*Cocks head* Y'know, I spent like, two minutes writing this thing, but the quality of writing seems a little better, maybe because this is my first 'serious' fic. Also I wrote this in Depressed Mode... it's not really angsty, just serious. Also, on a Freudian level, this is pretty slashy... it's not SUPPOSED to be slashy, but interpret it however you like:c) Also, Dib fans, (if there are any Dib fans who still read my fics:c) don't be irritated by Zim's monolouge, I promise you Dib has his say.
Anyways, REVIEW! Should I stick to writing in Hyper Mode? Is the writing here good, or too melodramatic? I already have an idea for my NEXT serious fic.... but I'm not tellin' what it is! I'll probably write it even if I get flamed, but I'd really REALLY like to know what you think, especially since I can't ever tell if my writing's good or not. Seriously, half the time I'll write something I think sucks, and everyone'll rave about it, but then I find out they hate a piece that I thought was great.
Since I already gave a reason for why no one notices how Zim's green, now I'm giving a reason for why Zim and Dib never come CLOSE to defeating each other. Sure, you could just say 'IT'S JUST A CARTTON, YOU SILLY LITTLE FANGIRL!' But what's the fun in that?
One more thing, *crowd groans, and looks at their watches* I've decided I'm setting a new goal for myself, I'm going to write a fic in each genre, (ie: one drama, one angst, one horror, ect;) I've already written fics in General, Humor, Drama, Parody, and Action/Adventure. (I don't count 'Bad Stuff Place' for horror, cuz.... well, I just don't really like it.) Which leaves Romance, Poetry, Mystery, Horror, Angst, Supernatural, Sci-fi and Fantasy.
Now that you are all lulled into a catatonic state by my ramblings, on wit da fic!
---------
The stars. When you're in space, that's the only time you can really see the stars. Little icy pinpricks that seem to giggle with unsupressed joy, just happy to exist, to glow and dance before you. Whether you're delighted or disturbed by their overwhelming presence is of no concern to them. They simply shine in the sky's black, satin embrace. They never think of those that watch them...
Zim looked away from the window. The humbling veiw from his significantly enlarged Voot Runner was nothing new to him, yet it always left him contemplative. The stars. They never think of those that watch them, that watch them obsessivly night after night, searching for something. But he did. He couldn't help but do so. Because he had once known a person who had searched the stars for answers, and found them. Dib, oh that damn Dib.
He felt his thoughts fall into the well-worn rut that they eventually traveled night after night. Memories clouded his mind, obscuring the clear, individual thoughts. He saw his past on Earth as an ambigous rush of images and sounds. His first day of skool, how he had sat, sweating, for an endless moment in which he was certain his cover was blown. He had just gathered enough strength to activate the self-destruct mechinisim the Tallest had insisted he have implanted in his wrist, when he heard those words from behind him. "Oh, not again, you're crazy."
Yes, he would be hearing those words quite a lot in his encounters with the Dib-human. And he thought he'd go on hearing them forever... But that was to change, and once the change had begun, it accelerated. Dib had gone from a little kid who needed his father's permisssion to attend a single Swolen Eyeball meeting, to a full-fleged agent, compleate with a code name in a matter of days. Within a month, he had begun to see Them, hiding in the shadows, Their features blurred into one dark mass, until all that was visible were Their eyes, those sneaky, decitful, ever-watching eyes. He made excuses for Their precence, not wanting to believe he was in any real danger. But not even he could deny it when they came to his house.
Now came the hardest part, the most painful memories. He remembered... He had taken his time in responding to the security breach, having been desensitized by repeated false-alarms, induced by Gir's carelessness. Gir...
Despite the robot's general, well, stupidity, Zim really did like the little guy. But those few, precious seconds wasted had been a near-fatal mistake. He had barely enough time to get Gir, an act which cost him an additional few minutes, since Gir seemed to think it was all some kind of game.
He turned, and looked at the little robot, staring facinated out the same window he was at a moment ago. At seemingly random moments he would burst out in hysterical laughter, then lapse back into silence. Gir had certainly remained unchanged by the whole ordeal, with the exception of a severed arm, which was easily repaired. And, without a nervous system to alert Gir to the pain he should be feeling, niether of them had even noticed the missing limb until the chaos had died down, and they were in orbit above the Earth's one, misrable, dirty moon. Which was probably for the best, as Gir had then begun to start crying about how he missed his arm, and how he knew his arm must be lonely without it's brother, and couldn't they go back and get it? Zim hadn't bothered trying to explain why they couldn't. It would have been an exercise in futility, and Gir would forget his arm's woes once he found another sutible distraction. Besides, at the moment, Zim could only think of the woes of one person, horrible, painful woes, woes he knew he would soon... woe upon that Dib
Dib. He hadn't even seen him the on day it had actually happened, but he knew he was behind it. It was for the best. He was able to retreat from those filthy human Eyeballs, but had Dib been there, and visible... He had never been able to intentionaly show weakness in front of Dib, even when it would have been smarter of him to do so. His memories changed their course, temporarily, to his first encounter with rain, that vile liquid falling from the sky, corrupting the heavens. He should have stayed under the protective awning outside of the skool until it had passed. Though he hadn't felt it's full effects yet, he had stuck out his hand to catch a single drop, and had pulled it back steaming. And yet, when he felt Dib's eyes on him, saw that smug, cocky smirk on his smarmy little face... It had made him want to swim in that acidic fluid, damn the pain, he was an Invader! He would show him. And he had stepped out in that storm, defying all instincts of self-preservation. And after that all he remembered was pain...
He turned his thoughts back to their previous path, may as well finish the memory, get it over with fast. He saw clearly in his mind, the faces of the Eyeballs, hidden, as always, under Their hats and trenchcoats. But he could see in Their watchfull eyes what They were thinking... /he's headed for the attic... he's trapped, we've got him trapped.../ Oh, how, for one breif moment his rage and fear had parted to let through pure, untainted amusment, when he saw the shock in Their swollen eyes. For They had reached the attic just in time to see the Voot Runner lift off, with him inside. Even then, They did not give up the chase, shooting at him with some kind of simplistic human weapon, propelling flimsy nets at him. And when he had gone out of range, They switched to lazer pistols, aiming for his rockets, hoping to make him crash, to leave him unconcious, defensless. They aimed well, hitting him with several good shots, and for a breif, terrifying moment, he had actually feared he would crash. That he would sleep and awake to the sight of a glinting scalpel... and Dib's sneer...
He had dipped low over a hill, barely missing it. Dozens of explosives were being deployed from far off. One of the walls was ripped wide open by the force of one explosion, and jagged shards of metal were sticking out at wild angles, adding to the surrealisim of the moment. It was probably then that Gir's arm was severed, although Zim couldn't be sure.
Another thing he was unsure of was when the self-destruct for his base had been activated. All he knew was that after he had found the safety of a far-off cave, and repaired the damaged Voot runner, he had attempted to start the sequence, only to discover there was no need. Had the computer sensed the nature of the situation immediately upon his departure? If so, would that mean the humans inside had gone up with it, following him through the sky on a firey path of their own? He knew that some perverse part of him should feel satisfaction at that, but he really could not feel more contempt for Them than he felt for all humans. No, there was only one person whose hellish end he would truely relish... and he would relish it soon, very soon.
-------
The stars. Late, absurdly late at night, that's the only time you can really see the stars. Little icy pinpricks that seem to giggle with unsupressed joy, just happy to exist, to glow and dance before you. Whether you're delighted or disturbed by their overwhelming presence is of no concern to them. They simply shine in the sky's black, satin embrace. They never let on what secrets they hold...
Dib lowered his gaze from the telescope lens. He used to find this veiw inspiring, but now it only left him contemplative. The stars. They never let on what secrets they hold, what horrible, terrifying secrets they hold. But he knew, because he had once known one of those guilty secrets. Zim...
He let his thoughts replay the scenes he always felt them fall into night after night. That first night, which had found him, as had many, many nights, up on the roof of his house, monitoring for transmissions. Then, suddenly, so suddenly it had took him a minute to realize it, a frequency came through. After hours of frantic work, trying desperatly to decode the signal before it faded, to decifer the strange language he heard over the airwaves, he had finally captured a small snatch of words, enough to know one thing. They were coming.
He had raced down from the roof, making a less than dignified entrance through the kitchen window. He couldn't believe it, he felt the pressure of his excitment welling up behind his eyeylids. He had shaken his father, babbled frantically to Gaz, trying to MAKE them understand. It was one thing when they didn't believe his theories, but THIS! As always, they were underwhelmed.
This image was replaced by another, as a face more familar than his own filled his mind. Zim. He remembered, everything he had ever exchanged with the alien, every insult, every threat, every petty victory, seemed to all lead up to that day, his final victory. That day... The images had been etched forever on his mind, an everlasting woodcut depicting that eventful day. They hadn't let him near the house, saying it was a job for professionals. Oh, what he would have given to be there, to see Zim's face as he knew defeat. Zim had struggled too, of that there was no doubt. He hadn't seen, but he had heard of how Zim had blown up his own house, obviously with the hopes of taking someone with him. Agents Darkbootie and Creepyname had barely escaped. His evidence had been destroyed, Zim was dead. He couldn't help but feel some sadness.
Yes, he felt very sad, and some still, small part of him cried that it wasn't just loss of evidence he wept for. But he let the matter drop.
It mightn't have mattered even if Zim was captured. Despite his fantasies of the renown that he knew must result from not being crazy, after the event, the Eyeballs had barely said a thing about it. All he knew was they had cornered Zim in the attic, or something, and shortly thereafter, the house had exploded. And, soon, they had started to ingnore him more and more, until he was no longer a member, except in the offical sense, and later even that was denied him. It became all too obvious that once they had started to believe him, they were only using him to get to Zim, and now, they no longer needed him.
Since then, his life had become extrodinaly ordinary. Skool was easy, socialization a waste of time, and although he was still facinated with the paranormal, he didn't hold the same level of obsession for it. That had left him pleny of time to think about Zim. Zim... how he hated him. Even memory of him conjured up feeling of rage, and yet... there was something else too. Respect, perhaps? No, that wasn't quite it... it was something he couldn't put his finger on. He sighed, folded up his telescope and started home.
Upon reaching his house, he spotted a folded piece of paper with his name written on it. He stared at it. The handwriting was familar, the letters squashed and slightly crooked, as if the writer was accustomed to using a different alphabet. He picked it up and unfolded it.
You made a mistake when you thought I'd died,
Didn't you know Irkens had nine lives?
A single bead of persperation that had been at breaking point toppled over his brow. 'Irkens'... that was an entirely unfamilar word to him. It suddenly occured to him that, with all he knew about Zim, he had never found out the name of his home planet. Could it be...? No! No, Zim was dead, he'd seen the place where his house had been, nothing remained, not even rubble or a smoking crater, the whole thing had just... dissolved! But what evidence had he that Zim was even in it at the time? How did he know it was even Zim who caused the destruction of his base, pehaps the Eyeballs had apprehended Zim, then destroyed the house and came up with a fake story to prevent his further meddling? But if that was so, how could he have sent this message, had he escaped? Or had he even been caught in the first place? Could it be...? There was more writing on the back, he turned the note over.
Love,
Zim
"Noooooooooo!" screamed Dib, head angled to the cold, apathetic stars. He steadied himself. Now was not the time to panic, now was the time to prepare. If Zim is sending him this note NOW, he must be planning an attack. His mind raced, he was no longer able to reach the Eyeballs, he would have to rely soley on his own resorces, maybe he'd be able to borrow a few of Dad's things... He raced inside, breifly catching a glimpse of his face in a mirror hanging from the wall, and halted in shock of what he saw. Was he... smiling?
Well, he supposed he was. He was getting back into the routine he had gone through countless times before, this was it, this was what he used to live for.
Was he NUTS??? He asked himself. There was a vengence-crazed alien coming to kill him and he was standing around REMINISCING??? What on Earth was he doing?
------
What on Irk was he doing? Zim asked himself. It hadn't been the first time that night he had done so. It would be so much safer to make a new disguse, land the Voot Runner in some distant town, and lay low until the Armada arrived. Or, if he had to have revenge, why not simply disintagrate Dib's house, with him in it? He was an Invader, not a Warrior. He was taught to operate on secrecy. Though, in his time on Earth, he had never been very good at that, and it had nearly been his undoing many times. The memories began to wash over him once more. He remembered...
He could have gotten in and out of Dib's body before he knew what was happining, he could have won! But he had been unable to deny himself the pleasure of gloating, and he had ended up spending two disgusting hours in the Membrane's septic tank, waiting for Gir to retrieve him. ....
And again, it had happened, true, Dib had his suspicions when the hologram of a dog had passed the window a fourth time, but he still had no real knowlege of what he was up against. But Zim had relvealed the entire plan to him, and Dib had escaped his moosey fate....
Time and time again, victory could have been his! And time and time again, he had let it slip through his gloves. Why? He knew it wasn't just pride, there was something more to it...
-----
There was something more to it... Yes, now Dib remembered! He attached a squat black rod to the thechnical-looking gun he was carrying. He had almost forgotten the destabilizer, without that the gun wouldn't have fired at all. He couldn't believe he had almost forgotten it, it had been right next to the rest of the gun, there was no way he had just overlooked it.
A strange, seemingly unrealted thought flashed breifly accross his mind. It was about accident-prones, people who would be clumsy because they felt guilty and subconciusly wanted to hurt themselves. But he didn't feel guilty about anything. Some part of him, in the back of his mind, told him that it wasn't about guilt. "Then what?" he said, out loud, frusterated. "You're talking to yourself again..." said Gaz sullenly from nearby. "I don't talk to myself." He muttered automatically. "There you go again." she said.
Dib started out the door towards where Zim's house used to be.
----
Zim landed near where his house used to be. This was where Dib would assume he would be, and this was where he would go. In a slightly more negative tone, he wondered what motivation Dib had for going here. After all, it was entirely possible he was in a safehouse somewhere, with more of those filthy Eyeballs on their way right now. But he thought of this in an unconcerend, detachted sort of way. He knew Dib would show up, somehow, he just *knew*.
----
Dib walked up the sidewalk, without the slightest bit of reluctance. He didn't pause as he saw the minature spaceship that doubtlessly belonged to Zim. He walked into the now-vacant lot... and saw him.
-----
Zim turned at the sound of approaching feet... and saw him.
----
For the first time in over a year, their eyes met, and they stood for an instant, staring at each other.
----
Zim was the first to speak. "Hello Dib." he said simply. And in those two words was everything. Every word they had ever exchanged. Every blow they had ever recieved, at the hands of the other. Every ounce of rage he had ever felt towareds him. And every second spent thinking about him. "Hello" Dib replied, relaying an equal amount of emotion, yet with such casualness they could have seen each other just yesterday. Then, for a while, neither said anything, they simply stared at each other, taking in every detail of this moment that each knew would be either their finest or their last. Then, slowly, gracefully, and somehow, without malice, Zim unfolded his metalic legs and reared up on them. Dib did not react, he simply continued to stare. Neither he, nor Zim, could quite understand what was happening. Intellectually, they knew they wanted each other dead, but emotionally, neither could bring themselves to attack.
Then they knew. It happened suddenly, unexpectedly, and left them both with a detached, bewildered calmness. It came and went in both of them, and there was a mutal understanding that would stay with them forever. It came differently to each of them. Dib saw himself as a very small child, on the roof of his house each night, listening expectedly, hoping for the one thing, the only thing he knew could feel the gap he had felt inside since his mother had died.
To Zim, he saw himself at the Invaders Acadamy, being prepared for whatever assignments the future might hold for him. He remembered being warned that he would face a great deal of suspicion, and that he must never let his guard down. He remembered thinking how he would face his enimies with gusto and bravery.
They both knew what would happen next. Dib would go home now. Zim would rebuild his house and make a new disguise. Life would continue as it had before. But something would be different now.
Although Zim would still try to destroy Dib, and Dib to expose Zim, they would both know that niether would ever happen. For although they hated each other, in some sick, sad and twisted way, they needed each other too. They compleated each other's lives, gave each other a reason to exist. And they would allow no one, not even themselves, to take that away.
As the figure of Dib retreated, a funny thought flickered through Zim's mind. "Dib?" he called quietly. Dib turned. "See you tomorrow."
Anyways, REVIEW! Should I stick to writing in Hyper Mode? Is the writing here good, or too melodramatic? I already have an idea for my NEXT serious fic.... but I'm not tellin' what it is! I'll probably write it even if I get flamed, but I'd really REALLY like to know what you think, especially since I can't ever tell if my writing's good or not. Seriously, half the time I'll write something I think sucks, and everyone'll rave about it, but then I find out they hate a piece that I thought was great.
Since I already gave a reason for why no one notices how Zim's green, now I'm giving a reason for why Zim and Dib never come CLOSE to defeating each other. Sure, you could just say 'IT'S JUST A CARTTON, YOU SILLY LITTLE FANGIRL!' But what's the fun in that?
One more thing, *crowd groans, and looks at their watches* I've decided I'm setting a new goal for myself, I'm going to write a fic in each genre, (ie: one drama, one angst, one horror, ect;) I've already written fics in General, Humor, Drama, Parody, and Action/Adventure. (I don't count 'Bad Stuff Place' for horror, cuz.... well, I just don't really like it.) Which leaves Romance, Poetry, Mystery, Horror, Angst, Supernatural, Sci-fi and Fantasy.
Now that you are all lulled into a catatonic state by my ramblings, on wit da fic!
---------
The stars. When you're in space, that's the only time you can really see the stars. Little icy pinpricks that seem to giggle with unsupressed joy, just happy to exist, to glow and dance before you. Whether you're delighted or disturbed by their overwhelming presence is of no concern to them. They simply shine in the sky's black, satin embrace. They never think of those that watch them...
Zim looked away from the window. The humbling veiw from his significantly enlarged Voot Runner was nothing new to him, yet it always left him contemplative. The stars. They never think of those that watch them, that watch them obsessivly night after night, searching for something. But he did. He couldn't help but do so. Because he had once known a person who had searched the stars for answers, and found them. Dib, oh that damn Dib.
He felt his thoughts fall into the well-worn rut that they eventually traveled night after night. Memories clouded his mind, obscuring the clear, individual thoughts. He saw his past on Earth as an ambigous rush of images and sounds. His first day of skool, how he had sat, sweating, for an endless moment in which he was certain his cover was blown. He had just gathered enough strength to activate the self-destruct mechinisim the Tallest had insisted he have implanted in his wrist, when he heard those words from behind him. "Oh, not again, you're crazy."
Yes, he would be hearing those words quite a lot in his encounters with the Dib-human. And he thought he'd go on hearing them forever... But that was to change, and once the change had begun, it accelerated. Dib had gone from a little kid who needed his father's permisssion to attend a single Swolen Eyeball meeting, to a full-fleged agent, compleate with a code name in a matter of days. Within a month, he had begun to see Them, hiding in the shadows, Their features blurred into one dark mass, until all that was visible were Their eyes, those sneaky, decitful, ever-watching eyes. He made excuses for Their precence, not wanting to believe he was in any real danger. But not even he could deny it when they came to his house.
Now came the hardest part, the most painful memories. He remembered... He had taken his time in responding to the security breach, having been desensitized by repeated false-alarms, induced by Gir's carelessness. Gir...
Despite the robot's general, well, stupidity, Zim really did like the little guy. But those few, precious seconds wasted had been a near-fatal mistake. He had barely enough time to get Gir, an act which cost him an additional few minutes, since Gir seemed to think it was all some kind of game.
He turned, and looked at the little robot, staring facinated out the same window he was at a moment ago. At seemingly random moments he would burst out in hysterical laughter, then lapse back into silence. Gir had certainly remained unchanged by the whole ordeal, with the exception of a severed arm, which was easily repaired. And, without a nervous system to alert Gir to the pain he should be feeling, niether of them had even noticed the missing limb until the chaos had died down, and they were in orbit above the Earth's one, misrable, dirty moon. Which was probably for the best, as Gir had then begun to start crying about how he missed his arm, and how he knew his arm must be lonely without it's brother, and couldn't they go back and get it? Zim hadn't bothered trying to explain why they couldn't. It would have been an exercise in futility, and Gir would forget his arm's woes once he found another sutible distraction. Besides, at the moment, Zim could only think of the woes of one person, horrible, painful woes, woes he knew he would soon... woe upon that Dib
Dib. He hadn't even seen him the on day it had actually happened, but he knew he was behind it. It was for the best. He was able to retreat from those filthy human Eyeballs, but had Dib been there, and visible... He had never been able to intentionaly show weakness in front of Dib, even when it would have been smarter of him to do so. His memories changed their course, temporarily, to his first encounter with rain, that vile liquid falling from the sky, corrupting the heavens. He should have stayed under the protective awning outside of the skool until it had passed. Though he hadn't felt it's full effects yet, he had stuck out his hand to catch a single drop, and had pulled it back steaming. And yet, when he felt Dib's eyes on him, saw that smug, cocky smirk on his smarmy little face... It had made him want to swim in that acidic fluid, damn the pain, he was an Invader! He would show him. And he had stepped out in that storm, defying all instincts of self-preservation. And after that all he remembered was pain...
He turned his thoughts back to their previous path, may as well finish the memory, get it over with fast. He saw clearly in his mind, the faces of the Eyeballs, hidden, as always, under Their hats and trenchcoats. But he could see in Their watchfull eyes what They were thinking... /he's headed for the attic... he's trapped, we've got him trapped.../ Oh, how, for one breif moment his rage and fear had parted to let through pure, untainted amusment, when he saw the shock in Their swollen eyes. For They had reached the attic just in time to see the Voot Runner lift off, with him inside. Even then, They did not give up the chase, shooting at him with some kind of simplistic human weapon, propelling flimsy nets at him. And when he had gone out of range, They switched to lazer pistols, aiming for his rockets, hoping to make him crash, to leave him unconcious, defensless. They aimed well, hitting him with several good shots, and for a breif, terrifying moment, he had actually feared he would crash. That he would sleep and awake to the sight of a glinting scalpel... and Dib's sneer...
He had dipped low over a hill, barely missing it. Dozens of explosives were being deployed from far off. One of the walls was ripped wide open by the force of one explosion, and jagged shards of metal were sticking out at wild angles, adding to the surrealisim of the moment. It was probably then that Gir's arm was severed, although Zim couldn't be sure.
Another thing he was unsure of was when the self-destruct for his base had been activated. All he knew was that after he had found the safety of a far-off cave, and repaired the damaged Voot runner, he had attempted to start the sequence, only to discover there was no need. Had the computer sensed the nature of the situation immediately upon his departure? If so, would that mean the humans inside had gone up with it, following him through the sky on a firey path of their own? He knew that some perverse part of him should feel satisfaction at that, but he really could not feel more contempt for Them than he felt for all humans. No, there was only one person whose hellish end he would truely relish... and he would relish it soon, very soon.
-------
The stars. Late, absurdly late at night, that's the only time you can really see the stars. Little icy pinpricks that seem to giggle with unsupressed joy, just happy to exist, to glow and dance before you. Whether you're delighted or disturbed by their overwhelming presence is of no concern to them. They simply shine in the sky's black, satin embrace. They never let on what secrets they hold...
Dib lowered his gaze from the telescope lens. He used to find this veiw inspiring, but now it only left him contemplative. The stars. They never let on what secrets they hold, what horrible, terrifying secrets they hold. But he knew, because he had once known one of those guilty secrets. Zim...
He let his thoughts replay the scenes he always felt them fall into night after night. That first night, which had found him, as had many, many nights, up on the roof of his house, monitoring for transmissions. Then, suddenly, so suddenly it had took him a minute to realize it, a frequency came through. After hours of frantic work, trying desperatly to decode the signal before it faded, to decifer the strange language he heard over the airwaves, he had finally captured a small snatch of words, enough to know one thing. They were coming.
He had raced down from the roof, making a less than dignified entrance through the kitchen window. He couldn't believe it, he felt the pressure of his excitment welling up behind his eyeylids. He had shaken his father, babbled frantically to Gaz, trying to MAKE them understand. It was one thing when they didn't believe his theories, but THIS! As always, they were underwhelmed.
This image was replaced by another, as a face more familar than his own filled his mind. Zim. He remembered, everything he had ever exchanged with the alien, every insult, every threat, every petty victory, seemed to all lead up to that day, his final victory. That day... The images had been etched forever on his mind, an everlasting woodcut depicting that eventful day. They hadn't let him near the house, saying it was a job for professionals. Oh, what he would have given to be there, to see Zim's face as he knew defeat. Zim had struggled too, of that there was no doubt. He hadn't seen, but he had heard of how Zim had blown up his own house, obviously with the hopes of taking someone with him. Agents Darkbootie and Creepyname had barely escaped. His evidence had been destroyed, Zim was dead. He couldn't help but feel some sadness.
Yes, he felt very sad, and some still, small part of him cried that it wasn't just loss of evidence he wept for. But he let the matter drop.
It mightn't have mattered even if Zim was captured. Despite his fantasies of the renown that he knew must result from not being crazy, after the event, the Eyeballs had barely said a thing about it. All he knew was they had cornered Zim in the attic, or something, and shortly thereafter, the house had exploded. And, soon, they had started to ingnore him more and more, until he was no longer a member, except in the offical sense, and later even that was denied him. It became all too obvious that once they had started to believe him, they were only using him to get to Zim, and now, they no longer needed him.
Since then, his life had become extrodinaly ordinary. Skool was easy, socialization a waste of time, and although he was still facinated with the paranormal, he didn't hold the same level of obsession for it. That had left him pleny of time to think about Zim. Zim... how he hated him. Even memory of him conjured up feeling of rage, and yet... there was something else too. Respect, perhaps? No, that wasn't quite it... it was something he couldn't put his finger on. He sighed, folded up his telescope and started home.
Upon reaching his house, he spotted a folded piece of paper with his name written on it. He stared at it. The handwriting was familar, the letters squashed and slightly crooked, as if the writer was accustomed to using a different alphabet. He picked it up and unfolded it.
You made a mistake when you thought I'd died,
Didn't you know Irkens had nine lives?
A single bead of persperation that had been at breaking point toppled over his brow. 'Irkens'... that was an entirely unfamilar word to him. It suddenly occured to him that, with all he knew about Zim, he had never found out the name of his home planet. Could it be...? No! No, Zim was dead, he'd seen the place where his house had been, nothing remained, not even rubble or a smoking crater, the whole thing had just... dissolved! But what evidence had he that Zim was even in it at the time? How did he know it was even Zim who caused the destruction of his base, pehaps the Eyeballs had apprehended Zim, then destroyed the house and came up with a fake story to prevent his further meddling? But if that was so, how could he have sent this message, had he escaped? Or had he even been caught in the first place? Could it be...? There was more writing on the back, he turned the note over.
Love,
Zim
"Noooooooooo!" screamed Dib, head angled to the cold, apathetic stars. He steadied himself. Now was not the time to panic, now was the time to prepare. If Zim is sending him this note NOW, he must be planning an attack. His mind raced, he was no longer able to reach the Eyeballs, he would have to rely soley on his own resorces, maybe he'd be able to borrow a few of Dad's things... He raced inside, breifly catching a glimpse of his face in a mirror hanging from the wall, and halted in shock of what he saw. Was he... smiling?
Well, he supposed he was. He was getting back into the routine he had gone through countless times before, this was it, this was what he used to live for.
Was he NUTS??? He asked himself. There was a vengence-crazed alien coming to kill him and he was standing around REMINISCING??? What on Earth was he doing?
------
What on Irk was he doing? Zim asked himself. It hadn't been the first time that night he had done so. It would be so much safer to make a new disguse, land the Voot Runner in some distant town, and lay low until the Armada arrived. Or, if he had to have revenge, why not simply disintagrate Dib's house, with him in it? He was an Invader, not a Warrior. He was taught to operate on secrecy. Though, in his time on Earth, he had never been very good at that, and it had nearly been his undoing many times. The memories began to wash over him once more. He remembered...
He could have gotten in and out of Dib's body before he knew what was happining, he could have won! But he had been unable to deny himself the pleasure of gloating, and he had ended up spending two disgusting hours in the Membrane's septic tank, waiting for Gir to retrieve him. ....
And again, it had happened, true, Dib had his suspicions when the hologram of a dog had passed the window a fourth time, but he still had no real knowlege of what he was up against. But Zim had relvealed the entire plan to him, and Dib had escaped his moosey fate....
Time and time again, victory could have been his! And time and time again, he had let it slip through his gloves. Why? He knew it wasn't just pride, there was something more to it...
-----
There was something more to it... Yes, now Dib remembered! He attached a squat black rod to the thechnical-looking gun he was carrying. He had almost forgotten the destabilizer, without that the gun wouldn't have fired at all. He couldn't believe he had almost forgotten it, it had been right next to the rest of the gun, there was no way he had just overlooked it.
A strange, seemingly unrealted thought flashed breifly accross his mind. It was about accident-prones, people who would be clumsy because they felt guilty and subconciusly wanted to hurt themselves. But he didn't feel guilty about anything. Some part of him, in the back of his mind, told him that it wasn't about guilt. "Then what?" he said, out loud, frusterated. "You're talking to yourself again..." said Gaz sullenly from nearby. "I don't talk to myself." He muttered automatically. "There you go again." she said.
Dib started out the door towards where Zim's house used to be.
----
Zim landed near where his house used to be. This was where Dib would assume he would be, and this was where he would go. In a slightly more negative tone, he wondered what motivation Dib had for going here. After all, it was entirely possible he was in a safehouse somewhere, with more of those filthy Eyeballs on their way right now. But he thought of this in an unconcerend, detachted sort of way. He knew Dib would show up, somehow, he just *knew*.
----
Dib walked up the sidewalk, without the slightest bit of reluctance. He didn't pause as he saw the minature spaceship that doubtlessly belonged to Zim. He walked into the now-vacant lot... and saw him.
-----
Zim turned at the sound of approaching feet... and saw him.
----
For the first time in over a year, their eyes met, and they stood for an instant, staring at each other.
----
Zim was the first to speak. "Hello Dib." he said simply. And in those two words was everything. Every word they had ever exchanged. Every blow they had ever recieved, at the hands of the other. Every ounce of rage he had ever felt towareds him. And every second spent thinking about him. "Hello" Dib replied, relaying an equal amount of emotion, yet with such casualness they could have seen each other just yesterday. Then, for a while, neither said anything, they simply stared at each other, taking in every detail of this moment that each knew would be either their finest or their last. Then, slowly, gracefully, and somehow, without malice, Zim unfolded his metalic legs and reared up on them. Dib did not react, he simply continued to stare. Neither he, nor Zim, could quite understand what was happening. Intellectually, they knew they wanted each other dead, but emotionally, neither could bring themselves to attack.
Then they knew. It happened suddenly, unexpectedly, and left them both with a detached, bewildered calmness. It came and went in both of them, and there was a mutal understanding that would stay with them forever. It came differently to each of them. Dib saw himself as a very small child, on the roof of his house each night, listening expectedly, hoping for the one thing, the only thing he knew could feel the gap he had felt inside since his mother had died.
To Zim, he saw himself at the Invaders Acadamy, being prepared for whatever assignments the future might hold for him. He remembered being warned that he would face a great deal of suspicion, and that he must never let his guard down. He remembered thinking how he would face his enimies with gusto and bravery.
They both knew what would happen next. Dib would go home now. Zim would rebuild his house and make a new disguise. Life would continue as it had before. But something would be different now.
Although Zim would still try to destroy Dib, and Dib to expose Zim, they would both know that niether would ever happen. For although they hated each other, in some sick, sad and twisted way, they needed each other too. They compleated each other's lives, gave each other a reason to exist. And they would allow no one, not even themselves, to take that away.
As the figure of Dib retreated, a funny thought flickered through Zim's mind. "Dib?" he called quietly. Dib turned. "See you tomorrow."
