Okay, I just realized that this story takes a REALLY sharp turn from its
original plot and feel...sorry. But oh well. Here's the next chapter,
anyways...
Zim couldn't handle it any longer. One could only be pushed so far. He couldn't stand Dib's eyes.
He picked up Dib's gun and fired, the beam of energy hitting its intended target and echoing into the night like a scream...
*
Dib awoke to the sound of his gun firing. His reflexes kicking in, he immediately flung himself across the room, hitting the ground and rolling behind the couch. Shallow breathing filled his ears, and it wasn't until a few moments later that he realized it wasn't his. Heart pounding, he peeked around the corner of the couch to investigate. When he saw Zim, panting, wide-eyed and gaping, Dib remembered that he wasn't at his own house.
He remembered what he had done that day, what had happened.
Baby sister...
Long ago, there was a little boy whose life shattered before his eyes. Call him Dib.
Over the years, he went off chasing what was called 'fake' by those around him. He wasn't crazy: he was hurt.
He would never be the same since his mother's death, though he didn't know it. He couldn't remember himself all those years ago. Good thing, too.
He spent his years of what was known as 'life' trying to put the shards back together, always gluing, incessantly gluing, nothing more.
Then a green child came to class one day. Call him Zim.
Dib called him enemy. Alien. Evil.
But now he is 'friend'.
And upon seeing Zim, dying on the floor, choking on his own breath, squeezing out his last moments, Dib let go of everything that had happened earlier. He realized that if he didn't, then Zim would die, and he would have nothing. In the desert of time, his life had already become dust, and he would as well if he didn't save Zim now.
Friend.
Dib crawled to him, turned him over. Zim had fired at his Pak, for if he had fired at his head, he wouldn't have immediately died. He'd have had chance of survival. Dib knew that there wasn't much time; the Pak was what kept Zim alive. He had to find a way to help him.
"Computer!" He shouted, panicking.
"Yes?" The computer responded, obviously annoyed. Dib wondered briefly why it didn't just throw him out for being an intruder. Oh well. He had more important things to do now.
"Can you fix Zim's Pak?"
"No can do." It replied, nonchalantly, yet still with a hint of annoyance.
"Okay... Then can you, maybe, you know, make a new one?" He asked, voice full of hope.
"The Irken Pak is what holds all of an Irken's data, all their knowledge, memories, and even their personality. To give an Irken a new Pak would make them a new being, give them a new personality, and they would never be the same." The booming voice said monotonously, zombie-like, almost as if he were quoting a passage in a book that he had already read many times.
Dib grew worried and bit his already too-short nails. He began to draw blood, a metallic tang in his mouth. He inhaled deeply. "Well... Then can you at least duplicate Zim's Pak? You know, make a new one and download all of his information into it?" He was beginning to grow worried, yet he remained calm. Panicking would get him nowhere.
"Maybe. Wanna try?" The computer asked, an expecting silence following afterward.
Dib cleared his throat. "Uhh, sure."
Cords and cables descended from the ceiling, connected to Zim's Pak with a satisfying 'click' and whirred partway back up, suspending Zim a few feet in the air. He looked confused and frightened, eyes darting back and forth, yet not able to utter a single sound-- or at least, not able to be very loud, as Dib soon heard Zim whimpering, of all things. There were only a few minutes left.
Immediately, the television showed a bar slowly filling up with the words 'Downloading data' written above it, as a Pak materialized and was immediately lifted by more cables, ascending until it was level with Zim's limp form.
Zim was pale and feverish, sweat beading on his brow, frightened and confused. He was shutting down quickly; the bullet had broken one of the main cables in his Pak that brought information to the rest of him, almost as serious as breaking or damaging the spinal cord of a human. He wanted to curl up, and let this all end; but the cables from the ceiling shot waves of electricity into his body in a desperate attempt to keep him alive until the new Pak could be installed.
The 'download' bar crawled forward, so close to completion yet getting slower by the second. Zim was slipping away, further and further. Dib was biting his nails.
Suddenly he wished to go back in time. To appear by his sister before the car hit, to push her out of the way, to run away, to never see his father's hidden face, to never even have to experience another lie.
He was human, and he needed to be loved.
Just like everybody else does.
Zim was nearly gone by the time the new Pak was done downloading his data, the alien's mind already slipping into blissful blackness.
His ruby eyes were half-closed, face expressionless, but calm.
Peaceful.
That is, until the cables removed his Pak and forced in the new one quickly, a single fluid movement. Dib didn't realize this until he heard a sound like lightning cracking and a scream.
He shook himself out of his reveries and turned quickly to Zim. The alien was laying flat on his face, electricity and sparks crackling around him, the brightness assaulting Dib's eyes. He squinted until the after-effects of adding a new Pak to an Irken were over. Zim groaned and turned over, eyes staring blankly.
"Oh, and, by the way kid, an Irken with a new Pak may...have some...emotional problems. And their personality may change," He paused. "Actually I dunno. This has never been done before."
"How helpful..." muttered Dib to himself, striding towards the Irken's unmoving form. The alien looked spaced-out, a stupid grin on his face. Dib decided to chance saying something.
"You okay?" It was the first thing that came to mind, and he really was wondering how Zim felt after that whole ordeal.
This seemed to startle the Irken. He leapt up, shrieking. "Hey! I was trying to sleep! And what are you doing in my house? I must make a call to the Tallest! My-- my Tallest! Oh no! Get out!" He took a deep breath, for he had said that all without pausing to breathe. It was a symptom of having a new Pak; scientists had only speculated on this, however, and briefly, for if an Irken were to die they would just believe that it was weak. Such was Irken life, and Zim would have been honored slightly to show them that a dying Irken can survive a new Pak installation, and he could show them the after-effects, such as sometimes forgetting to breathe.
Another after-effect happened to be memory loss.
Zim couldn't handle it any longer. One could only be pushed so far. He couldn't stand Dib's eyes.
He picked up Dib's gun and fired, the beam of energy hitting its intended target and echoing into the night like a scream...
*
Dib awoke to the sound of his gun firing. His reflexes kicking in, he immediately flung himself across the room, hitting the ground and rolling behind the couch. Shallow breathing filled his ears, and it wasn't until a few moments later that he realized it wasn't his. Heart pounding, he peeked around the corner of the couch to investigate. When he saw Zim, panting, wide-eyed and gaping, Dib remembered that he wasn't at his own house.
He remembered what he had done that day, what had happened.
Baby sister...
Long ago, there was a little boy whose life shattered before his eyes. Call him Dib.
Over the years, he went off chasing what was called 'fake' by those around him. He wasn't crazy: he was hurt.
He would never be the same since his mother's death, though he didn't know it. He couldn't remember himself all those years ago. Good thing, too.
He spent his years of what was known as 'life' trying to put the shards back together, always gluing, incessantly gluing, nothing more.
Then a green child came to class one day. Call him Zim.
Dib called him enemy. Alien. Evil.
But now he is 'friend'.
And upon seeing Zim, dying on the floor, choking on his own breath, squeezing out his last moments, Dib let go of everything that had happened earlier. He realized that if he didn't, then Zim would die, and he would have nothing. In the desert of time, his life had already become dust, and he would as well if he didn't save Zim now.
Friend.
Dib crawled to him, turned him over. Zim had fired at his Pak, for if he had fired at his head, he wouldn't have immediately died. He'd have had chance of survival. Dib knew that there wasn't much time; the Pak was what kept Zim alive. He had to find a way to help him.
"Computer!" He shouted, panicking.
"Yes?" The computer responded, obviously annoyed. Dib wondered briefly why it didn't just throw him out for being an intruder. Oh well. He had more important things to do now.
"Can you fix Zim's Pak?"
"No can do." It replied, nonchalantly, yet still with a hint of annoyance.
"Okay... Then can you, maybe, you know, make a new one?" He asked, voice full of hope.
"The Irken Pak is what holds all of an Irken's data, all their knowledge, memories, and even their personality. To give an Irken a new Pak would make them a new being, give them a new personality, and they would never be the same." The booming voice said monotonously, zombie-like, almost as if he were quoting a passage in a book that he had already read many times.
Dib grew worried and bit his already too-short nails. He began to draw blood, a metallic tang in his mouth. He inhaled deeply. "Well... Then can you at least duplicate Zim's Pak? You know, make a new one and download all of his information into it?" He was beginning to grow worried, yet he remained calm. Panicking would get him nowhere.
"Maybe. Wanna try?" The computer asked, an expecting silence following afterward.
Dib cleared his throat. "Uhh, sure."
Cords and cables descended from the ceiling, connected to Zim's Pak with a satisfying 'click' and whirred partway back up, suspending Zim a few feet in the air. He looked confused and frightened, eyes darting back and forth, yet not able to utter a single sound-- or at least, not able to be very loud, as Dib soon heard Zim whimpering, of all things. There were only a few minutes left.
Immediately, the television showed a bar slowly filling up with the words 'Downloading data' written above it, as a Pak materialized and was immediately lifted by more cables, ascending until it was level with Zim's limp form.
Zim was pale and feverish, sweat beading on his brow, frightened and confused. He was shutting down quickly; the bullet had broken one of the main cables in his Pak that brought information to the rest of him, almost as serious as breaking or damaging the spinal cord of a human. He wanted to curl up, and let this all end; but the cables from the ceiling shot waves of electricity into his body in a desperate attempt to keep him alive until the new Pak could be installed.
The 'download' bar crawled forward, so close to completion yet getting slower by the second. Zim was slipping away, further and further. Dib was biting his nails.
Suddenly he wished to go back in time. To appear by his sister before the car hit, to push her out of the way, to run away, to never see his father's hidden face, to never even have to experience another lie.
He was human, and he needed to be loved.
Just like everybody else does.
Zim was nearly gone by the time the new Pak was done downloading his data, the alien's mind already slipping into blissful blackness.
His ruby eyes were half-closed, face expressionless, but calm.
Peaceful.
That is, until the cables removed his Pak and forced in the new one quickly, a single fluid movement. Dib didn't realize this until he heard a sound like lightning cracking and a scream.
He shook himself out of his reveries and turned quickly to Zim. The alien was laying flat on his face, electricity and sparks crackling around him, the brightness assaulting Dib's eyes. He squinted until the after-effects of adding a new Pak to an Irken were over. Zim groaned and turned over, eyes staring blankly.
"Oh, and, by the way kid, an Irken with a new Pak may...have some...emotional problems. And their personality may change," He paused. "Actually I dunno. This has never been done before."
"How helpful..." muttered Dib to himself, striding towards the Irken's unmoving form. The alien looked spaced-out, a stupid grin on his face. Dib decided to chance saying something.
"You okay?" It was the first thing that came to mind, and he really was wondering how Zim felt after that whole ordeal.
This seemed to startle the Irken. He leapt up, shrieking. "Hey! I was trying to sleep! And what are you doing in my house? I must make a call to the Tallest! My-- my Tallest! Oh no! Get out!" He took a deep breath, for he had said that all without pausing to breathe. It was a symptom of having a new Pak; scientists had only speculated on this, however, and briefly, for if an Irken were to die they would just believe that it was weak. Such was Irken life, and Zim would have been honored slightly to show them that a dying Irken can survive a new Pak installation, and he could show them the after-effects, such as sometimes forgetting to breathe.
Another after-effect happened to be memory loss.