Dib woke up still angry at about 8 in the morning and decided to take as long as possible getting ready before attempting conversation with Zim again. He took a long shower, tossed his dirty clothes into the laundry, and put away his other travel supplies. Then, because it needed it, he spent the rest of the morning and half the afternoon doing a deep clean of his room. Finally, when he could think of nothing else to do, he marched out to the garage.

Except Zim had taken the ship out of the garage and looked like he was getting ready to hop in and blast off at any second.

"Hey!" Dib yelled. "What the hell? You're done? And you're just gonna leave?"

"Yeah, what of it?" Zim asked, tossing a bag of candy into the cockpit so GIR would chase after it. "I've had enough of this lousy rock."

"And sticking around a few extra minutes to say goodbye would've been that painful?" Dib asked.

"Yes," Zim said.

Dib stamped his foot, sending it deeper into the ice-crusted snow. "You're such a jackass! How can you still treat me like shit after everything I did for you?"

"Are you referring to how you dragged me back and forth across the continent in the foulest-smelling, most tedious way possible and shoved my head in a toilet? Because I think that justifies my swift departure," Zim said. "I don't even know why I'm explaining myself to a worm-baby like you."

Dib's pulse throbbed angrily in his jaw, but he knew he had to choose his words carefully—if he blew a fuse like yesterday, Zim would be gone in a flash. "I know you're mad at me because of what I said in the garage. I shouldn't have said it, but I did, and I'm sorry. I'm just…angry. You're leaving and you didn't even try to find another way."

"Neither did you," Zim said.

"That's not even remotely the same," Dib said. Zim's words stung, so his own came out harsher than he wanted. "And, anyway, I told you I'd consider going to school nearby so we could still see each other. I changed my entire life plan to make you feel better."

"So you fell victim to Zim's persuasiveness, big deal," Zim said. "Am I supposed to feel bad now?"

"Maybe, yeah!" Dib said. "I don't understand what you want! What was the point of going on that trip and getting me to talk to you again if you're just gonna retcon everything by leaving?"

"I think you might be forgetting a small detail, Dib: my base exploded and now I only have GIR and this ship. There's nothing left for me here," Zim said.

"Well, you're forgetting a small detail, too, Zim," Dib said. "We're friends now and that means we can work together to figure something out. You have me and Gaz and my dad to help you, so if you just stay—,"

"Stop it!" Zim yelled, suddenly angry. "Stop it, stop it, stop it!"

"Stop what?" Dib yelled back.

"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST WANT ME GONE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE?" Zim said, clutching his head in his hands.

It clicked in Dib's brain: Zim didn't want to leave. Leaving meant that his mission, fake or not, was a failure. Leaving meant he had to accept that his base, his home, had been destroyed and that the Empire he'd thought was home for so long wouldn't take him back. Leaving meant he'd have to say goodbye to someone who accidentally became his friend. And it was tearing him apart, which in itself was a failure.

As much as he wanted Zim to stay, Dib knew he couldn't force him. And that he shouldn't. If there was one thing he learned from his trip with Zim, it was that truly being a friend meant supporting someone through hard decisions—even decisions that packed your bags and flung you to the opposite corner of the galaxy. It wasn't a concept Zim understood. But Dib could help him learn through example.

Dib walked to his car and rummaged in the backseat for his mother's collection of CDs. He returned to Zim, who was still in a clenched position by the ship, and knelt next to him in the snow.

"I want you to take these with you," he said.

Zim's eyes popped open. "What?"

"Don't say anything mean," Dib said. "Just take it."

Zim hesitantly reached forward, grimacing at the old leather case. "Why?" he asked.

Dib sighed. "Even though I haven't had this for long, it means a lot to me. But I think I need to let it go. Plus, I figure you're pretty used to having music during long trips. You'll make better use of it than me."

"You think that ship has technology primitive enough to activate these silly discs?" Zim scoffed.

"You'll figure something out. It'll be a fun project to work on until you get…wherever you're going," Dib said.

Zim sighed, lowering the case. "Why must you always burden me with your garbage, Dib-stink?"

"It's kinda my job at this point," Dib said.

Zim stepped into the ship and stowed the case somewhere Dib couldn't see. GIR made an excited, gargling noise that suggested his mouth was gummed up with candy. When Zim reappeared in the cockpit, he didn't exit the ship. Dib thought his expression must look pathetic, because Zim glanced awkwardly off to the side before speaking.

"You know…once I figure out how to fix my PAK, I'll be a fully functional soldier again. Empire or no, I may return to my mission for this planet. I can't deny my Invader's blood," Zim said.

"Sure. And I'll be waiting," Dib said.

"Good," Zim said. For a few moments it was quiet, aside from the empty wind and a distant black bird's caw.

"Hey, you should give me something in return," Dib said.

"How do you keep forgetting that all my things blew up?" Zim asked.

Dib snapped his fingers. "Let me take a picture of you! A good, not-blurry picture. It's something I've always wanted."

Zim smiled faintly. "Yes. You may take your silly photograph."

"Great!" Dib said. "Be right back!"

Dib rushed into the house and up the stairs to his room, seeking out his camera. It took a moment to find, his room's new lemon-scented organization running counter to its purpose. Then it was back outside and onto the lawn. The empty lawn with grassy patches where thrusters had melted their way through the snow.

Dib looked up. It had finally stopped snowing, so he could see the ship's shining arc as it grew smaller and smaller in the open sky—so small, it could've just been a regular passenger plane carrying people somewhere new, or maybe back home. It was hard to say, from his earthbound position in his insignificant backyard. Maybe someday he'd figure it out.