A/n: Told you guys that the next chapter would be up quickly. This, once again, isn't a Test chapter, but instead, a bit of an exposition (read: PLOT), to let you know what is going on in the Waking World and also within the inherent Nature of the Tests. I warn you, though, I wrote this all in one shot at 330am while drugged up on cold meds so, while it makes perfect sense to me, it may not to anyone else. If it doesn't, I'm sorry, but I assure you that it doesn't make much sense to Dib, either, so you're really not all that left out.

Thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews. They make me very happy and do a little dance when I get bored and check my mail from my phone at work.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Zim. Sorry.

You Only Live Twice

Part Ten: In which Dib learns the Truths that are found within Lies.

Main Entry: de·cep·tion
Pronunciation: di-'sep-sh&n
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English decepcioun, from Middle French deception, from Late Latin deception-, deceptio, from Latin decipere to deceive
1 a : the act of deceiving b : the fact or condition of being deceived
2 : something that deceives : TRICK

It was dark. Dark and cold. Above me the sky was as clear as I had ever seen it, devoid of any cloud that might mar its surface and give me some sense of Space or Time. The air around me was stagnant, unmoving, but still cold, the chill cutting through the leather of my jacket and the cloth of my clothing to pierce and cut my flesh. Surrounding me were trees and shrubs, enclosing me within the clearing where I had found myself, but not a branch moved, not a sound was echoed. It was almost as if I were trapped in a single moment, in that place that occurs in those few milliseconds between Yesterday and Tomorrow. Stuck, lost, trapped within—

"Limbo," a voice stated behind me. I turned, quickly, to face it, somewhere in the back of my head acknowledging that the swish of my trench was the only sound within this everlasting dark, cold, lovely night.

I faced a boy a few years older than I, his eyes shadowed behind his square glasses, his blond hair seeming to glow in the moonlight.

"Once again, you are trapped in Limbo." he continued, clarifying his rather obscure previous statement.

I looked around me, and then back at him, confused, "But I thought that Limbo was—"

"A restaurant? An empty school?" the boy interrupted, "Those are different versions of Limbo, yes, designed to hide the darker and less pleasant Truth."

"This is the Truth?" I asked, still slightly confused.

"Yes. This cold, dark place; this moment within moments, without wind or sound or time; this is the truth, Dib. This is what those you have been associating with—those who have been claiming to guide you—have been hiding from you. This Truth is what they've been keeping from you, masquerading it with life and memories and hope."

"And why are you showing it to me, then?"

He smiled. A slow, lazy smile that I automatically wanted to like, even though something deep within me told me not to. "To gain your trust." he stated.

"Why?" I asked, suspicious, "Who are you? What do you care?"

Now it was his turn to look confused, but it passed, quickly, and he snapped his fingers. "Oh, right, your memories. I forgot to give them to you."

"My—" I started, but was unable to finish my thought as I noticed him making a small gesture with his hand and all of a sudden my head was enveloped in white hot pain. I fell to my knees, not even noticing the fact that I had probably bruised them with the impact, clutching my head as I screamed with turned into choking coughs as I vomited in the space between my knees. Tears ran down my face as I spat up the last bit of whatever I had eaten, my saliva tinged red with blood, and lifted myself again to my feet, wobbling with the effort that it took to stand.

I wiped my mouth and lifted my head, glaring daggers at the boy in front of me. "Stan," I hissed, the name tasting worse than bile on my tongue, "you want me to trust you after what you pulled? After what you tried to do?"

He shrugged, not losing his cool demeanor for an instant, "Just doin' my job, man."

"You tried to make me fail the Test! Hell, you were the Test, setting me up to be jealous of your successes over my failures! You're going to have to do a lot better than showing me this version of 'Truth' if you think that you're going to gain my trust. I don't want anything that you could give." I began to turn away, disgusted by the man's presence.

"Power, Dib," Stan stated from behind me, "Control. You're telling me that you don't want that? That you don't want the ability and strength to stand up for yourself? You destroy your enemies?"

I turned back towards him, stubbornly determined not to be swayed by his words, "You never offered me anything like that. All you did was show me how sub-par and worthless I was." I accused.

"Oh, really?" A voice from within my head, answered. I recognized the voice as Stan's, even though his lips hadn't moved.

"How did you—"

"This isn't the only form you've encountered me in, Dib," the voice continued, "Now which was the one that you liked best?"

As I watched, Stan looked up and towards the right, his lips pursed as if in careful thought. He began to snap his fingers, as if trying to remember something, and with each snap, his body changed and warped into someone new, instantly.

"Who was it?" the voice mused as Stan snapped, his form changing to that of Steve, the man who befriended me in my father's office, of my newlywed uncle who gave me my first drink, of Agent DarkBooty, his features bathed in shadow. A sick understanding began to crawl up my spine and into my brain.

"Oh, yes!" DarkBooty stated, pointing a finger in revelation, "I remember, now!"

Another snap and she stood before me. Stephanie. The Original Fallen Angel, hell bent on being with and empowering the Savior of the Earth. She smiled at me, that slow, seductive smile, her hand tracing a slow path from her hair to her chest and down one hip as she posed, "This was the one, right?" she crooned, that smug smirk playing on her too red lips.

I swallowed the lump that had been rising in my throat, trying to force my fifteen year old brain to focus on the matter at hand, and not where I would like to place my hands on the matter. "You—" my voice cracked, I cleared my throat, "you've been there all the time, tempting me, wanting me to fail, and you now want me to trust you?" I asked, incredulous.

Stephanie laughed, a slow, tinkling laugh, "I want you to understand the nature of power, Dib. I want you to understand that you are the one in control of your life and your actions and everything that goes with it. That you don't have to do anything that you don't want to: you don't have to chase after Zim, you don't have to bend your will around your sister's, and you don't have to save the planet if you don't want to. It's not like anyone is going to care or notice, anyhow. Remember: the last time some guy came around claiming to be a Savior, his people strung him up on a cross to slowly die of starvation and blood loss. What makes you think that Humanity will treat you any different?"

"I—" I was at a loss, unable to make my mouth work, to tell her that she was wrong, that people did care about my efforts to save Humanity and the Earth. That my efforts weren't in vain. That I did matter. But suddenly, my vocabulary, as well as my conviction faltered and I stood there with my mouth open like a moron, taking in everything that she had just said.

"My, my sister," I stammered, "my father, they—"

"Your father is three weeks away from pulling the plug on your sorry ass," she scoffed, flipping her long, black hair, "if that doesn't say 'I love you', than I don't know what does." She laughed, dry and hollow, without humor, "And you sister, well, really, since when did she ever see you as anything but a bore and a nuisance?"

I shook my head, "No, no, you're wrong. I saw them, Gaz…Gaz was mad at our dad for wanting to pull the plug on me! She was going to try and stop it! She—"

"Do you want to see for yourself?" Stephanie asked, her voice forced and frustrated, "Will you believe me, then, if you see it for your own eyes?"

I could sense some sort of trick, but my stubborn and curious nature took over, and I felt my jaw tighten as I said, "Yes."

The girl before me sighed and made a light gesture with her hand, her scars catching the moonlight, and I felt a small displacement—a dizzy feeling that I realized I would never fully become accustomed to—and I found myself in the cold, stagnant, sterile surroundings that could only be attributed to a hospital room.

I had to blink for a few moments to make my eyes adjust to the sudden harshness of the florescent lights after so much darkness. That strange, antiseptic smell assaulted my nose, and it was all I could do to keep from vomiting, again. After a few moments I began to hear the murmurs of voices from behind the curtain where my body lay, and, without even checking to see if Stephanie was behind me (I already knew she was, I could feel her warm presence, coiled like a snake, somewhere in the back of my spine), I phased through the curtain and faced with lie beyond.

Beside my bed stood my father and sister, who was glaring up at him with angry tears in her eyes. My father's face was unreadable as always, hidden behind his goggles and lab coat.

"You're a real asshole, you know that?" my sister demanded, her hands in tight fists at her side. She wiped at her cheeks, angrily, even though they were still dry. Gaz didn't even like the idea of being caught crying.

"Now, Daughter," Dad was saying in his 'comforting' voice. I noticed that he didn't use Gaz's name. I wondered if he could even remember it, "you're being irrational. After the deadline, even if your brother were to awaken, he wouldn't be your brother, anymore, he'd be—something different. You don't want that, do you? You don't want him coming back without his insane ramblings about his para-nonsense, do you?"

"Paranormal," Gaz muttered, a bit too softly for our father to have heard the correction, "And wouldn't that be a good thing for you?" she demanded, her voice louder, "If he were to come back talking about something other than his stupid aliens and ghosts, wouldn't you want that?"

Our father looked away, which I could only tell by the way his head moved, "As much as it would please me if your brother would join me pursuing Real Science(!), after a few weeks, he won't even have the mental capacity to solve basic addition, never the less find a cure for the Common Cold."

"But there's a chance that—"

Dad looked back up, sharply, "That chance is so low that it isn't even worth thinking about." he stated, his voice sharp and angry. He took a deep breath, and placed a hand on my sister's shoulder, "Look at him, Daughter." Gaz obeyed, her face pinched in some unreadable expression, "Your brother isn't in there, anymore. His brain scans—"

"Show some kind of activity! I've seen the readouts!" Gaz interrupted.

Dad shook his head, again, "No, no, you're mistaken. Those readouts show nothing more than the basic brain activity, just enough to keep the body functioning. There is no higher thought process going on. Just the basic electrical signals and dream waves."

Dream waves? It was evident that I was dreaming? Were these Tests nothing more than elaborate hallucinations? A way of keeping my brain occupied while my body fought for life? What could that possibly mean?

My father was continuing, his voice overly cheerful despite the morbidity of his words, "Your brother isn't there, anymore. The person that you knew and loved is gone, and we have to move on. We have to be strong, now, and place all this unpleasantness behind us. He would want that, don't you think?"

It was silent for a moment, and then Gaz sighed, "I…I guess you're right, but—"

"Of course I'm right." Dad stated. He began to move, steering my sister towards the door, "Now, I still have thirty minutes until I have to go back to the office. If we go now, we can get a slice of pizza at that Blighty's place you like so much."

"It's 'Bloaty's', Dad." Gaz corrected, allowing herself to be moved.

Dad laughed, "Of course it is. I knew that you were my smart child!"

They moved towards and then started past me, but at the last moment, curious as to what might occur, I stepped into Gaz's path, forcing her to walk through me. It was a curious sensation, passing through her bones and muscle and sinew and thought, and I was almost too disoriented to notice her stop, her back stiff and tight, her hand to her forehead as she whispered, "Dib?" and turned back to face me, her eyes somehow meeting mine in a look of pure confusion, fear, and…happiness?

Before anything else could happen, however, I found myself back in the stiff, stagnant darkness of Limbo, and I whirled around to face Stephanie, my hands in tight fists that I could barely control.

"What the hell did you do that for?" I demanded, "I had reached her! She noticed me!"

"It was just a coincidence," Stephanie stated, shaking her head, "Had you stayed there any longer you would have seen her only shake her head and walk away. She didn't feel you, Dib, she was just solidifying her decision to let you go. I wanted to spare you that heartbreak."

"You're lying."

"Am I? Was I lying about your father's decision to kill you? About his lack of emotion over it? Of your sister's agreement?"

I kept my mouth shut, stubbornly refusing to neither confirm of deny her words.

"I only want to show you the truth, Dib. I only want you to know the difference between the Truth and the Lies and how to control those who will try and do you harm. I only have your best interests at heart." she stated, her voice full of sincerity that I had to force myself to doubt.

"Do you, now?" I asked, keeping my voice level and deadpan. I refused to let her see how much she was effecting me, both her words and her body.

"Of course." she answered.

"And what about J and Erin?" I asked, trying, and failing to remember my past Guardians' faces, their warm, comforting words.

"Hasn't it occurred to you that they fight a bit too hard for your success? I mean, think about it," she was saying, starting to pace with the force of her words, her hair flying out behind her like a cape, "J puts a trainee in his place when the Energies change to a Female nature. A trainee who still waits tables for a living because her own Creations haven't enough Creative Energy to come fully to life. Hardly anyone that I would trust with one of my 'favorite' Dreams, as he claims that you are. And why does he place this trainee on your case? So that he can continue to keep an eye on you."

"He just wanted to make sure that I was safe." I stated, coming to my friend's defense.

"Oh, Dib, you're so trusting." Stephanie laughed, "You really think that he couldn't continue to watch your progress from the Home Office? He's watched you your whole life, kid, I really doubt that anything could stop him while you were on the brink of death if he really tried. No, he wanted to make sure that he still had a say in the matter with those next Tests. Had he passed it on to a Fully Trained Guardian, he could only watch, but not interfere. However, with one of his trainees running around, doing his dirty work, he could still keep his hand on you, just a degree or two separated."

"Again, he just wanted to—"

"Make sure that you were doing ok? So you're really comforted with the fact that he didn't trust you to make the right decisions, or at least, whatever decisions he deems as right? Cos that's what it looks like to me, kid." That smug little smile returned.

I felt sick to my stomach, a cold knot forming there. Could she be telling the truth? Could J really not trust me to look out for myself, to make the right choices? And what choices were the right ones, anyhow? I had been told the nature of the Tests, but how was I to know that J had been telling me the truth? Maybe I had been making the wrong decisions all along, to better play along with J and Erin's plans. They had said before that there was something planned for me; something big and important. Was that necessarily something good? Was I really free to make my own choices in this matter, or was I just playing into some sort of sick game?

"Why should I believe you?" I asked, my eyes searching hers for some semblance of reality and Truth.

She shrugged, "You shouldn't. You shouldn't believe anyone but yourself, cos in the end, that's the only person that matters and be there for you when the shit hits the fan. I just wanted you to be a bit more aware of the situation, considering I'm going to be your Guide through the next Test and all."

I was taken aback. "You?" I asked, incredulous, "But J and Erin said that I was going to be alone for the final test!"

She smiled a sad, slow smile, "They mislead you, then, Dib, and not for the first time, I imagine. The energy of the final Test is androgynous, which I, as you have to have been able to tell, obviously am. I can be either male or female at whim, depending on the situation and the desires of the Subject. I am the only one able to Guide you through Sloth, and you must trust me if you are going to be able to get through it."

I shook my head, still not fully understanding, "You want me to get through the Test? But I thought—"

"Dib, I want you to be happy. That's all I want, and all I will be pushing for in the next Test. It's up to you to decide what that happiness is: staying within the next Test for all of eternity, or returning to that world of pain and despair where no one loves or appreciates you, and even those who are supposed to be closest to you are wishing you dead. It will be your choice, Dib. It's just up to me to show you the right one."

I tried, still, to focus solely on her words and not her meaning, not wanting to be swayed, not wanting to acknowledge what she was telling me, the Truths that she spoke, which could really only be masked Lies.

"I thought that the last Test was Sloth. Why would I want to stay there?" I asked.

Again, that smile, as she shook her head, raising her hand, gracefully, "You'll see." She stated, and gestured, lightly.

The stars blinked out one by one and I found myself, again, floating through the darkness.

A/n: Stopping there. Threw a bit of a wrench in the gears, but Someone had to do it. Confused? Good, cos I am, too, kind of. I would touch a bit on what is going through my mind, here, but have decided, instead, to save it for the ending Author's Note, where I'm planning on going through this all step by step, and chapter by chapter, cos I don't see it getting much clearer, for some reason, and it seems that there are a few of you out there who are slightly confused by it all, still. But that's ok, cos Dib is, too, and I was told a long time ago that if the reader is That Much ahead of the protagonist than the Writer is giving too much away. So I guess I'm doing my job.

Psst: I know that I'm stretching the definition of "androgynous" a bit, (or a lot) but chalk it up to creative liberties, alright?

At any rate, this story has now reached an Amazing 315 pages (Times New Roman, 12pt, not including Author's Notes). Making it, still, as I'm sure I've mentioned, before, the single longest thing I've ever written. It's beaten FPL by about 200 pages, and I still have two more chapters left, I think. That's freaking amazing. I thank you all so much for reading this much, cos, wow, that's a lot to read.

As always, please R and R. Make my stuffed up head explode with happiness rather than implode with snot. (Wow, I just grossed myself out. Awesome.)

j