A/n: So, I'm sad cos I bought the 3rd IZ DVD and for some reason Disk 5 stops working ½ way thru Tak. I hope it's just my Playsataion being a pain in the butt, cos I've already returned it once, and with the same result. I wish my computer would stop being annoying and play the visual part of movies instead of just the sound like it's been doing, lately so I can see if there's something wrong with the disk. Poop. I think that concludes my little rant.

Oh, and YAY for being able to do italics automatically! When I first uploaded this story, that asn't there. Tiem for a happy dance!

Disclaimer: I pwn IZ, but I don't 0wn it. Too bad.

PART FOUR

The next few years fell into a dismal routine. Dad locked himself away in his lab even more than be had prior to my mother's suicide. He went so far as to sleep there most nights. I stopped caring for the most part after a while, feeling that his abandonment was on a higher level than my mother's. At least he was still alive and breathing. He didn't really have an excuse not to be there for us other than the fact that he was a coward. Gaz, however, ever the Daddy's girl, still got excited whenever he would come home and took our "Annual Family Outings" more seriously than most kids her age. Come to think of it, the only times I saw her put forth any sort of energy towards anything that didn't have wires attached was whenever Dad would come home. But then, who knows. He could have run on batteries, too, for all I know. Would explain a lot of things.

Throughout elementary school, I learned to regret that I had ever given Gaz my Gameslave. She lived for the thing, only putting it down to eat the occasional slice of pizza or to draw one of her numerous portraits of piggies. Or me being torn limb from limb by some horrible creature. I liked the piggy ones better. She withdrew from her classmates and spent most of her time alone with her crayons and electronic best friend. I stuck by her side like a good brother—sitting with her at lunch, walking her home from school, rambling on to her about some paranormal thing or the other—anything I could do to try and keep her in the world of the living. She was growing up to look too much like our mother for comfort. I was convinced that without my presence I would hear her one night crying in the bathroom.

Myself, well, I threw myself into the paranormal. What had once just been a passing interest had now become an obsession. I chased the hairy kid next door, collected strange artifacts like haunted gummies and spell drives, joined the Swollen Eyeballs, and, in the process, became the laughing stock of the school. My peers ostracized me, only acknowledging my existence when it was to make a joke or when they needed a little extra lunch money. I learned to love the insides of lockers. At least if I had already been shoved inside one, it meant that I couldn't be re-shoved into a space I already occupied. Dad stopped listening to my ranting early on, insisting that I show more of an interest in "Real Science" and carry on in his toast-making footsteps. As much attention as I lavished on Gaz, she only looked my way when I was annoying her enough to warrant getting the crap kicked out of me. To my surprise and dismay, by 5th grade I found myself in the bathroom most nights, crying. Guess I was the one who ultimately took after Mom.

But then, oh but then something marvelous happened. I had my proof. After years of being laughed at the ridiculed, I finally had my proof. I was sitting in class minding my own business and my proof just...marched in as if he owned the place. No one believed me of course, but I would show them. I would show them that not only did I have my fame basically handed to me in a short, arrogant, green package, but my proof had a name. Its name was...

"Zim." I heard myself mutter under my breath as I stared at the 3D image coming from Gir's head. We were back in the comference room. Gir was staring at it in wide eyed fascination. I guess he honestly hadn't known that it had been planted into his hard drive. Either that or he was envisioning dancing sausages, again. One could never be too sure.

I nodded to Gretchen and she started the message. The frozen image magically came to life and I felt myself take a sharp breath as I heard the voice that came from the projection.

"Hello, Dib." Zim greeted, sneering, and spitting out my name as if it were the cafeteria food from our old elementary school. His voice sounded the same as it always did—nasally and gravelly at the same time. The image was taken from the waist up, as if he were sitting behind a desk facing the camera. The years had been good to him, in some warped way. The earth's gravity had given him a few inches, though I knew that I still had a good half a foot on him, and his green skin was a smooth as ever, missing the premature wrinkles that had begun to form on mine. My hands balled into fists as he continued, "I take it that it is you who has found this little message, but I am wondering if it is too late. For you, anyhow. Have you already sent your little army after me? Are they all dead? Are you the only one left? All alone to defend planet earth once again?" He laughed bitterly, "Heh. Defend. If you only knew.... At any rate, I am highly disappointed in you, Dib-Stink. Did you think that I wouldn't recognize my own SIR unit? I lived with the blasted thing for long enough, I think I would know that mine is the only one with blue eyes. Guess you overlooked that small detail." I mentally cursed myself, realizing that I had. But then, when I first began sending Gir out on missions, I had only seen one or two other units, so how was I to know? "I will say this, though," I was surprised to see the alien's eyes soften a bit, "you have taken good care of him. I didn't mean to leave him in the base when it self destructed. He...he ran back in. Forgot his moose. I'm glad that you were able to get him up and running again." He seemed to have caught his openness and his eyes grew cold once more, "But you are a fool to send him into my territory. I know where you are, Dib. I know where you're hiding and what you're planning. The firewalls that you installed into his hard drive were good, but not good enough. Just like you, I suppose. I know that you're planning an attack on my base. You will fail, Dib, if you haven't already. You will fail and you will die." He smiled, evilly, "Just like your sister. I wonder, though, if you will scream the way she did. And she did scream, you know. For you, actually. "

I felt my jaw clench. "Turn it off." I managed. I guess I wasn't loud enough, because no one made a move. The message played on.

"She was under the impression, I guess, that if she screamed loud enough, you would come save her."

"Turn it off!" I commanded, a little louder. Still the message played on.

"That you were right behind her, ready to rescue her from sudden doom. Just like she always was for you when you were children." He mock-sighed and shook his head, making a slight clicking noise, "Looks like her faith was misplaced, as usual. And do you know whose name she cursed with her final breath?"

"TURN IT OFF!" I finally shouted, my anger reaching its peak. Gretchen jumped, startled, and fumbled with the controls.

"I'll give you a hint: it wasn't mine."

"ARRG!" I made a guttural scream as I lunged for the controls and ripped the wire out myself. The image flickered once and then disappeared. All eyes were on me, as I stood there, my shoulders heaving under the strain of my breath. Kala placed her hand gently on my shoulder; I shook it off and began to storm from the room.

As I reached the door, I heard a small whimper behind me, and Gir's voice ask, "Master?"

I stopped, swallowed hard, and closed my eyes, not looking back. "Turn that...thing...off, too." I stepped through the door way. I could hear Gir shouting after me, and then, silence.

A/n: Whew. Well. That was fun. Or something. Look for the next chapter within the next few days. And, as always, Rand R, please. Your spleen will thank you.