Disclaimer: I don't own Invader Zim-clk-on't own Invader Zim-clk-on't own Invader Zim-clk SKRRRRTCH! Jhonen Vasquez does.

A great big thank you to all my reviewers! I've revised the latter two chapters just enough to accommodate your terrific suggestions... and your corrections! Never let it be said that I can't take constructive criticism graciously.

The Other Dark Side

Nearing the manager's door, Dib slowed down and cautiously peered through the glass window. He nearly panicked on seeing Zim suddenly standing much taller than usual as he held out that otherworldly weapon. In the next second he realized that Zim was not only standing on a chair, he was training every bit of his attention on something to Dib's right.

Behind a dark red desk piled high with papers and a few scattered sheets, a no longer young man in a dark blue suit was standing with his back to the wall, facing Zim.

Now that regular office hours were over, the manager had pulled off his tie, rumpling his collar in doing so. Undoubtedly he was lingering just long enough to tidy up a few loose ends before heading home. Aside from having raised his arms, he didn't seem overly concerned about facing a deadly laser gun. In fact he was smiling as indulgently as if one of his own kids had dropped in for a visit and invited him to play cops and robbers. For a fleeting second Dib allowed himself to wonder what kind of a welcome this man went home to night after night.

Fortunately Zim's placement, slightly to the right of the door and facing away from it, would allow Dib to ambush him if he moved quickly enough. Dib grabbed the doorknob and threw himself at the door but promptly collapsed against it; it was locked. Dib yanked a boot off and shattered the glass with a swing of its heel, heedlessly pushing his hand right in past the jagged edges of the hole to turn the doorknob and let himself in. "Drop your weapon, Zim!" Dib shouted, holding up his handcuffs.

For a few minutes the manager was prepared to humor a child in some weird supervillain costume who had borrowed one of the newer plastic guns from the toy department, maybe even to extend this tolerance to a second child chasing him and playing police officer, but vandalism was a different matter altogether. The smile fell from the manager's face as if he'd been wearing a mask and someone had just cut the string.

Distracted by the sudden commotion at the door, Zim had to take aim all over again, which bought Dib precious milliseconds. "Be vanquished forever, earth scu-um!" screamed Zim, preparing to fire. Just as he did so, Dib hurled himself through the air to tackle the alien to the floor, knocking the chair over as well. Instead of leaving a black-edged smoking hole through the manager, the laser left a black-edged smoking hole through all the layers of the ceiling... a hole which would completely escape detection until the next time it rained.

In his haste Dib had dropped his handcuffs; good thing he hadn't left the net over the fire hydrant! He now threw it over Zim without difficulty in these closer quarters. In trying to push the net away, Zim offered Dib an easy opportunity to grab the laser gun, which he would present as incontrovertible proof that here was no harmless little boy. Dib settled himself on Zim's chest, which made it none too easy for the alien to breathe.

Everything that had happened from the time Dib grabbed the doorknob took maybe ten seconds, during which the manager just stood there behind his desk with his mouth hanging open. Panting with exertion and the excitement of having captured Zim at last, Dib managed to ask the manager, "Are you okay, mister?"

"I'll show YOU okay, you crazy kid," the manager spluttered, finally reaching for his desk phone. "Security! GM's office! Naw, coupla brats!"

Dib felt a smug smile fasten itself to his face. Take your time, no hurry, he wanted to add. Maybe this security guard would listen to him? If he kept trying long enough he'd have to eventually find someone who did!

That Zim could barely breathe didn't stop him from ranting and raving about how DOOMED the earth was and all the things he would do to it once he threw off this earth stink, etc. Having heard every word of it many, many times before, Dib soon tuned him out; in fact Zim now seemed more ridiculous than threatening. In the long moments as they waited for the security guard, Dib had some time to notice things about the office.

This room sure has a lot of frames in it, was Dib's first observation. On the other side of the door, over a case crammed with bowling trophies, hung framed certificates of thanks for hiring the mentally disadvantaged and for making regular donations to church raffles, charity auctions, and emergency collections.

The glass fragments scattered over the floor led Dib to now notice that the impact of his tackle had knocked a framed picture off the edge of the desk. He picked it up and contritely offered it to its owner. Scowling, the manager snatched his picture out of Dib's hand before setting it back on his desk, bitching heatedly about a crack in the glass.

From where he sat Dib could still see the picture. Here, the manager was considerably more relaxed, a husband and father sitting next to a woman who was sitting between their small children, a boy and a girl. All were smiling, and Dib felt his throat tighten. That's pretty close to how I used to have it, he said to himself

Noticing him studying the picture, the manager moved to block the door. Folding his arms high on his chest, he glowered down at them. Never fear, I wouldn't think of escaping, thought Dib. God knows I'VE certainly got no place better to be...

On the wall next to the desk, a large multiple picture frame hung low enough that the manager could glance at it easily while sitting at his desk. It held the couple's wedding picture as well as several smaller snapshots. In spite of himself, Dib couldn't stop examining each picture.

In one, the angry manager now guarding the door was contentedly fishing with the same boy in the picture on the desk. In another, the boy was smiling just a little anxiously as his father steadied the two wheeled bike he sat on. Still another showed the boy holding his newborn sibling, another, the mother and baby in a rocking chair, yet another, the mother holding out her hands as the baby walked towards her.

A larger picture, taken later, showed the children on swings. The father stood behind the boy and the mother backed the girl. The girl's face was cheerful and open, Dib noticed, and the boy looked happy also. Dib was just about to jerk his glance elsewhere when one more picture caught his eye.

This final picture had been taken in a different living room; it seemed to be summer vacation and the father had been replaced by grandparents. At the very bottom of the frame, you could just see that the boy was reaching after a teddy bear which the girl was holding in one hand, a doll in the other. The boy didn't look too happy but nobody else in the picture seemed to even notice. They were just staring straight ahead into the camera, happily oblivious to what had just happened right in front of them.

Suddenly Dib decided that whatever he'd find on the opposite side of the room would be far more interesting than a total stranger's family album. On top of a metal filing cabinet lay a heart shaped slab of steak wrapped in cellophane, suddenly reminding Dib that today was Valentine's Day. This man had even remembered to pick up a bag of lollipops for his kids. Next to that sat a red teddy bear, which Dib suddenly realized was actually two, and -

At this point the manager sprang away from the office door, pointing to Dib and Zim as a beefy, grim-faced security guard filled the doorway. Everybody in the room together began shouting their version of what happened, but this security guard was used to quelling near riot situations.

"Fun's over, kids!" he boomed. He grabbed Dib's ear, but when he tried to grab Zim's he stopped short. "What the... ?"

Seeing his cue, Dib began screaming, "HE'S AN ALIEN! HE'S GOT NO EARS BECAUSE HE'S AN ALIEN!" at the top of his lungs.

"I said, 'fun's over'!" repeated the security guard in a voice that could crumble concrete.

"Then what's THIS?" Dib yelled, triumphantly holding aloft Zim's deadly laser gun. Let them try explaining THAT away!

But before Dib could believe it was happening, the manager had reached up from behind him, grabbed the laser gun out of his hand and given it back to Zim. "Here, sonny. Just make sure your mommy pays for this before you leave the store."

Zim seemed to briefly consider using the laser gun again, but clearly he considered the dumbfounded look of stupefied frustration on Dib's face victory enough for the moment. He marched out, declaring that he could no longer tell WHO was running this planet, an Almighty Richest or an Almighty Stupidest.

Dib turned to chase him but the security guard still had a grip on his ear. "Who's going to pay for that glass?" said the manager sternly. "Maybe I'd better call your parents, young man,"

"After him! He's getting away! He's dangerous!" Dib shouted, to no avail. The security guard was buying the manager's version.

Finally Dib realized there was only one way out of here. He asked how much the window and a new picture frame would cost, then opened his wallet and counted out just beyond that amount. He'd have to wait still longer to save enough for a state of the art camcorder with which to record incontestable proof of Zim's alien origin. "Okay NOW can I go?"

The manager looked at the guard and shrugged helplessly. "Kids these days. Spoiled, spoiled, spoiled. They're the kings of their houses and they get every last single thing they want."

Dib was too concerned about where Zim was heading even at that moment to pay attention to such absurdity. "Uh, guys? I GOTTA leave... NOW?"

"And that's exactly why we've got problems like this one here today."

Dib was forced to stay for a lecture by the manager, followed immediately after that by another one from the security guard. After they finally ran out of things to say to him, they let him put his boot back on, retrieve his handcuffs, and leave. By the time Dib made it outside the maul, Zim had disappeared. But where had he gone?

"Human. Dib stink. Up here!" Zim shouted down to him from a ramp coming from the parking garage. "I'll never stop waging war on this DOOMED planet!" Zim shouted, just before that green dog flew by and picked him up.

Shaking his fist, Dib replied, "And I'll always be there to stop you, Zim!" as Zim zoomed away on whatever that flying green dog was.

Checking his watch, Dib saw that this whole thing had taken an hour, if that. But he was in no particular hurry to go back... to resume getting beaten up where he'd left off, most likely. He'd kill some time in the maul's bookstores, and when they finally closed, there were always those 24 hour places.

It was late; shadows filled the silent house. At every sound outside, Gaz tensed. The second Dib came through the door she was going to fly straight into him for staying away so long. She played on; without Dib around, she had only the figures on the screen at which to vent her anger.

Around 10:30, tired of waiting, she finally turned off her GameSlave. She would have to go to bed in a silent, dark, and lonely house. That lazy, selfish Dib still hadn't returned. Whenever he did feel like showing up he would pay and pay dearly. It was just a simple matter of punishing him until she received her apology.

For all the convenience it offers, a 24 hour MacMeaties is a depressing place to be late at night. At 11:30, the people who are actually there for the food usually have better places to go immediately afterwards, and the people who remain do so for lack of any other place to go. It is here that the unfortunate flotsam of humanity, the hobos and the hookers, gravitate for cheap sustenance. Any employees stuck with the back shift are only distant relations to the peppy representatives that people the company's advertisements. Fighting their bodies's hunger for sleep drains their energy constantly so that they feel slowly pulled right into the very floor. The forced cheeriness of the decor, so invigorating in the daylight hours, merely emphasizes the emptiness and gloom now lurking outside the blackened windows.

Here it was that Dib sat yawning in a quiet corner booth, one which offered enough room for a family of four. He would have long ago set out for a friend's house... if only he had one. Lingering over a burger, large fries and extra large soda, he went through one newspaper after another, line by line. Dib kept glancing at his watch, waiting for a time when he felt certain that the house would be dark and safe. He was in no hurry to walk into another beating as soon as he did return home.

Home? Home. What a joke that was, home. That was no home, that was a workplace, a workplace even more wretched than this one. In the place Dib called home, the physical and verbal abuse was unrelenting and apparently fully sanctioned, for doing all the chores himself he received exactly the same allowance as someone who did not a single tap of work, all respect and consideration ran along a one way street, and what was worst of all, he couldn't even tell anybody where to stick the job and quit!

By now Dib was down to the classifieds. "For sale: one moose head trophy." "For sale: electric typewriter, no ribbon, excellent condition." "For sale: one snow blower, needs tires, runs fine." By this time, Dib was finding a chuckle in every ad. How can it run... if it needs tires? Funny how when you were this tired even the most ordinary things could strike you funny...

Finally Dib finished the last paper. He carefully stacked them in a pile while sipping the last of his soda. Checking his watch once again before resting his chin on his hand, Dib stared into space, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier. With no additional distractions in front of him, Dib turned his thoughts back to the events of the night. What a weird office... what woman needs two teddy bears... of the same color at that... Suddenly the relevant details of what he had seen in that office clicked into place in Dib's mind and he sat upright wide awake.

Two teddy bears of the same color... so the children wouldn't fight over who got what... a very small thing in itself but nothing was small when your sibling would give you no peace over it and this was a father who not only noticed but who definitely cared... and Dib of all people knew only too well what could only too easily happen had that family lost a parent tonight and seen its delicate balance upset.

Because Dib had insisted on going out, one of the very houses he couldn't even stand to look at as he left would remain happy... and that was why, despite Gaz lying in wait for him, he felt such satisfaction now. Perhaps, Dib reflected, he protected others so vigorously because he was so much in need of it himself; forbidden to defend himself, he felt compelled to defend everybody else.

True, Zim still remained at large, but Dib had tonight certainly saved a life, and "Who saves one life, saves the world entire." He'd heard that in some movie, but right now he didn't remember which one, and by this time he was far too tired to try recalling it anyway.

Yawning, Dib checked his watch once more. It finally seemed late enough to leave... 12:35... although Dib would be sure to walk completely around the house checking for lights before actually unlocking the door. Come to think of it, these days her mood at breakfast had been even worse than usual. However that still didn't mean he was in any special hurry to collect an additional beating on top of the one he'd get in the morning. He'd set his alarm clock to awaken him a half hour earlier the next morning, which would be plenty of time for doing his homework. Quickly dispensed with as it was, the consequences of leaving it undone were still not worth the risk.

Dib returned the pile of newspapers to the counter from which he had borrowed them, then threw the wrappers and whatever cold fries he hadn't eaten into the trash on his way out.

Once outside the restaurant, Dib remembered how pleasant the night could be... as long as he stayed to well-lit areas and kept his distance from strangers. Nighttime moved to a completely different tempo from that of the urgent and perpetually impatient daytime, the altered lighting lent an intriguing film noir atmosphere to even the most familiar and ordinary, and of course, now Dib could see all his beloved stars...

Dib drank in the peace and stillness of the dark and starry night. A long walk under the night sky always did help him sleep better.

The End