The next few days passed by in relative peace. Gaz and Gir continued to do their own things—Gir in particular was becoming very attached to the TV, and would usually watch at least one Dizney movie a day. Sometimes repeatedly.

Dib and Zim, on the other hand, had begun to work together, pouring over Dib's paranormal magazines and through some of his past research. Dib was still looking mostly for a way to turn Zim back, while Zim was more fascinated with the ways these cryptids could be used against other land creatures.

…of course, Dib would then start talking about the sort of beings they might be able to discover locally, which led to him making plans to actually go out and find them. Whenever Zim was there with him, he tried to convince the merken to come along with him.

But that would mean going outside, something Zim wasn't keen about doing…at least, not until he had a solution to defeat that horrid summer sun.

Still, Dib sometimes got very insistent. Eventually, Zim had had enough of him trying persuade him into combing the shores for evidence of sea monsters. "Do it yourself, if you love Nessie so much!" he said, turning and storming into the living room.

Fortunately, Dib was at least aware enough that Zim was ready to really lash out at him, and didn't follow. Actually…he had probably just decided to get more research done while he wasn't there, Zim mentally corrected.

Gaz and Gir were both in the living room, Gaz playing a game that chimed with music, while Gir was once again watching TV…even though Zim had specifically told him to resume research.

Still, he was too annoyed at the moment to care. He flopped onto the couch at the opposite end as Gaz, pressing his face into his pillow and groaning.

"My brother finally drove you insane with his rambling, huh?" Gaz said, not even glancing up from her game.

"Ugh..." Zim groaned, rolling onto his side and dragging his hands down his face. "How can you stand him when he gets like this?"

"Ignoring him helps." A few chimes came from her device, and she briefly flashed a smile. "Do it for long enough, and he'll eventually accept you're really not listening."

Zim's antennae perked up. "And that will make him stop, yes?"

"No, he'll keep talking to you about it. He just won't be surprised that you don't remember anything that he tells you."

Zim flopped his head into the couch pillow with a groan. Gaz continued to play, the device still chiming and making his antennae twitch. After a few minutes, he raised his head to narrow his eyes at her, antennae swiveled in her direction.

"What is that."

"Vampire Piggy Hunter: Rhythm Fever Blast," she answered. "It's one of their better spin-off series."

"Spin...off...?"

"Yeah, you know. A series that's a slightly different genre of a popular series." She glanced up for just long enough to see his still-confused expression. "Video games?"

"...what are those?" he asked.

This was apparently the wrong thing to say. Gaz immediately snapped her game shut and jumped onto her feet. "You don't know what video games are? Ugh, I figured for as 'great' as your Empire is, you'd have the magic version of them or something."

Her eyes were open, and the look on her face was intense. Zim sat up and pressed away from her. She turned and stormed into her room, clearly on a mission.

She returned soon after, holding something in her hands that she quickly tossed into his lap. He yelped and picked it up, holding it as far away from his body as she could. "Relax. It's just my old Game Slave. I brought it so I could trade characters with myself."

Zim blinked, carefully looking over the object. It…did resemble Gaz's gaming device, though this one was slightly bulkier, and the colors of the buttons had faded due to use. "…why have you given it to Zim?"

"So that you can play video games and ignore the soul-crushing dullness of life," Gaz responded. She handed him a cartridge. "Here, you can start with this. It's an extra copy of Vampire Piggy Slayer Silver Edition I haven't played on yet."

Zim glanced between the device and the cartridge. He flicked the game into the system, then shifted so he was sitting comfortably. "Pfft, fine," he said, rolling his eyes as he turned the device on. "I'm only doing this because you insist, Gaz-terror. I doubt I'll enjoy such primitive human activities."

"Gaz-human! This boar refuses to bow before the might of ZIM! Tell Zim how to crush him, NOW!"

"Oh, are you at the Blood Boar already?" Gaz said, still plugging away at her own game. "That was quick."

"He's killing Zim! Make him stoooop!"

"Just keep throwing garlic at him until he shows his weak spot," she instructed. Seconds later, she added, "But watch out for the fire burst attack."

"Nngah!" The device in Zim's hand chimed with game over music, and he tossed it into the couch cushion in frustration. "This is stupid. Your human games are stupid."

"Whatever you say."

Zim crossed his arms with a huff, leaning back against the couch arm and pouting. After several seconds ticked by, he crawled forward and picked the game back up again.

"So much for 'primitive' and 'stupid', huh?" Gaz said.

Zim growled and grumbled, turning the game back on and continuing to play from his last save point. "This device has infected me with brain worms," he said. "That's the only possible explanation."

"And yet, you're still playing."

"Hmph." Zim didn't say anything else in response, too focused on slaying the waves of enemies swarming in his direction.

His antennae gave the slightest twitch as he registered the sound of approaching footsteps. Someone leaned on the couch behind him and looked over his shoulder, but Zim was too busy to glance up.

"Found another 'human' thing that you like, huh?" Dib said with a chuckle.

"Silence, Dib-beast. Can you not see I'm busy?"

"Okay, okay." Dib stood up and headed into the kitchen. "I was thinking of scouting some old buildings around here after lunch, see if there are any that are haunted. Gaz, Zim—?"

"Not interested," Gaz responded immediately.

Zim paused his game to look incredulously up at Dib. "You expect me to go outside? In the afternoon? When that horrible sun will once again attack Zim!?"

"I have a plan to keep the sun from affecting you so much," Dib said. "Besides, you can't hide out in here forever."

"Hah! That's what you might think," Zim said. "But I, Zim, can easily survive in here until the end of your pathetic human lifespan!"

Gaz hummed. "You won't last two more days until you go stir-crazy from being stuck in here."

"Lies!"

Dib sighed, fixing himself a small microwave pizza. Gir crawled up to sit next to him on the counter, giving him puppy dog eyes and pointing to the cabinet with his claw. "…look," Dib said as he grabbed some crackers for Gir. "I'm sure that an amazing and talented merken would be able to flush out ghosts even if I can't…"

Zim's antennae perked up, and Dib turned to hide his grin. Stroking Zim's ego was probably something he would regret in the long run, but for now…

"I suppose I could spare the time to assist you," Zim said, moving into the kitchen to grab some Pop-tarts. "But only if you do as you say and protect Zim, human!"

"I will, I will," Dib assured him. He sat down with his lunch while going through some of his equipment, and Zim continued to play while absentmindedly eating his own meal.

Once they had both finished, Dib urged Zim to put his disguise back on. The merken complained about it, but slipped on his wig and contacts. After a bit of coaxing, he put his boots on, as well…and Dib finally pulled out his plan—a tube of white grease and an empty bottle.

"What is that supposed to be?" Zim asked, watching with slight disgust as Dib poured some of the white grease into his palm.

"It's sunscreen. This might not be great at keeping you cool, but it'll keep your skin from burning under the sun," Dib explained as he dabbed the sunscreen onto Zim's arms.

Zim's face scrunched up, and if he had a nose, it would be wrinkled. "That stuff stinks," he gagged. "And it's too cold and slimy. I hate it."

"It'll keep you protected, though."

"I still hate it." But still, Zim snatched the bottle from him and dabbed some on his face, smearing it about.

Dib glanced up once he finished with his arms and sighed. "You've got white streaks all over," he said. "I can fix them."

"Fine," Zim said. Dib reached up and started rubbing his greasy fingers over Zim's face, and Zim quickly backed up. "What are you doing?"

"Fixing the streaks!"

"Zim will do it himself! Keep your disgusting fingers away from my face!" Zim closed his eyes, pressed his palms against his face, and rubbed until he was certain everything was smoothed out.

He lifted his head, and Dib nodded in approval. "That works," he said. "And…" He went into the kitchen and filled the empty bottle with water and ice cubes. "If you feel hot or thirsty, just take a drink of this."

He handed Zim the bottle. "Though we'll probably be in a lot of other buildings, so direct sun shouldn't be that much of a problem, anyway."

Zim nodded thoughtfully. "Yes…yes, these preparations should be adequate."

"And if you do start feeling light-headed or overheated, tell me!" Dib said. "It'll be easier to bring you home conscious than carry you across the beach again."

Zim frowned. Admitting weakness was still…unacceptable, but so was showing weakness by passing out in front of him. Hopefully Dib's plan would be enough…so he waved off the human's concerns. "I'll be fine. Nothing can harm Zim."

"Mhmm." Dib rose an eyebrow, clearly not believing him. "Anyway, ready to try and find some ghosts?"

He opened the front door and stepped out, Zim slowly following. Once he was sure the sun wouldn't immediately fry him to a crisp, he turned to look back in the house.

"Gir! Organize my plans while I'm out," he barked. "And do some research into more human customs!"

"Yes, Sir!" Gir saluted him, pulling himself into his can and rolling off of the kitchen table and over to the couch. Zim nodded and closed the door, turning back to Dib.

"…you know he's probably going to get immediately distracted by the TV, right?" he said.

Zim sighed. "I'm aware. But it'll keep him away from these dangerous 'geese'."

"Ghosts, Zim. Ghosts. And they're not always dangerous."

Zim scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Just getting moving already, stinky."

Over the next several hours, Dib dragged Zim through the nearby town, stopping whenever they came across old or abandoned buildings…or sometimes randomly at street corners to pull out some sort of device that chimed in different tones.

None of the humans around even bat an eye at either of them, so Zim felt confident that his disguise was actually perfect.

At each old building, Dib would glance around a few times before sneaking inside. The buildings were always at the fringes of the town, so no one was really around to witness them. Once inside, he would pull out several items and wander through the building for several long minutes before finally giving up…though not without examining every possible inch of the structure.

"Can't you use your merken magic to detect specters?" Dib complained as they left their third abandoned home. It, just like the two before, and the old movie theater, were apparently empty of undead.

"It doesn't work like that," Zim scoffed as Dib looked at that beeping device once again. The sun wasn't as high in the sky, but the air was still hot…Zim took a drink of water. He wasn't feeling overheated, but his fainting spell on the beach made him a little cautious.

"…how does it work?" Dib asked, putting his device away and picking a direction to go in.

Zim snorted. "Powerful merkens like the Tallest can mold the world around them. Alter the weather, transform…creatures…" He shuddered. "Lesser but still great merkens like myself can create potions and artifacts, and many merkens can use their magic in the form of luring songs or lights."

"…so…did you use some kind of artifact to sink the ship?"

"You still have no proof." Zim sneered at him.

Dib glared at him. "…and you can't create some kind of ghost-tracking artifact?"

Zim looked away, twiddling his fingers. "Eh…not without my supplies. Which are underwater. And not without having seen one of these undead before. And not with my magic so…" He gulped.

"So…?" Dib tilted his head, brow furrowed. "…Zim. Are you not—?"

Zim roughly shoved his shoulder, cutting him off. "Just pick the next useless building we can search already, mud boy!"

"Alright, alright!" Dib kept walking, and Zim crossed his arms. The rest of the walk was in silence.

The next building Dib picked out was a small, dilapidated one right next to the water. There were even the remains of a dock behind it, though they had mostly rotted away.

Zim felt a prickle on the back of his neck as he entered, which he reached back to scratch at. "How long is this going to take?" he asked, looking around as Dib pulled out his equipment.

"Shouldn't be too long," Dib said. A few of his devices whirred and chirped, and a grin spread across his face. "Looks like we might have found something!"

Zim snorted, looking through the room. It had typical human furniture, though it was faded and waterlogged. "Then where is it, human?" He gave a large pot that might have once held a plant a rough kick. It wobbled and tipped over onto its side.

A hush felt over the room, and it felt for a moment like the air had been sucked out. Zim's neck continued to prickle, and now his antennae were vibrating, too, picking up something that wasn't sound or smell.

"Zim," Dib hissed. "Don't break anything else. And…" He nodded forward.

Standing on the other side of the room was a transparent figure, faintly glowing white. It looked vaguely human, but its long white dress and bluish hair covered any identifying features. Dib's eyes shone in fascination, and he quickly, quietly snapped a photo with his camera before stepping forward.

"Excuse me?" he said to the ghost. "My name is Dib. I'm a paranormal investigator. Would you mind answering a few questions?"

The ghost just stared at him. Zim's antennae vibrated faster, and he reached up to grab onto his wig to keep it from being knocked off of his head.

"…can you speak?" Dib asked next.

"How's it supposed to answer that if it can't talk, fool?" Zim snapped at him.

The ghost's attention snapped right to him. It slowly raised its head enough to shift its blue hair, and the lower half of a skeletal face was revealed. It raised a thin arm and pointed a bony finger at Zim.

"…you," it hissed. Its voice echoed in their minds more than it was actually audible. Zim's face scrunched up in disgust. Dib looked absolutely fascinated. "You're one of them. The monsters that killed me."

"…you were killed by merkens?" Dib asked, taking another photo before quickly taking notes. "Do you think you could tell me what year, how old you are? …it wasn't Zim specifically that did it, was it?"

"Of course not," Zim scoffed. "I would have remembering defeating something so hideous." And…none of his attempts to destroy humans near here had been successful. Not that Dib needed to know that.

The ghost looked back to Dib. "Noisy thing. Nosey thing. Friend of monsters?"

"I…Zim is a merken, not a monster," Dib said. "Trust me, there's a very specific definition as to what actually counts as a 'monster' in paranormal circles, and merkens don't really fit. Unless you mean morally, then—"

The air grew heavier, colder. "It's not happy. It's tired of your rambling," Zim groaned, rubbing at his temples to get rid of the headache there. "Not that I can blame it."

Dib's mouth clicked shut, and he paused a moment before quickly finishing. "…yeah. Zim's my friend."

Zim turned to him, staring at the human carefully. That word was significant to humans. "…I suppose Zim is your friend, as well," he slowly responded. The word seemed foreign on his tongue, but it still felt right.

Dib turned and smiled at him, tears in the corners of his eyes. The ghost let out a drawn-out hiss, like a deflating balloon, interrupting their moment.

"Sea thing. Annoying thing. Friends…traitors." It hovered a little higher into the air, glowing brighter. Dib quickly snapped photos.

Zim stiffened and growled at the word 'traitor'. "Who cares what you think!? You're a human…a dead human! Your opinions are less than worthless!"

"Zim," Dib said in a warning tone. "Don't aggravate it."

"Tiny things. Fragile things," the ghost hissed. "...you won't be leaving here alive."

All the doors and windows slammed closed, and the room grew a degree colder and shade darker. The ghost vanished.

"Uh-oh," Dib squeaked, face going pale.

Zim's eyes widened, his head whipping back and forth. "Dib-stink, if you've gotten us both killed here, I'll kill you!"

"Don't panic!" Dib said. "Just...stay where you are! I'm going to come over there, and we can figure a way out."

Zim snarled, head still whipping back and forth, but he stayed rooted to the spot. His hands twitched, and he dropped into a fighting stance, teeth and claws ready.

Dib started slowly making his way over, one careful step at a time. "Hurry it up!" Zim hissed at him.

"Shh!" Dib shushed. "Not so loud, you might upset them."

"It's already upset, fool worm!" Zim yelled. As soon as he raised his voice, the air seemed to shift, and he felt a chill at the base of his neck.

He screeched, whirling around and biting at the air behind him. The specter, still invisible, let out a screech that matched his own in volume, the howling slowly growing higher and higher in pitch until Zim was forced to shut his eyes and press his hands over his head to block out the sound.

"Zim!" Dib cried, clearly panicked.

Zim turned to shoot him a glare, perhaps hiss about how this was all his fault—but froze with the words stuck in his throat.

The ghost had suddenly re-materialized in between the two of them…except now it was much, much bigger. It loomed all the way to the ceiling, ethereal robes drifting around it as it glared down at Zim with hate-filled, glowing red eyes.

"You…" it hissed, revealing a mouth full of sharp fangs. "You're dead!"

It lunged forward, jaws opening wide enough to swallow Zim whole. The merken snarled and glared, claws bared as he prepared to fight…even as something at the very core of him rattled and screamed that he was going to die.

Just as the teeth passed over his head, and he felt colder than he ever had in his life (even colder then the time he journeyed to the Arctic), the ghost wrenched back and away from him with a pained scream.

Zim's eyes slowly widened. Patches of the ghost were…dissolving, even as it clawed at itself in a desperate attempt to stop whatever was happening. More patches appeared in its midsection, and it whirled around…

…to glare at Dib, who was holding a water gun and glaring at the specter. "Holy water!" he declared. "Leave him…leave us alone, or I'll exorcise you!"

The ghost snarled. "…I can kill the sea monster before you do!"

It turned back to Zim—but before it could even try to attack, Dib rapidly fired streams of the holy water at its head and neck. They dissolved just as it was lunging towards Zim again, forming gobs of glowing blue liquid that splattered all over the merken.

The rest of the ghost soon followed until there was just a puddle of glowing liquid that Zim realized was very viscous. In a daze, he reached up to pull gobs of the stuff off of himself, flicking it away.

"…it won't be coming back," Dib panted, slowly dropping his empty weapon. "Not for…a while, anyway."

"Good…" Zim stared wide-eyed at where the ghost had been just moments prior. He had Dib both panted heavily…and Dib slowly slumped into one of the old chairs with a quiet groan. Zim's legs wobbled, and he slumped to the floor.

"…you almost got me killed, fool boy," Zim said in a hushed whisper. He tried to stand up, but his knees were still shaking, so he just ended up falling back down.

"But I didn't…let it," Dib huffed. "I stopped it. Everything was under control."

He grinned and held up his camera with a shaking hand. "And I got photos this time!"

Zim glared at him. "…I'm going to break that," he threatened. "As soon as I can walk straight again." Or stand up, for that matter.

Dib held the device protectively against his chest. "Don't you dare."

Zim just shot him a wicked grin, raising his brows in a way that told Dib he was definitely going to break it the first chance he got. Dib glared at him…before breaking out into a smile, a weak, breathy chuckle escaping him.

One chuckle seemed to open the floodgates, as he slumped further into the old chair, throwing his head back and laughing quietly. Zim's lips wobbled…and his grin widened, his eyes brightening with amusement. He soon joined in on the laughter, cackling loudly.

The two of them laughed and laughed until they were out of breath. Dib wheezed, reaching up to wipe a tear out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to come cryptid hunting with me again?" he asked, a few chuckles still escaping him.

Zim let out a few more cackles, pulling himself back onto his feet. "I'll have to, to make sure the next thing you look for doesn't kill you," he declared. "…or at least so I'm there to watch it happen."

"Gee, thanks," Dib said dryly. Still, he smiled genuinely at Zim as he stood up, then bent down to scoop some of the goop into an empty jar. He then took a few photos of the puddle, then walked around it and offered a hand to Zim.

"Do you feel cold at all? Sad?" he asked as he tucked his equipment away. Zim sneered down at his hand, but his useless land legs still felt like jelly, so…he took it.

"Not as much now that the horrid thing is dead," he huffed. "Or deader, I suppose."

"I'll treat you to some chocolate ice cream on the way back," Dib said, still holding his hand as they headed to the front door. It was still closed, but one good kick was enough to slam it open. "Chocolate's a good cure-all against the emotional attacks specters use. It'll remove any lingering side effects."

Zim blinked a few times as they entered the sunlight. It was still hot outside, but this time, it felt good after the sudden chill he had faced. "Can't you just give me more of those snack cakes?"

"I can do that, too, but I can get ice cream faster. Besides, it's sweet, so you'll like it."

Zim huffed, neither agreeing or disagreeing. His eyes drifted down to Dib's bag, where he knew he had tucked his camera away.

He let his hand slip out of Dib's own, then waited a few minutes before slowly reaching for the bag…

Dib quickly shifted it away and out of his reach. "Not this time, fish boy."

Zim growled and lunged forward, flailing to try and grab the bag. Dib used his taller stature to his advantage, holding his bag overhead with one hand and pushing Zim back with the other. Wide smiles were on both of their faces.

Their shoving and bantering lasted all the way to the ice cream shop, and they only stopped because someone snapped that it they couldn't calm down, they wouldn't be served.