Hmmm........................ ................. another chapter! I just felt like there should be one here. This is a bit longer than the others.
Go read it now.
She opened the door before he could even knock. He looked up to her in surprise, like a dog caught in the flower garden. He stood straight, taking her in. Gaz ran over herself mentally: hair in disarray, tear-streaked face, fuzzy black blanket surrounding her from the shoulders down. Not like she had anyone to impress. If she could help it, no male would ever look at her like THAT again, lest their heads be immediately absent of eyeballs. And their most precious appendages slowly severed by a 16-wheel semi.
Gaz waited while he quickly looked her over. When his eyes finally met hers, she saw his pain. The sorrow he held within himself, all for her. A thought suddenly entered her mind: that perhaps he cared more about this than she did.
"Gaz," he whispered, moving forward to comfort her. She suddenly felt everything rush back: fear, betrayal, torture, pain. And above all was the feeling that she was gone. The box Gaz kept herself in had been ripped open, and her soul burned out from within. There was nothing left of her.
Surrendering to the agony, she fell into her friend's arms, sobbing for everything she had ever lost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zim stood solidly in the doorway, knowing Gaz needed his support now more than ever. For her sake, he kept back the part of him that wanted to fall to the floor, to scream at injustice and shake in anger. Instead he held her fragile body tight as she shook. His head sank onto hers, pressing her cheek onto his shoulder, as though he could suck her pain out through it. *If only,* he thought bitterly.
When her sobs seemed to recede a little, he cautiously moved them from the doorway to the couch, steadying her weak frame against his smaller one with both arms. He sank first, allowing Gaz to lay back on him, legs curling onto the rest of the couch as she continued crying. After a few more minutes, he took a deep breath.
"Do you want to talk?"
Gaz inhaled with a shudder, tears still falling. "N-no," came her sullen reply. "Will. . . will you just stay here with me? I don't want to be alone."
She hadn't even needed to ask. Zim would have stayed, regardless of the possible threat to his health. In response, he twisted so that he was lying next to her on the couch, holding her from behind. With all of his feelings conflicting in his little Irken brain, the one thing that kept him where he was at was her need for a friend. She had been there for him before, and maybe later. . . He sighed softly from behind her.
"I'll be here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dib trudged clumsily down the stairs, rubbing his eyes before putting on his round glasses. He shuffled through the living room, noting that Gaz had fallen asleep on the couch again. A second pair of arms wrapped around her torso. He continued into the kitchen.
Throwing some frozen bread into the toaster, his groggy mind began to register things around him. The sun angled into the kitchen perfectly, setting the time at about 9 am. The blanket usually draped over the couch was missing. . . he now recalled Gaz wrapped up in that and a couple extra appendages. The carpet by the stairs was marked red from the spaghetti he'd dropped-
Dib's mind flew back to Gaz on the couch. His eyes flashed open at he thought of those extra arms. But. . . she wouldn't. . . would she?
As much as he didn't want to, Dib knew the only thing to do was to look again. Maybe he just hadn't seen it clearly.
He moved cautiously back to the couch. He stood behind it hoping that Gaz wouldn't beat him too severely if he woke her. Another step forward. . .
*CHK!* The toast popped up, scaring Dib out of his sneaky state and into defense state. He shouted and jumped. Gaz flew upright with a scream, falling onto the floor, her head nearly missing the coffee table. Zim snapped to a stand on the couch, letting out a battle cry as he prepared to chop down his adversary bare handed.
Dib stared. And stared. ZIM. Zim and Gaz were. . . No! He couldn't allow it. Not here, not now, not ever.
"Get out before I shish kabob you, alien."
Zim glared at Dib from his elevated position. "There is much to be explained, Dib-worm. Your puny brain does not comprehend this situation. I-"
Dib didn't care what he had to say. He rushed toward his enemy, intent on shoving Zim off balance. "Get out, Zim! Now! I don't care what you have to say, I'll slice you open before you can even breathe!"
Zim hopped nimbly off the couch, moving to open the front door. "I'll call you later, Gaz-"
Dib lost it. "You will not EVER come near my sister! If I ever see anything like THAT again, your corpse will hang from my bedroom window! Get out, out, out!"
The green-skinned space being was gone before Dib could say another word. He let out his anger in a triumphant breath, turning to see. . .
. . . Gaz glaring at him with the fire of a thousand suns.
You likey? You tell me. I have a few ideas of where to take this, but I'm not sure which path I'll take. Give me input or ideas, whatever. Tell me if you hate this, too. I won't hold it against you.
Too much.
Go read it now.
She opened the door before he could even knock. He looked up to her in surprise, like a dog caught in the flower garden. He stood straight, taking her in. Gaz ran over herself mentally: hair in disarray, tear-streaked face, fuzzy black blanket surrounding her from the shoulders down. Not like she had anyone to impress. If she could help it, no male would ever look at her like THAT again, lest their heads be immediately absent of eyeballs. And their most precious appendages slowly severed by a 16-wheel semi.
Gaz waited while he quickly looked her over. When his eyes finally met hers, she saw his pain. The sorrow he held within himself, all for her. A thought suddenly entered her mind: that perhaps he cared more about this than she did.
"Gaz," he whispered, moving forward to comfort her. She suddenly felt everything rush back: fear, betrayal, torture, pain. And above all was the feeling that she was gone. The box Gaz kept herself in had been ripped open, and her soul burned out from within. There was nothing left of her.
Surrendering to the agony, she fell into her friend's arms, sobbing for everything she had ever lost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zim stood solidly in the doorway, knowing Gaz needed his support now more than ever. For her sake, he kept back the part of him that wanted to fall to the floor, to scream at injustice and shake in anger. Instead he held her fragile body tight as she shook. His head sank onto hers, pressing her cheek onto his shoulder, as though he could suck her pain out through it. *If only,* he thought bitterly.
When her sobs seemed to recede a little, he cautiously moved them from the doorway to the couch, steadying her weak frame against his smaller one with both arms. He sank first, allowing Gaz to lay back on him, legs curling onto the rest of the couch as she continued crying. After a few more minutes, he took a deep breath.
"Do you want to talk?"
Gaz inhaled with a shudder, tears still falling. "N-no," came her sullen reply. "Will. . . will you just stay here with me? I don't want to be alone."
She hadn't even needed to ask. Zim would have stayed, regardless of the possible threat to his health. In response, he twisted so that he was lying next to her on the couch, holding her from behind. With all of his feelings conflicting in his little Irken brain, the one thing that kept him where he was at was her need for a friend. She had been there for him before, and maybe later. . . He sighed softly from behind her.
"I'll be here."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dib trudged clumsily down the stairs, rubbing his eyes before putting on his round glasses. He shuffled through the living room, noting that Gaz had fallen asleep on the couch again. A second pair of arms wrapped around her torso. He continued into the kitchen.
Throwing some frozen bread into the toaster, his groggy mind began to register things around him. The sun angled into the kitchen perfectly, setting the time at about 9 am. The blanket usually draped over the couch was missing. . . he now recalled Gaz wrapped up in that and a couple extra appendages. The carpet by the stairs was marked red from the spaghetti he'd dropped-
Dib's mind flew back to Gaz on the couch. His eyes flashed open at he thought of those extra arms. But. . . she wouldn't. . . would she?
As much as he didn't want to, Dib knew the only thing to do was to look again. Maybe he just hadn't seen it clearly.
He moved cautiously back to the couch. He stood behind it hoping that Gaz wouldn't beat him too severely if he woke her. Another step forward. . .
*CHK!* The toast popped up, scaring Dib out of his sneaky state and into defense state. He shouted and jumped. Gaz flew upright with a scream, falling onto the floor, her head nearly missing the coffee table. Zim snapped to a stand on the couch, letting out a battle cry as he prepared to chop down his adversary bare handed.
Dib stared. And stared. ZIM. Zim and Gaz were. . . No! He couldn't allow it. Not here, not now, not ever.
"Get out before I shish kabob you, alien."
Zim glared at Dib from his elevated position. "There is much to be explained, Dib-worm. Your puny brain does not comprehend this situation. I-"
Dib didn't care what he had to say. He rushed toward his enemy, intent on shoving Zim off balance. "Get out, Zim! Now! I don't care what you have to say, I'll slice you open before you can even breathe!"
Zim hopped nimbly off the couch, moving to open the front door. "I'll call you later, Gaz-"
Dib lost it. "You will not EVER come near my sister! If I ever see anything like THAT again, your corpse will hang from my bedroom window! Get out, out, out!"
The green-skinned space being was gone before Dib could say another word. He let out his anger in a triumphant breath, turning to see. . .
. . . Gaz glaring at him with the fire of a thousand suns.
You likey? You tell me. I have a few ideas of where to take this, but I'm not sure which path I'll take. Give me input or ideas, whatever. Tell me if you hate this, too. I won't hold it against you.
Too much.