"Knock it off, Zim, you didn't do this. It started happening yesterday, and you haven't seen him since the court date, right?"

"Agent Tunaghost," Zim took a breath and straightened, keeping his back to the screaming old man. "If you have been going through files and footage from the Eyeball, then you saw the interaction between myself and Darkbooty in the hall, correct?"

"The sound was garbled, but I saw, yeah."

"Then you saw the part where I grabbed two blasters and shot him point blank in the face."

"What? No, you missed, you had to, he wouldn't have survived that!"

He turned his head to stare at her. "Agent Tunaghost. Me. Ex-Invader Zim. Missing a point-blank shot at someone who had just about gutted me. Reconsider your words."

"But…" She turned to look at Darkbooty. "He was just fine afterwards! And for weeks… why now?"

"There was something else." He turned. "I haven't had time to consider it much lately, and I've had no inclination to come discuss it with him. But after the shots… his eyes were yellow. Not white, like a normal hyuman's. And he said he was heavily protected for some reason." His eyes shifted to Tunaghost. "Zim is not the expert on paranormal activity, Agent. With that description, what would you say happened?"

Tunaghost's face had drained of color. "It fits," she murmured. "The sudden change in behavior, and this… he was possessed."

"Possessed," Zim prompted, "What owned his body then?" He turned back to Booty. "Whatever it was, it left him. And took its protection with it. Along with his wits. And because of that…" his hands shook a little. "I have killed… am… killing Darkbooty. Very slowly." He pointed to the mess of a head. "From the description, I had suspicions. But this is what a plasma blaster would do, in slow motion. Two blasts, here and here."

"So there's nothing that can be done," she sighed. "Past injury is catching up and he's going to die no matter what, is that what you're saying?"

Zim blinked for a moment, and his head whipped up toward Tunaghost. "You mentioned that there was a sudden shift in behavior for Darkbooty, correct? That he began behaving strangely, different than normal?"

"Yes, I said that."

"And that it happened out of nowhere?"

"It seemed to, I didn't note a trigger anywhere in his files, but who knows?"

"Darkbooty does." Zim turned to the man, a sudden urgency in his voice. "Darkbooty can tell us."

"How can he tell us anything? He can't even think straight."

"He will." A wire slid out from Zim's PAK. "Find a magic that will help his thoughts, like you did for Red."

"Red was different!" Tunaghost protested. "His mind was all there, just fractured. Darkbooty's completely shattered!"

"I don't have time for excuses!" He pulled the curtain closed around the bed, cutting them off from view of the nurses. The wire plunged into the back of Darkbooty's skull. "Even if we get a fragment from him it will help confirm or deny."

"Confirm or deny what? What are you doing?"

"Just make magic!"

Tunaghost huffed, pulling a small notebook out of her pocket and flipping through. As Zim probed Darkbooty's skull, she began a low chant.

His bones were old and brittle with age. It wasn't hard to bore a small hole through the back of the skull. Zim sent out searches onto the human information network, the "internet" as they called it, and gathered as much information on the brain as he could skim in seconds. With that, he slid the wire along the brain tissue until it reached a certain spot. Tiny claws extended from the tip of the wire, and within seconds, Darkbooty's screaming had decreased to low moaning.

Zim retracted the wire, disgustedly grabbing the sheet at the edge of the bed to clean it. Tunaghost faltered in her chant, staring at him. Zim glanced up, and shook his head. "I merely destroyed the pain centers in his brain. He will not be needing them in a few hours, and we need answers."

Turning to Darkbooty, he took a deep breath, bracing himself, then said harshly, "Darkbooty. Can you hear me? Do you hear Zim?" Darkbooty did nothing to acknowledge Zim. The Irken frowned, calling his name again with no results. "Tunaghost, what is his name?"

The chanting dropped away suddenly. "Zim, I can't tell you that. None of us go by our real names anymore. Mothman was a rare exception, it's hard to disguise the fact that he's the son of the great Professor Membrane, but our names are sworn to secrecy between ourselves."

"Between yourselves. So you know each others' real names." He could hear her shifting. "Agent Tunaghost, he has hours to live, if that. I need to reach him somehow. His name."

She hesitated a moment longer, before replying reluctantly, "Derek Bends."

Immediately the elderly man's head turned in her direction, the moaning fading for a moment. Zim seized on the moment. "Derek Bends, do you know what is happening? Do you know what has happened to you?" He could hear Tunaghost picking up the chant again.

The ruined face moved back and forth, as if searching for sight that was no longer there. The mouth moved slowly, "Dark… so…. Dark…"

Zim shook his head. He refused to feel sorry for this lump of disgusting flesh in front of him. "Do you remember anything about what was happening? Do you know who was controlling you?"

Darkbooty's body stiffened, his gnarled hands clutching the sheets as if in mortal terror. "Fly…. Moth… fly…." Zim's antennae flicked up, his eyes narrowing. "Fly away… he's coming…"

"Who?" Zim grabbed his wrist harshly. "Who's coming for the moth?"

Booty gasped, his heart monitor spiking hard. The curtain ripped back, and Zim was pulled aside as a doctor and several nurses congregated around, pumping air into his lungs and jolting his heart. Tunaghost's voice fell silent as she watched them attempt to bring the now flat line back to a steady rhythm.

Zim's eyes were narrowed to slits. Darkbooty had at the very least another several hours to live. There had been nothing wrong with his heart. His eyes never left the corpse that the Doctor finally pronounced him to be, before they all slipped away to make arrangements for the body. He moved forward, claiming his place at Booty's bedside again, before opening his mouth.

"You just had to cut him off, didn't you?" His voice came out as a hateful hiss. The body did not move, the heart monitor still reading flat.

"Who are you talking to?" Ghost asked, worried.

Zim ignored her. "Couldn't let me hear what he was going to say, or do you just take enjoyment in me getting so close to what I need and falling short?"

The lips curled slightly upward, showing teeth stained with age and chipped with use. Tunaghost gasped, eyes darting to the heart monitor, which still read flat. Zim never took his eyes off the face.

"Who are you?" He grated. "Who are you, and what do you have to do with Mothman?"

Slowly, the hand lifted up to the face, pressing a solitary finger against the smiling lips. There came a slow, sibiliant whisper. "Shhhhhhh…. Spoilers…" before the arm dropped, limp.

Turning on his heel, Zim darted for the ICU doors.

"What's going on?" Tunaghost shouted, running after him as fast as she could.

Zim didn't answer. He didn't have time. He had to get to Dib as fast as possible. Maybe it wasn't too late.