Zim and Tak slept apart from one another that night. It was the first time in a long time that they weren't curled up in the ship together. Instead, Zim had thrown himself back into working on the Curse, trying to decipher all the broken bits of code to assemble them into something that might actually be useful. At some point, a blink had turned into a brief sleep. He straightened up in his chair, grimacing as he tried to rub the soreness out of his neck.

"Guess I'll have to finish you up on the way to Earth," he said to the screen. He put a gloved hand on the monitor. It was warm and so old that it produced a fine haze of static that would probably nip his fingers later when it discharged. And inside, where he couldn't touch, was all the data that had made him Zim—or the Zim it had wanted him to be. He thought about what Tak said, about how she didn't know who she was anymore, in part because she had lost her PAK. He thought about what Lard Nar had said, too. Did he know who he was? Was he someone who wanted to go on a suicide mission to get revenge on the Tallest? Was that really what Tak wanted, too?

They were leaving today, most likely. Leaving the smog and seedy dealings of Cyberflox to set out on their mission. When they left the atmosphere, it would all become totally, irreversibly real. No turning back. Would they be okay with that? Would he be okay?

Zim pushed out his chair and stood. It would be awhile before breakfast was served, so the hangar was still and silent. But he knew before he even reached the main hold where the Resisty Mach 2 rested that Tak would be there, unable to sleep just like him. She was staring up at the ship, dusty but brilliant as it awaited its maiden voyage.

"Hey," he said, stopping a few feet behind her.

She turned to him. "Hey."

"Um," his hand went to the side of his head, tracing the scar. "Can we talk?"

"I don't really want to."

"But you said we need to communicate. All the time. No exceptions."

"I know I did," she sighed. "Let's go to the roof."

Cyberflox never got particularly light, not even at the height of day, so it always had that sickly yellow glow from countless artificial sources. They stood in that light together, on the rooftop of the Resisty's hangar—their hangar—and listened for a few moments as their dirty, temporary home grumbled to life around them.

"I assume this is about…what happened," Tak said, arms crossed.

Zim tongued at his bottom lip momentarily, still tender from her bite. "Partly, yes. But…mostly something else."

She raised her antennae expectantly.

He sighed, wishing more than anything that he had a couple of nebulas in him right now to help the words come out easier. "Are…are you sure—completely and utterly sure—that you want to go through with this mission?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Of course I do! Why would you even ask that question?"

"Because I've been thinking a lot about this whole situation. We have one ship—and it's a fine ship with really big guns and people to shoot them, but it has to go against the Armada which has…I don't even know how many they have, but it's a lot."

"We also have a legion of single-fighter ships for auxiliary defense and frontal attack," she countered.

"The Curse still isn't completely decrypted, so we don't have our Control Brain killer."

"But we're close. We'll keep working at it on board and have our virus complete before we reach the Scabs."

"And say we actually pull this mission off and don't get blown into star chunks the second we pop up on the Massive's scanners. Then what? The Empire will be in a state of upheaval without the Tallest and the Control Brains. So what do we do? Leave it to burn? Or dedicate the rest of our lives to picking up the pieces?"

"You don't even sound like yourself right now. Since when have you ever gotten worked up about the future?"

"Since…" Zim started to shout back his response, but stopped himself. Could he really bring himself to say it out loud?

"Since what?" Tak demanded.

He summoned his bravery and looked at her directly. "I don't have much time left, Tak."

"What?"

"There was a file on the captain's computer containing the results of the experiments they ran on me," he said. "One of those results was a lifespan prediction. I…I have 30 years left, at best."

Now her eyes were wide, the blood draining out of her face to leave her sickly pale.

"I know what you're going to ask, and yes, you and Skoodge have files as well. I didn't look at them. If you want to know what's inside, you can see for yourself," he said.

She shook her head slowly, though he wasn't sure if it was to reject his offer or just out of horrified astonishment.

"But, do you get it now?" he asked. "I…I'm scared, Tak. I can count the number of decades I have left on one hand. I just…I don't know if I want to spend them dealing with the consequences of my destruction. I've already ruined so much. Including…" he glanced at her, thinking of the sadness in her eyes after he told her he liked her, right before she walked away. He sighed. "Well, I guess there wasn't anything there to begin with."

Her brows pinched together, some of the color coming back to her face. "You don't want to do this," she said.

His eyes were on the ground. "I don't know."

"Why did you wait so long to tell me if you found this out when you killed the captain?"

"I thought revenge was still what I wanted. And the chance to make up for all that Curse nonsense. But…I don't know…"

"Quit saying you don't know. You do know. So, tell me: what changed?"

He lifted his head to look at her again. "We did. Last night."

"What does that have to do with any of this?"

"Everything, Tak!" he said, grabbing her shoulders. "Time after time on this nightmare of a mission, I've questioned whether I want to keep going, if it's all worth it, and the answer is always yes—but only if you and I are together. I don't even care about the mission anymore; it's not something I want to spend more of my limited time worrying about. But I'll do it if it means the rest of my life has you in it."

"Zim…" she said his name quietly, uncertainly.

His grip slackened and his hands fell away. Realizing what he'd just admitted, he began tracing his scar to ground himself in something other than his rising nausea. "Go ahead and say it: I'm an idiot and that was officially the stupidest thing to ever come out of my mouth."

Then Tak did something that nearly sent his head up through the traffic and into the hazy atmosphere. She came close to him and took the hand that rubbed his scar in her own, pulling it down to where she'd laced their other hands together.

"The only stupid thing you said was that you're only doing this mission for me," she said. "You have so much more purpose than that. I've seen it: on Dirt, and in the old warehouse, and when you went to kill Lard Nar. Fear has just made you lose sight of that purpose. Like you said, it's unregulated since we're without our PAKs. But you don't need your PAK to stand up to fear. And neither do I."

Leaning forward, Tak pressed her forehead to Zim's, shutting her eyes in the ultimate display of trust that an Irken could give. She raised her antennae until they touched his own, which happened to be straight up in shock. Pushing their flexibility to the limit, she coiled them around his, the twisting sensation causing him to shut his own eyes as a completely new emotion swelled in his chest.

Then he felt it: the nearly forgotten phenomenon of having two minds at once. It wasn't the perfect synchronicity of his PAK and it wasn't telepathy—not exactly. But impressions of Tak's emotions fluttered amongst his own in his skull, their unspoken thoughts mingling in rainbow flashes behind his eyelids. Their fear of the future was a yellow strobe light; the courage to face it, hand in hand, together, was a deep red sun. They mourned all the loneliness and cruelty and injustice the universe had dealt them in sharp blue laser beams; they cherished each gentle rest they had, back to back, together, and the happiness they felt knowing there were many more to come was a guiding green beacon. We have each other, echoed in their shared void, and Zim had no idea whether it was her voice or his own.

Slowly, the reality of the hangar roof bled back into focus. Tak carefully unwound her antennae from his, let go of his hands, and pulled her head away.

Then she abruptly stopped because one antenna didn't quite come loose. Their eyes met, wide from the unexpected pain, and they laughed. They reached up to free themselves at the same time, his hand knocking against hers, and they laughed harder. Because he had done it before, he finished the job of getting them free, and they each rubbed at their antennae as they caught their breath, which, somehow, was still harmonized.

"What…was that?" Zim asked, his tongue feeling numb.

"You don't remember? It's something very old that Irkens did long before PAKs—something the Control Brains haven't been able to squash out," Tak replied, a deep green hue coloring her cheeks.

"But what is it?" he asked.

Tak looked thoughtfully to the side. "Let's call it a kiss."

He felt his skin bristling with something akin to goosebumps. "What brought that on? I mean, after last night, I thought—,"

"I know, I know," she said. "I'm just not used to being…vulnerable like that. But you were vulnerable with me just now, and you clearly needed something to snap you out of that funk. So…"

"So…does this mean that you…have feelings? For me?"

"What are you, thick? I conveyed the depths of my being to you through an ancient mating ritual and you still don't have a clue? Really?"

"MATING?" Zim hollered, nearly toppling over.

"Well, sort of. It's not like we're equipped to complete the ritual. And don't act so prudish when you engaged me in a mating dance earlier," she said, crossing her arms.

"It wasn't like that! Not really!" he shouted. She laughed again and he just shook his head, staring off into the vaguely brightening sky that was Cyberflox's attempt at morning.

"Should we have breakfast on board? Before we blast off into the great beyond?" Zim asked.

She stood next to him, eyes on the same slice of sky between buildings. "I suppose we could have one last meal on the ground."

A pause.

"You really think we can pull it off?" he asked.

"Yes. Even if it doesn't go exactly to plan."

"And after…are we really going to be…"

"Together? I think that would be good…for GIR and MIMI's sake. They really seem to like each other."

"Yes, they do."

They climbed off the roof and back down into the hangar. Skoodge gave them a look over their breakfast that they tried to ignore. Then, with the crew at their stations and Zim and Tak at the helm of all operations, the Resisty Mach 2 rose off the ground, out of the hangar, and into its first brush of infinite space.

Zim didn't feel as strongly as he thought he would about leaving the planet where his life had changed so much. He supposed it was because he took all the things he needed with him for the long ride onward.

Well, just about.

Author Note: Unified at last! Now there's just one more thing he needs. ;)