A/N: Another sad, short update. This chapter gets a bit into Amy's head, because even though I'm really not into OCs, I really like Amy a lot. I feel like she needs some say in all the crap that's happening.

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Chapter Thirteen:

Second

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Amy sat for a moment, thinking. Her wedding was later this afternoon, but her mind was clouded with other thoughts. She had been both shocked and amazed to meet Gaz and Zim in person again, and Zim without any disguise. She had been invited yesterday to go to the lab with Dib and Gaz and learn the plans. They were… unsettling, to say the least.

It was almost ironic how Amy had felt more connected to Zim during that hour in the lab than to either her fiancé or his sister. Gaz and Dib thought their plans were foolproof, but Amy had doubts, and she could tell that, though he said nothing directly on the matter, Zim did too. And why shouldn't he? His life and Gaz's were going to be in extreme risk. Alien or not, Zim was a man, and men do not like feeling helpless—especially concerning the safety of their beloved. Amy had to wonder at her own choice concerning Dib; did Dib not realize exactly how dangerous this was? Would he put her life at risk?

She knew he was well-intended. It was important to get Zim out of the lab and let him escape with Gaz. Still, Amy did not believe it was necessary for Zim to be in the wedding at all, regardless of the convenience for his getaway. Zim agreed. There were so many things that could go wrong. And the road to hell is paved with good intentions, she thought wryly.

On a shallower note, for which she felt enormously guilty, it was her wedding after all, and she wanted it to be as perfect as possible.

Amy glanced in the mirror in front of her. Her warm red hair was pulled up into a regal, sweeping bun, with side bangs gently kissing her face. She'd just gotten her hair and makeup done in the last half hour, and had asked for some time alone from her friends and family. Soon she would have to return to them and eventually don the beautiful white dress she would wear down the aisle. Gaz, who was in her wedding party, had not arrived yet. She half-wondered if she'd even show up.

So far everyone seemed to buy the Zac story. It wasn't a big secret that Dib didn't have a ton of friends, so having Gaz's boyfriend fill the role of best man seemed a plausible concept. Amy had to admit that the disguise they'd come up with was quite excellent. Zim looked human, and nothing like himself. They'd utilized his personal technology to do the job… one he'd been too unintelligent to utilize properly when he'd first arrived on earth.

No, that's rude, thought Amy, twisting her shirt in her hands. Zim isn't unintelligent… he was naïve. It took him a while to figure things out. Understandably, really…

She sighed and dared to look at her reflection again. Her eyes were a bright light blue. The dark mascara and eyeliner helped them to pop and shine. Yet they looked empty to her.

What is wrong with me? she wondered. It's my wedding day.

Amy loved Dib. She'd loved him since she was fourteen years old. She'd been the quiet, pretty redhead hiding in the corner alone behind a book, her eyes focused on only one thing. It had taken her a full two years before she'd mustered up the courage to talk to him, and once he noticed she existed, things began to happen. She'd always been fascinated by his talk of aliens and the paranormal, and she'd listen to him for hours on end as he theorized and plotted. Zim was, of course, almost always the primary topic of conversation. Over time, this became less and less endearing. Now she was quite more than fed up with it.

No matter what happened, Dib would likely always have an obsession for Zim. Why shouldn't he, really?—the real live alien he himself discovered, thwarted, and somewhat befriended over the years was not something one forgot easily. After what he'd done to Zim and Gaz, he'd become obsessed with making things right. As far as Amy was concerned, nothing Dib had done in these situations was right; the mess only seemed to get worse. Today would change things—either Dib's plans would succeed and he could, hopefully, begin to move on from it, with only minimal interest… or they'd fail.

Nothing good could come of failure.

Amy glared at her reflection, suddenly angry; she threw a blanket over it and, with a moment's hesitation, hit the side of her fist against the wall. She felt like crying, but her eyes were dry. This was too much for her.

I'll always be second.

She leaned her head against the wall and begged herself to cry.

I'll always be second place for him.

The tears refused to come.