. "A signal from where?"
"It just came in, and I've already told Dib," said Red. "He's gotta talk to you, since we need to kind of speed things up a little now."
"What? Why? Red, where was that signal from?"
Wait. Shit. I knew the answer. My heart skipped and I knew. And the answer could potentially come to nothing. The signal could very well have been a false lead, or, from the sender, a lie. Either way, she had impeccable timing. She always liked to stir things up right in the damned thick of things.
"Who else?" Red grunted, folding his arms in defiance against her. "It's Tak."
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Author's Note:
Hey guys~! :3 Whee. I swear, this really is one of my favorite scenes. ^^; Also I love Eggs Benedict, so there's that. (They really are delicious.) Haha, get it? Zim's a good cook, and he was once banished to Foodcourti… a… haha… D: (Apparently it's emoticon day.)
Sorry again for the super late update! I do have a looooot more editing to do than I thought…
Also! Gah, really, seriously, I do apologize for being so wonky with updates and such, but there is a possibility that I'll be taking next week off (from both this fic and my other one) because of Thanksgiving. So! There is a chance that I will see you next Friday,November25th, but if not, I will absolutely see you on Saturday,December3rd!(Gonna be going back to Saturdays for December due to my shift in schedule.) :3
It is super late and I am sleepy, but honestly, honestly, thank you all so much for reading! Hello to all new readers (sorry to be welcoming you on while I'm in such a crazy state of awkward updates and such right now, aaahhh!) (I feel like I'm feeling fic existentialism or something…) and thank you all so, so much for your faves and comments~! They make me so happy~
Have a lovely Thanksgiving, to all of you who celebrate it (and a lovely week to all in general!), and I am going to try really super hard to have an update for you next week!
Much, much love,
~Jizena~
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