A/n: Holy. Crap. Guys. You all amaze me. I got SIX reviews all within mere HOURS of posting the last chapter. You are all amazing. Every single one of you. Thank you all sososososo much. You all made me grin like a freaking maniac.

DibMagician: Thank you for mentioning that the ending of the last chapter sounded familiar. After discussions with Dibsthe1, she pointed out that the fic you were talking about was "Dib Snaps" (right?), which I then read, and yeah…wow. That is very much the same thing. Oops. I find it amusing that such things happen when I hadn't read that fic before last night.

So, to Drago, who wrote "Dib Snaps", if you're reading this…sorry, man. I didn't mean to hijack your ending, like I said, I hadn't read your fic at all before writing this. So if you were to get mad about it, please don't, cos it's just a case of Great Minds, or something.

And thank you, again, everyone, for leaving Detailed reviews. Seeing people take the time to say more than "that was good, plz update soon!" makes me smile.

References: Heh…this is funny, cos, when I posted the ending A/n in the last chapter, I had only skimmed through the chapter to find any references and only really noticed/remembered the one that I had to look up. Turns out, as you guys were awesome enough to point out…I had at least two others in there that I kinda forgot about. Oops. So. Here we go…

-Mr. Prickley, the principal. Who is he? The principal from the cartoon Recess.

-"That blood isn't your, is it?" "Not all of it." …Go Dibsthe1! Yea Fight Club!

-Mentioning separating Zim from the Collective… yes, Coco Tapioca, that was all about the Borg. Nice to know someone else is a Star Trek nerd.

In other news, this is a Breather chapter. No Test, here, folks, just some plot development and….EXPOSITION! AHHH! (Explodes)

Enjoy.

Ps—Leftover Sweet and Sour chicken tastes surprisingly good with Pasta Sauce. Imagine that.

DISCLAIMER: I own not this wonderful creation that is IZ. Seňor Vasquez does, as he watches and laughs at us from his Space Station high above the earth. Yup.

You Only Live Twice

PART SIX: In which, Dib has a dream.

Main Entry: dream

Pronunciation: 'drEm
Function: noun
Usage: often attributive
Etymology: Middle English dreem, from Old English drEam noise, joy, and Old Norse draumr dream; akin to Old High German troum dream
1 a series of thoughts, images, or emotions occurring during sleep - compare REM SLEEP
2 an experience of waking life having the characteristics of a dream: as a a visionary creation of the imagination : DAYDREAM b a state of mind marked by abstraction or release from reality : REVERIE c an object seen in a dreamlike state : VISION
3 something notable for its beauty, excellence, or enjoyable quality the new car is a dream to operate
4 a a strongly desired goal or purpose a dream of becoming president b something that fully satisfies a wish : IDEAL a meal that was a gourmet's dream

I awoke to with a now familiar groggy disorientation, my head cushioned in my arms that lay curled on the surface of a school desk. The room I was in was dark, aside from the small cone of light from a lamp that sat on a desk in the front of the room. Two shadowed figures sat on the desk, their heads close together in conversation.

"I'm trusting you to make sure everything goes alright with him." One of the figures, obviously male, stated.

"Relax, will ya? This isn't my first assignment, you know." The female figure answered.

"I know, but…you're still training, Erin. And—"

"And nothing. You're worried because the kid is one of yours, right? You're feeling that instinctual protective urge that Our Creator doesn't seem to have, right? Don't let it cloud your judgment, J. The boss is already a little irked at the way you've been handling this case. You know just as well as I do what is in store for him, and why he has to go through this all."

The male figure turned away, slightly, and pulled one long leg up to his chest so that he could rest his arms on his knee, "I know."

The female figure sighed. Reaching out, she took the man's chin in her hand and turned his head gently back to face her. "Whatever doesn't kill him, J, you know? How is he supposed to reach his potential if you're picking him up every time he trips?"

"The point is, Erin, that if he trips here, all is lost."

"I know that," she removed her hand from his face and ran it over her hair, "believe me, I know that. However, I also know that if he were to trip up here…it wouldn't have mattered in the first place because he was damned from the start." She looked back up at the man, and he turned his head away. She sighed, again. "Look, there's no use being grumpy over it. You know just as well as I do that you wouldn't have had jurisdiction over the next three Tests, anyhow—they have completely different energy. You're lucky that I insisted that they send me instead of someone fully trained. If they hadn't listened to me, you wouldn't be allowed to be here, at all, under the guise of training me. They would have sent in someone else and that would be that. You wouldn't even be here to support him."

He turned back towards her, "I know, and I'm grateful, I really am, but I still just can't help but be worried. "

"Well there's no more time for that, because he's awake and has been listening to every word we've said."

Oops. I took this opportunity to fully raise my head from the desk and give a little wave. The male figure—J—sighed and hopped down from the desk, walking to the wall and flicking on the lights. I flinched and shielded my eyes from the sudden brightness.

When I brought my hand away, J was sitting backwards on the top of the desk in front of me, a tired look on his face.

"You're gonna be the death of me, you know that, kid?" He asked with a weary smile.

I gave him a confused look, "But aren't you already dead?"

The man rolled his eyes and propelled himself from the desk, throwing his hands in the air and mumbling something about the world's stupidity and what the hell are they teaching kids nowadays. Since he had moved, I noticed that Erin was still sitting on the teacher's desk at the front of the room, a bemused smirk on her lips. I felt my eyes grow wide at her new appearance. She had traded her waitress uniform for a white blouse and black pleated skit that came a little above her knees. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun and her eyes smiled behind her glasses as she twirled a pointer in between her fingers.

Seeing my hormone induced dazed expression and the fact that I couldn't seem to raise my gaze from her legs, she smirked and called over to J, who was still pacing and mumbling incoherently, "Hey, it looks like we have a Van Halen fan on our hands."

"The song's 'Hot For Teacher', not 'Hot for Librarian'," he answered, not ceasing his rampage.

An irritated scowl formed on her face, "I don't look like a librarian." she stated, aggravation evident in her voice, then, catching herself, she shook her head and slid from the desk top, making her way over to me. I still couldn't keep my eyes off of her legs as she sat on the desk in front of me the way that J had been. She sighed and leaned forward, taking my chin in her hand and tipping my head up. "Hey, up here, kid."

In all honesty, that didn't help. The first three buttons of her blouse were undone. I was at war with myself, as I sat there, transfixed and round eyed. She sighed and threw her hands up much the way J had done, and, jumping from the desk, began to storm towards the exit of the room.

"That's it, screw it, I'm changing." she stated. J stopped her with her hand on the doorknob by grabbing her arm.

"There's no time for that, let's just get this over with. Now you know for next time not to try and be all cute around pubescent males."

"Well ExCUSE me for tying to get in the spirit of things."

"'Spirit of things'? This is a Divine Test, not some fluffy holiday! We need to be focused!"

"Says the man who just threw a temper tantrum because the kid has a predisposed notion that we're Dead!"

"Hey, you know those cut and dry religious views they teach drive me crazy!"

This was really starting to get ridiculous. I cleared my throat trying to get their attention. When that didn't work, I managed a hesitant, "Excuse me?"

They ignored me, either not hearing or being so wrapped up in their argument that they didn't notice.

"Still, that's no reason to be all pissed off about losing focus, now."

"Excuse me."

"Well maybe, if you weren't dressed like a fetish stripper—"

"Excuse me!"

"FETISH STRIPPER!"

I was growing more and more annoyed. Realizing that being polite just wasn't going to cut it, I climbed on my desk and shouted, "Hey! Old Dudes!"

Both adults stopped bickering immediately at turned their heads to face me, shocked expressions on their faces.

"As much fun as it is to watch you two argue like a married couple, I kinda would like to know what the hell is going on? Where am I, you know, that sort of thing?"

Seeing that I had made my point, I gave a curt little nod and sat down, crossing my hands on my desk in perfect patient attention. J and Erin looked at each other and sighed, shaking their heads before turning and walking back over to the main part of the room. J sat backwards on the desk diagonally in front of me, and Erin hopped back up onto the teacher's desk and began, once again, twirling the pointer.

"Alright, kid," J began, pushing his oval glasses up onto his nose, "shoot. What do you want to know?"

"Umm…how about where I am? Am I still in limbo? Are the tests over? Am I in hell, now? What's going on?"

Erin shot an exasperated look at J, "You mean you didn't give him his memories, yet?"

J took in a deep breath and looked at the ceiling as if praying for divine patience, "I'm sorry, but I've been a little preoccupied. Besides, you're the one in charge, now, right? Why didn't you do it?"

"Because I thought you already had." Erin shot back, loosening her bun and shaking her head so that her hair fell around her shoulders. Running her hand through her brown locks, she let out an exasperated sigh and raised her hand. She paused, slightly, and looked at me, a bothered expression on her face, "I'd brace myself it I were you, kid, this is gonna hurt a bit."

I raised my eyebrow at her, responding hesitantly, "Umm…ok…but I mean, how bad could it be?"

I had barely gotten the sentence out before Erin made a flicking gesture with her hand and my head was enveloped in white hot agony. I fell out of the desk and to the ground, gripping the sides of my head as if keeping it from exploding. There was a scream filling the air and I briefly registered that it was my own. Hands were gripping my shoulders, arms tight around my back as images flashed before my eyes: my father's lawyer, Zim's angry face, Gaz's sweat soaked hair, Zita's smooth, naked body, Gaz's betrayed expression, Zim's sad salute, blood pouring out of Torque's stomach, out of Gaz's forehead, a knife tight in my grip. I felt my stomach start to rebel, and as I fumbled to stand to reach the trash can, it was placed in front of me to dry heave over. My mouth tasted of copper pennies as I spit blood on top of the crumpled papers that lined the bottom of the basket.

As the pain resided to a dull ache, and I sat back off of my heels, my body shaking from the force of my dry heaves, I noticed, still, the feeling of hands and arms around me. Looking up, my eyes caught the identical worried expressions on J and Erin's faces, as they both held on to me, supporting me through the pain. The fact that whatever their annoyance with each other at the moment was completely discarded to take care of me made an unfamiliar warmness curl in the pit of my stomach. Whatever the feeling was, it was enough for me to smile, weakly at them as I coughed one last time.

"I'm ok," I assured them, "It's alright, I'm fine now."

The adults glanced sideways at each other and then back to me, and then, standing, each took one of my arms and helped me back into my seat. J handed me back my glasses, which must have fallen off during my seizure, and Erin smoothed back my hair, fussing over me like a parent. I smiled at them both, again, and then shook them off. I wasn't used to such attention. It kind of bothered me.

"Really, it's fine. I'm alright, now." I reassured them. Both of them glanced, again, to each other and then shrugged, moving back to their respective seats.

Both were silent as I chewed on the side of my index finger, contemplating my new memories.

"So what happens next?" I finally asked, taking the finger from my mouth.

Erin glanced at J, and then asked, "Are you sure you don't want to discuss what's happened so far?"

"No." I answered, a little too harshly, "I want to know what happens next."

J met Erin's questioning eyes and shook his head, almost imperceptivity. He turned back towards me and sighed, running his hand through his too-red hair. "Alright, here's the situation. Like I told you at the end of the last Test, I'm not going to be your Guide, anymore. I can't. The next few tests have a different energy."

"What do you mean, 'different energy'?"

"Everything created has both Male and Female aspects," Erin began from her perch on the teacher's desk, "Yin and Yang, Positive and Negative, etc. The Sins are no different. There are Male aspect Sins, which you've already been tested on, being Greed, Gluttony, and Wrath; and then there are Female aspect sins—Pride, Envy, and Lust. That's why I'm here."

"But that's only six Sins. What about Sloth?"

"Sloth is…hard to explain," J took up the narration, after a pleading look from Erin, "Sloth is the balance point—the place where the Male and the Female meet, the Androgynous energy, you could say."

"So…who's going to Guide me through that one?"

J and Erin exchanged another glace.

"Neither of us," Erin finally answered, "You're going to be on your own for that one. It's the Final Test. It's also the hardest. Most people…most people don't pass."

I was flabbergasted. "You mean that I have to go through the hardest Test alone? You guys are just going to abandon me?"

"It's not like it's our choice, you know?" J stated, emotion making his voice hard, "It's just the rules. We can't help it."

Silence descended, once again. Erin picked nervously at a string on her skirt.

"You had said before that it was easy to tell that I was "one of J's", and then I just overheard you saying it again just a few minutes, ago. What is that all about? What does that mean?"

J shrugged, "It means exactly what it sounds like. You're one of mine. I created you."

That didn't make me any less confused, "You created me? So, does that make you God?"

J shook his head, "No, it makes me a Creator."

"I don't understand."

"When God created the Universe, he created with it two people—Adam and Eve, right? He gave them the basic rundown about the Tree of Wisdom and the whole naming the animals thing and then he went and decided that he deserved a little nap. He's stayed in that mindset ever since, except for the random moment when the people on Earth do something to Really piss him off. Now, in order to populate the planet, Adam and Eve had to become Creators, themselves, and biologically produced Cain and Abel, who produced offspring of their own, or produced other people, etc. So far, so good. Humans had the whole Biological Creation thing down. However, one day, someone realized that they could also create Intellectually. That they could dream and imagine and whole new people-whole new worlds would come to be."

"And I'm your Intellectual Creation?"

"Exactly. You, your sister, Zim, your father, your school—all of it exist because of my dreams, because of my imagination."

The silence returned as I digested this new information. I turned to Erin, who had been silent throughout J's speech.

"And what about you? Where do you fit into all of this? What do you have to do with me?"

She shrugged, "I'm just an Author."

I raised my eyebrow at her, "I thought you were a waitress."

She rolled her eyes, "I have to pay for training somehow."

"Training?"

"It takes lots of practice to become a successful Creator. One can train for years and years and never fully be proficient at it. That's why, from time to time, Creators will lend their Dreams to the Training class. We borrow their Creations—their characters-using them to hone our skills so that we may one day reach their level."

"So you're using my life to learn a trade?" I asked, deadpan, even though I know that my eyes were blazing with indignation, "I'm only a dream to you? Everything that I know, everything that I care about…it's not real?

I rose to my feel, pacing down the aisle, the weight of this new revelation propelling me onwards.

"That isn't what we mean," J's voice said from behind me.

I turned towards him, my trench coat swirling around my feet, "And what do you mean, then? Huh? What are you really trying to get at? If I'm not real—if I'm just some character that you vomited from your head, what does it all matter? Why do I have to go through these stupid Tests? What's the point?"

"You act as though we're different from you." Erin stated, sliding from the desktop, "We're not, you know. We're Dreams as well. We play our parts, we go through the motions of our lives, but in the grand scheme of things, we're nothing more than a passing thought. But that doesn't make us any less Real; any less important. You and your world are as real as you make it. You can take this information and give in to it, letting it beat you down with apathy, causing yourself and everyone you care for to fade away, or you can accept it, and push forward in spite of it." She stood in front of me, her brown eyes determined behind the lenses of her glasses, "The decision is up to you. Give up if you want, prove that you're nothing but a dream and cause us to wake up and forget you. If you're that weak we have no use for you."

That said, she turned on her heel and strode from the room, not bothering to close the door behind her. I glanced to J, who had stayed silent throughout his acolyte's speech. The man looked toward the floor as he unfolded himself from the desk and stood. He started to move toward the door and then stopped, turning towards me.

"You need some time to think and rest. We'll wait outside for your decision. You don't have to keep going if you don't want to. You know the truth, now, you have control over your own destiny. I will say this, though—if you choose to allow yourself to fade, your entire world will become changed. You are destined for great things, Dib. But Erin was right when she said that we can't use someone's who will and soul is weak. This is just as much of a Test as the Sins are. Your decision here will mean everything."

That said, he laid a fatherly hand on my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze and then walked from the room. I could still feel the warmth from his hand as he shut the door behind him, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

-

I don't know how long I stood there, staring at the closed door before I realized that they weren't going to come back in. They were true to their words when they said that they would await my decision—that they wouldn't push me. However, I knew, somewhere in the back of my mind, that time was short, and that I needed to make my decision soon, or I wouldn't be making any more for all of eternity.

Forcing myself to move, I walked the perimeter of the room, taking in my surroundings. This was an exact replica of my old sixth grade classroom, complete with a wormy apple on what would have been Miss Bitters' desk. I ran my fingers along the smooth wood of my classmates' desks as I walked, silently stating in my mind who used to sit where. When I reached the front desk that was closest to the window I paused, running my fingers over letters carved into the wood—deep, angry scratches caused by the sharp end of a compass: "Big heded freek! Go home!"

I sighed and closed my eyes at the memory of the first day I had laid eyes on those words. I had just come back from lunch and they were there, staring at me, taunting me. To this day, I still didn't know who the real culprit had been—only that I had been the one punished for it, and made to pay for the desk. No amount of arguing or logic could convince Miss Bitters nor the principal that there was no way that I would call myself a "big heded freek" (the fact that I could spell a hell of a lot better than that by the fourth grade aside). It was my desk, after all—who else could have done it?

I shook my head to allow the memory to escape and made my way over closer to the door, still silently naming the children who had once sat behind the desks beneath my fingers. Reaching the one closet to the door, I sighed, and folded myself into the miniature chair as much as possible. This had been his seat. My alien. The proof of either my credibility or my inherent insanity, depending on who you talked to. (Though the only person you would get the former opinion from would be myself). I had often wondered what he thought about when he sat in this chair—how his mind worked, how it would feel to be completely displaced from everything that was familiar.

I thought about how, within the Tests, he and I were friends; whether the bond be hesitant or deep, it was still there. It was still more than I had in my own Reality. What detail had been changed in the Realties I had faced that made things different? What happened so that we both had put aside our differences and come to terms with each other? I faintly remembered something about his leaders…a message informing him that his mission was a joke; a fallacy; a farce. I briefly wondered if this were the case in my Universe, as well, and if it were, whether or not I should mention it to him when I got back.

When I got back. It seemed that, at least on a subconscious level I had made my decision, but still I wasn't sure. What did it matter, in the long run, what I did or didn't do if my entire world was nothing more than a Dream?

"All we see or seem is but a Dream within a Dream" A line from a poem that I had been forced to read in the ninth grade floated to the front of my mind. Something in me was warmed by the memory. Mr. Poe had Gotten it. He had been both a Dream and a Creator, and he had fully understood what higher plan was at work within his world. I wondered whether or not he had once been in my place—if, within one of his alcohol induced slumbers, he had undergone the Tests that I was now enduring. Remembering, however, that he had died young, it didn't seem too likely to me that he had passed them all. I felt a slight twinge of emotion rise within me as I allowed myself a moment to contemplate his Fate.

How many before me had undergone this challenge? How many had been "destined for great things" as J said I was, but failed to meet the mark? How many's souls were strong enough to make it through to the other? J had explained before that if the wrong decision were made, I would simply stay in whatever Reality I was in until my body expired before being sent to Hell. I wondered if that really would be that bad. Despite the horrible person that I had been in each of the Tests I had undergone so far, I remembered being pretty happy. There, I had everything—respect, money—even in the last Test, where my life seemed to be in shambles I would have had Power over my enemies. I would have been able to take my life in my own hands; to finally have control.

I sighed and laid my head in my arms on the desk, closing my eyes.

"Zim, what are you still doing here?"

I shot up in the seat, my eyes open, looking wildly around the room. That had been my sister's voice! Talking to Zim! But how had I heard them? For a split second, behind my eyelids, I thought I had seen the shadows of the hospital room that my body was in. Did I somehow just witness a moment of the Waking World?

Determined to pick the signal back up, I laid my head back down exactly as before, this time removing my glasses and setting them beside me before closing my eyes.

"What does it matter to you, Human?" Zim asked, suspicion in his voice, not looking up from the strange contraption that he was fiddling with.

"You look like shit, you should go home and get some sleep." Gaz stated, walking further into the room.

"SLEEP? A member of the Great Irken Elite needs no SLEEP!" He shouted shaking one fist in the air, eyes still glued to the metal box in his hands.

Gaz sighed and sat in the chair next to Zim, peering over his shoulder, "What is that thing, anyhow?"

"It is a device far too advanced for your PRIMITIVE Stink-Beast mind to comprehend. Something that I shall use to bring DOOM upon your race!"

"It's a video game." Gaz stated, her eyes growing wide in interest.

"A video game of DOOM!"

Gaz turned her face, slightly, so that she could look at him, "You're an idiot." She replied, simply, and then slid from her chair, approaching the bed where my body lie, her eyes trained on my face, relaxed in mock-sleep.

Reaching out with one pale hand, she poked my cheek a few times, as if trying to annoy my comatose body into waking. Sighing from the lack of response, she turned and focused on the nightstand beside the bed. Slowly, as if in a daze, she picked up my glasses, unfolding them and turning them over in her hands again and again. Suddenly, her body stiffened and she growled menacingly under her breath, the growl rising into an anger filled scream as she spun and threw my glasses as hard as she could towards the wall, shattering them against the dingy concrete.

Zim, startled by her outburst, jumped to his feet, alien video game forgotten. "You stupid human, what did you do THAT for! The Dib is going to need his ocular correction device when he awakens!"

Gaz turned on him, her amber eyes glowing with rage, "He isn't going to 'awaken', you moron!" She shouted, her voice thick with emotion, "It's been a month and he hasn't even moved a stupid muscle! Those machines are the only things keeping him alive, right now!"

"What is your point? The entirety of the Great Irken Race is kept alive by machines. You should be GREATFUL that the Dib has become so advanced."

Gaz looked like she was about to hit him, and her entire body shook with the effort it took to hold back the urge. How strange it was to see her expressing this sort of emotion for me instead of having it focusing on me.

"You don't seem to understand what I'm getting at, here." she explained through clenched teeth, "That…person," She threw her arm out, pointing to my body on the bed, "is not Dib. Dib isn't in there." She retracted her arm, pulling to close to her side, "The only thing keeping my brother's body alive is those machines. If they were to be turned off, his body would die, and then that would be it. Which is exactly what is going to happen thanks to my fucking FATHER!" She screamed the last word, the force of it seeming to shake the glass in the steel reinforced windows.

"What are you babbling about, Female. Your parental unit wouldn't detach his offspring from the only thing keeping his FILTHY body functional." Zim stated, his mouth frowning. Pausing for a moment, he furrowed his brow in thought, "Uh…right?"

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" Gaz asked, rhetorically, beginning to pace the room like a caged lion, kicking at anything that was in her path, "But no. After three months, the possibility of severe brain damage becomes even higher. Even if he woke up, he would be a vegetable. And God Forbid the 'Great Professor Membrane' have a Vegetable for a son!" With her last sentence, she had picked up a small vase of flowers and hurled it into a corner where it shattered, spraying water on Gir who had been curled up, unnoticed, sleeping on a pillow. The android sat up in his doggy suit and looked around, rubbing at his stuffed eyes.

"I heard a crash, Master!" He stated. Spotting Gaz he seemed to perk up a bit, coming full awake, "Awww, why the purple haired girl look all mad? She needs a huuuug!"

Gaz focused her iron gaze on Gir, who had jumped to his feet to make his way to her, but stopped dead, cringing back at the anger in her eyes, "Um…or maybe I just play with piggy." he amended, pulling off the hood of his costume and busying himself with the pink rubber pig that had shot out of his thermos like head.

Gaz sighed and pressed the heel of her palm hard against her forehead closing her eyes. I could tell that she was trying to get her thoughts in order, to find a way to express herself that wouldn't involve dismemberment.

"I thought that your father was trying to find a way to cure the Dib-worm," Zim stated, caution in his voice. I had never heard him sound actually frightened of someone, but then, my sister had that effect on people.

"My father is a phony, Zim." Gaz replied, a little calmer. She opened her eyes and ran the hand that had been pressed against her forehead through her hair, "He's famous for Super Toast. Wowee. I still can't even tell what the difference is between that and normal toast. He isn't some great scientist, Zim, he's a fraud."

She moved towards the end of my bed, and sat down, heavily, as if restraining her anger had taken all of the energy out of her.

"But…but what about the PEG machine, and the nano-robot?"

Gaz laughed, bitterly, "Oh, he comes up with some great ideas, sure, and some of them work, but for the most part, he just tweaks blueprints and things that he somehow gets his hands on and makes them his own. And the world loves him for it." she shook her head, "I don't get it."

There was a moment of tense silence as Zim digested this new information. He cleared his throat, then.

"So…if the Dib doesn't wake up within the next two of your Earth Months, your father will deactivate him?" He breached.

My sister nodded, her face cradled in her hands, her eyes finding something extremely interesting on the toes of her combat boots..

"What do we do until then?"

Her eyes rose to meet his, amber to violet, and she gave a little shrug, "Pray."

My eyes snapped open, my breath caught in my throat. I had fallen asleep or something, I must have. It was a dream. There was no way that Dad would pull the plug on me, no way. I mean, he's my father, right? He loves me! He would do anything that it took to make sure that I was ok!

Realizing the absurdity of that last train of thought, considering what I knew of my father, I was on my feet in an instant, running out the door as quickly as I could. I needed to find J and Erin and I needed to find them now.

-

I ran through the empty hallways searching frantically for the two Guides. My inherent and instinctual paranoia whispered that they probably had just given up and left me, here, disgusted by my lack of progress. J had said that this was another type of Test—perhaps by taking so long to answer them I had failed and was now doomed to spend the rest of the time until my father euthanized me wandering these empty halls. The thought made me stop in my tracks, shaking my head violently to rid it from my brain. Erin and J had acted like they cared about me. They really wanted me to succeed. They wouldn't just leave me here. They wouldn't just—

"And what makes you so sure, hmm? How much do you really know them? How can you be so sure that you can trust them?" a raspy voice whispered. The voice was familiar, though I couldn't exactly place where from.

"Cos…cos why shouldn't I? They're the only people who have ever treated me with respect. Why shouldn't I believe them?"

"And you haven't thought that there was a catch to their respect?" the voice hissed, amused, "You fool. You haven't thought that maybe they have a higher use for you? That they, perhaps, need you for something?"

"If you're that weak we have no use for you."

"You are destined for great things, Dib. But…we can't use someone's who will and soul is weak."

Fragments of Erin and J's speeches wafted through the front of my mind. Both of them had said that they wouldn't be able to 'use' me if I failed this Test. Use me for what? J had mentioned my destination for 'great things', but did that necessarily mean that those 'great things' would be in my favor? What if they were only using me for their own means? What if…

"No." I stated, shaking my head, my hands gripping my hair, "No, stop putting doubts into my mind. I need to trust these people! I need to—"

"—Dib?" Erin's voice interrupted my little tirade and I jerked my head up to face the sound, hands still buried in my hair. She and J had just turned the corner of the hallway, and were looking at me with shocked and worried expressions on their faces. J was holding a plastic bag with Chinese characters written on the side, and Erin had a two liter bottle of soda cradled in her arms,

"Dib, are you alright?" J asked, his brow furrowed. He held up the bag, "We thought that you might be hungry, so we ordered some Chinese. What's going on?" His questions seemed to break whatever spell I was under, and I ran down the rest of the hall to them, relieved tears threatening behind my eyes. When I reached them, I gripped J hard by the shoulders, almost knocking the bag from his hands.

"I was—I need to—There was this dream—I saw—and then a voice—" I couldn't complete a full thought, my mind was working a mile a minute, my mouth unable to keep up. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Erin look worriedly at J before setting the bottle of soda down and, reaching out to grab my shoulder the same was I was holding on to J's, turned me to face her.

"Calm down, Dib, what happened? Breath for a minute. It's alright."

"No, it's not alright!" I shouted, knocking her hand away. He eyes reflected a twinge of hurt, but I didn't care at the moment. I focused my attention back to J, who was still looking at me with a confused frown on his tanned face, "I was in the classroom. I laid my head down on Zim's desk and must have fallen asleep or something, because I had this dream, except it didn't feel like a dream, it felt real and Gaz and Zim were talking and if I don't get back to my body within the next two months my dad is going to pull the plug! I need to take the next Test, NOW!"

J's face registered shock for a moment and then broke into an angry scowl. He pushed himself away from me, throwing the bag to the ground, causing the contents of the small take out boxes to explode everywhere. The ground was covered in noodles and the small of Lo-mein filled the air.

"Damn it!" He swore, turning and kicking one of the lockers with his steel toed combat boot.

"You're father is going to…pull the plug on you?" Erin whispered, her face growing pale, accentuating the tired shadows beneath her eyes, "But that's horrible…" She trailed off and turned to J, who was still giving the locker what-for, "He…he can't do that, right? I mean, I know that we had limited time, but he wouldn't kill his own son would he?"

"Oh he would and he will." J answered, his anger finally spent. He allowed himself to lean against the locker, his forehead pressed against its cool metal surface, "His sense of Pride is his greatest asset. After three months, Dib would basically be a vegetable. Membrane would never stand for that. He would rather have no son at all than deal with the 'embarrassment' of having one that is handicapped."

"That's what Gaz said." I whispered.

A tense silence filled the hallway, neither of us being able to form words to express what was happening. It was finally broken by J once again kicking at the locker, which had acquired a rather nice sized dent within the last few minutes.

"Fuck!" he swore, "I should have seen this coming, I should have been prepared!"

"It's not your fault," Erin stated, coming up behind him and placing a hand on his shoulder. He shook her off. Her eyes again looked hurt. I wondered, briefly, if that was the look I got whenever Gaz brushed me off when I tried to comfort her. Her eyes grew hard then, "Well it's not!" She repeated, anger rising in her voice, "How were you supposed to know that Membrane was that much of an asshat?"

"I just should have!" her companion exclaimed, turning quickly to face us, "He's my creation! He's my Dream! I shouldn't be able to be caught off guard like this! I should know his every move "

"Like you were expected to know Nny's every move?" Erin countered.

Nny?

"When we give these Dreams life, we give them wills of their own," she continued, "There was no way for you to predict that Nny would falter during the Wrath test, then, and there was no way for you to predict that Membrane would want to go all Kevorkian on Dib, now! Just let it go, alright! You blaming yourself isn't going to make anything better!"

Nny? Wrath test? Had one of J's other Creations been on the same path as me? Was I not the first of his Dreams to go through the tests?

"Who's Nny?" I asked, hesitantly.

Both heads turned towards me, seemingly startled. J sighed and ran a hand though his hair, "Nny was…Nny was my first Dream. He had an accident, much like you did, and was chosen to take the Tests. I was given the assignment to Guide him, but…I was right out of Training. I wasn't able to help him. When I Created him, I had made him too flawed, ad he gave into the temptation of Wrath, damning himself to go through eternity as a Waste Lock, continually dying and being reborn, being vomited from both the Heaven and Hell of that Reality, because nothing would accept him."

Waste Lock. That was familiar. The whispering voice itched at the back of my mind, but I ignored it.

"I failed him." J was continuing, his voice a forlorn whisper. Then he looked up at me, his eyes filled with new resolve, "But I'm not going to fail you. Don't worry, we're going to get you through these tests. You're going to pass, and you're going to do it within the two month deadline."

I was filled with a sense of pride at J's faith in me. Thinking back, I wondered if anyone ever had expressed such views. I came up with nothing.

"What I want to know is," Erin's voice rang out, startling me from my thoughts, "how does Dib even know this? How was he able to see what is going on in the Waking World?"

J turned towards Erin, "You haven't reached that part in your studies, yet, have you?" His question was met by a blank, 'If I had, do you think I would be asking you about it?' stare. "If the Soul's will is strong enough, it can make slight contact with the world outside of the Tests. Dib said that he had been sitting at Zim's desk at the time. He thoughts, then, were ultimately on his friend—"

"He's not my friend." I protested, automatically. Both adults glanced at me out of the corner of their eyes, but said nothing.

"—his thoughts were on Zim," J continued, still giving me a slightly annoyed glare, "therefore, he when he relaxed his mind he was able to make contact, however brief it might have been. Dib described it like a dream, which means that he was simply able to watch what was going on, not interact with it, right?" The last statement was addressed towards me, and I nodded, "Some Souls are able to speak with and, in rare cases, even take over the person they are thinking of, but that is extremely rare. Most of the time the contact comes in the form of a dream or a vision."

"Is there any way that he could be wrong?" Erin asked, chewing on her bottom lip.

J shook his head, "No. If Dib saw his sister and Zim talking about Membrane pulling the plug, than that's what is going to happen. Which means we need to get to move and we need to move, now." He turned back to me, taking my shoulders again in his father like grip, "Like I told you before, Erin is going to be Guiding you, now. I can't have anything to actively do with these next few Tests, but I'll still be here keeping an eye on things, alright?" I nodded, unable to express my emotion or gratitude for this man who had so much faith in me.

He stared into my eyes for a few moments more, as if searching for something, and then nodded, releasing me. Taking a few steps backwards, he nodded to Erin who walked slowly towards me.

She wrapped her arms around me in a hug, holding me tightly, "Don't worry, kid," she whispered in my ear, "you'll get though this. We won't let you get lost." I nodded, feeling her hair against my face. She pulled back, turning her head, slightly and giving me a quick peck on the cheek. Letting me go completely, then, she took a step back and raised her hand, poised to snap. Our eyes locked and I nodded again, gulping to try and swallow the lump that had risen in my throat.

"God speed, kid." She whispered, and then snapped.

As my word fell into a familiar blackness, I heard the sound of laughing at from the corners of my mind.

"God has nothing to do with this." The voice stated.

I opened my mouth and screamed.

-

Wowee. So that was fun. My apologies if this wasn't as exciting as the Test chapters, but after the emotional…stuff…of the last few chapters, a breather was necessary, at least for me. The next chapter will be your regularly scheduled Test, full of wonderful angst (heh, as if this chapter wasn't angstful as all get out) and drama and dancing bears. Ok, so maybe not dancing bears, but you get the idea.

A great big Thank you to Dibsthe1 for beta reading this and letting me know whether or not I had Too Much Exposition and to all my wonderful, wonderful reviewers. At this moment I have 50 reviews! WOW! That's amazing to me. Tallest Red has the honour of being my 50th reviewer. YAY TALLEST RED!

References? Damn this thing was chock full of them. At last count, I'm going for four, but like what happened on the last chapter, I could be wrong. If you see anything else, feel free to point them out. :)

To everyone who's foaming at the mouth, wanting to kill me for putting Dib through so much stuff…I have a reason for it. I hinted a bit at it in this chapter, and it will all be explained further down the line…if not in story than at least in my final A/n. Tho I'm hoping I can figure out how to explain it in-story.

I'm amused at the reaction to the mention that there will be slash elements further down the line…some of you are begging for hot alien on human action and others are on your knees pleading the exact opposite. While I'm not going to change my basic plot ideas in any way, I'm going to repeat this, again—any slash will be only hinted at. There will be nothing graphic, aside from, perhaps, a stolen kiss that will be in entirely realistic given the situation I have in my mind. No hot, hot sexxings, sorry to disappoint. If even that little of a slash element will be too much for anyone, well…I'm sorry. I'm going to put up a warning before that chapter, so if it really would bother anyone that much, you can just skip over it and wait for the next update. I hope, however, that I don't lose anyone's readership over it. That would make me a sad, sad, Jennamonster.

Anyhow, man I love to ramble. Almost as much as I love pixi stix and man…I love me some pixi stix (who the hell came up with that concept anyhow…who was like "Man, you know what we need to give kids? Pure Flavoured Sugar! YEAH!" :)

R and R people. I was able to make good on my week promise this time, lets see if you guys can have my email remind me to do it again. :)

-j