Author's Note: I was going to work on Day of Reckoning, but I was just too anxious to get on with this. I love Fausse Amie to death… After I finish this chapter, though, I'll probably get right back to DoR. I think I might do a fan fiction soundtrack for this when it's finished. When I do it, I'll have it posted on my livejournal.
I intended for this to be shorter, and about half of what I wrote was spur-of-the-moment add-ins. I ended up changing a lot of this chapter, and at this point I'm kind of leaning toward having five chapters rather than four. I originally named this chapter "La Libération", but because of all the added stuff I had to push about half of the chapter to chapter four, so I had to rename it and redo the beginning. I changed the title about five times for this.
The lovely Ailea has mentioned the possibility of doing fanart for FA, as well. If you haven't read her story, Bitter, I'd like to take a moment to tell you to go read it. It gives a different side of Mr. Bitters, and it has the best developed OC I've seen in the Zim fandom in a long time. Her story seriously rocks.
Disclaimer: Oh, if only I owned Invader Zim, what havoc I would create!
-----
It should have been quick, painless.
Neither of them should have suffered.
In the time in between the moment he imagined it and the moment he attempted to carry it out, he had played it through his mind many a time.
It wasn't supposed to happen like that.
It went wrong.
He wasn't supposed to have any lingering doubts.
He wasn't supposed to feel bad about it.
She was the enemy.
And yet, he had second thoughts.
He's said the words so many times that they seem to have lost their meaning, no more than the obsessed weeping of a deranged man.
"It was an accident…."
The intentions, no matter how pure, are irrelevant.
It was his fault, and he could do nothing change it.
---
Fausse Amie
Chapitre Trois: Le Choix
The walk there had been silent and cold—in more ways than one. The snow cascaded around them, already beginning to accumulate. Tak hissed in pain with each flake that touched her flesh, burning as they melted and steam rising from her skin. She tapped her foot impatiently as Dib unlocked the garage.
The door clicked mechanically, sliding open. In the center sat Tak's Spittle Runner, almost exactly as it was when she had last seen it. She scowled, tracing her gloved claws over the metal sides.
As Tak inspected her ship for any damage or unsatisfactory alterations, Dib slipped off to the back of the garage unnoticed. Quietly he rummaged through a drawer, glancing over his shoulder.
She was preoccupied.
His fingers, now trembling, grasped the rubber hilt of a knife. Shallow, but sharp, and unable to conduct electricity. It was the perfect weapon for the job at hand.
He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. His breath came heavy. He closed his eyes, shaking the feelings away. He crept behind her, steps as soft as the snow falling just beyond the threshold of the garage. He forced down the lump forming in his throat as he gingerly reached forward toward her pak.
He bit his lip, curling his fingers inward. It should have been so easy! He shouldn't be having moral difficulties!
He sighed audibly, fingers slowly outstretching once more.
Tak spun around, pinning him to the wall with her fierce glare and sinking her claws into his wrist. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she spat.
Realizing his mistake, Dib recoiled, fighting against her grasp.
How could someone so small be so fucking strong?
He hissed in pain, feeling her claws pierce his skin. He ripped his arm away, her claws tearing two parallel stripes across his wrist. Spatters of blood stained Tak's gloves.
This was it—no backward glances. Tak wouldn't let him just walk away when moments ago he stood behind her holding a weapon dangerously close to her pak.
Tak looked down at the blood on her fingers, smiling sadistically. "You want to kill me?"
Dib shuddered, stepping backward. He felt the soft crunch of snow beneath his boots, telling him that he was now outside.
"You want me dead?" Tak stepped forward, amethyst eyes gleaming wickedly as her holographic projection faded to reveal her true form—green skin, antennae, no ears, no pupils. Irken. "Then do it," she dared. "Try to kill me."
He tried to force his breathing to steady, vision locked on to her.
Irken.
His mind no longer connected her with the girl who had betrayed him. As she stood in front of him, all he saw was Tak, the Invader—Tak, who looked so much like Zim. Tak, who was in no way human.
"I'm waiting," she seethed, stepping forward.
All coherent thoughts abandoned, he hurled himself forward. Tak, now supported on four mechanical legs, caught his wrist, grip tight. Both trembled, putting all of their force into their arms; the knife, now shaking from the force of both, was mere inches to the left of Tak's head. She growled, twisting his arm and thrusting him down into the snow.
Dib winced as he felt the icy powder come in contact with his skin, soaking through the legs of his jeans as it began to melt.
Snow is just frozen water….
Water causes Irkens pain….
He kicked one leg out, the other curling beneath him. His leg collided with Tak's, sending her plummeting face first into the snow. He could hear the water sizzling against her skin as she shrieked in pain. She pushed herself to her knees, throwing herself at him and pitching them both into the snow.
The wind bit at his ears, the snow pouring from the sky faster and heavier.
She wouldn't survive much longer like this. Enough snow would kill her.
Each one forced all their weight into the knife, the blade no more than a centimeter from Dib's nose. Tak, weakened though she was, still somehow was close to overpowering him. If she got the knife from him, it would be over—his one chance, his single sliver of hope… gone.
As one of Tak's mechanical legs swooped under, dangerously close to his head, he rolled aside, kicking her against the side of the garage. She screeched as a mound of snow slid from the roof, covering her. She snarled, emerging from the snow, steam rising from her skin.
"When you are dying, Dib, remember this: I had every intention of doing this peacefully," she seethed, starting toward him.
He stood up, clumps of snow falling from his clothes and hair, breathing rushed and shaking—both from the cold and an odd mix of fear and adrenaline. "But you knew, despite your intentions, that it wasn't going to happen."
Her eyes narrowed. "No one can tell the future," she said quietly. "We make assumptions, predictions…. I chose to be optimistic, but apparently I chose wrong." Her voice rose as she called out to him, "Do you still plan to kill me?"
"Only if you still plan to destroy the Earth," he said firmly, the knife shaking in his hand; his knuckles were white from his firm grasp on the weapon.
Tak started to say something, but hissed in pain as she fell to her knees into the snow. Instinctively Dib rushed forward, sliding to his knees at her side, heart racing. He could hear the soft electronic crackling coming from her pak.
"D-damn it…" she stammered, skinny arms shaking as she tried to support her weight. "This—whatever you call the falling frozen liquid—"
"Snow." He gasped, "It must have damaged your pak…."
The harsh, chilly wind howled as the onslaught of snow rushed around them, issuing a shudder out of Dib.
"Can you walk?" he asked coolly, grabbing her arm and glancing toward the garage.
"No more than ten seconds ago you were trying to kill me, and now you're worried about my health?" she rasped, shrugging her arm away. "What the fuck are you doing?" she wheezed, an echo of her earlier words.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, groaning. "I don't know…" he muttered. "Just… please, let me help you." He dropped the knife in the snow and grabbed her by the arm, this time without resistance. She was cold, he noted as he scooped her into his arms. As he looked over her tiny form, he couldn't help but wonder if Irkens could get hypothermia.
What does it matter if she gets sick? he asked himself. Why does it matter what happens to her?
He set the petite alien down. She snarled, forcing herself upright against the wall and cursing in her native tongue as she watched the blizzard outside, the white blanket spilling into the garage.
Dib closed the door to prevent it from further seeping in, collapsing to the ground and putting his head in his hands. The knife still lay outside, likely lost in the snow.
What was he doing? He could have used the snow to his advantage! She was weakened, unable to fight back. He wanted her dead, so why did he care all of the sudden? He shouldn't be helping his enemy!
He watched her shape, outlined in the relative dark, shaking and sputtering in the corner. Tak shuddered in the cold night air, bringing her knees to her chin. She was freezing, and he could tell she was slowly fading. He bit his lip, pushing himself to his feet and walking over to her.
I'm going to hate myself for this later, he thought, shrugging off his coat and tossing it to the small alien. He could already feel the difference, a sudden coldness washing over him. "Just take it." Tak didn't protest, wrapping herself in his leather coat. It was a seemingly small luxury to afford a dying Irken, but watching him quaking in the cold, teeth chattering and his own breath visible told her otherwise.
She studied him, wondering why he would bother with such a thing when she was going to die anyway.
"It's because…you're human…," she muttered, answering her own unspoken question. He looked back at her, shocked. Her voice was strained, but her words were clear enough to understand. "The most peculiar quality of your people is your ability… ARGH!" She winced in pain, shifting positions. "Your ability to feel empathy, even for those whom you hate. It's something…I'll never quite understand."
"It's not as complicated as you make it seem," he murmured. "I just saw someone who was cold."
-----
Author's Note: As one of my reviewers pointed out, this is really one of the most philosophical things I've written. There's a lot of deeper meaning to everything. It's more idea-centric than plot-centric. This is one of those things that, if you wanted to, you could probably pick apart and find tons and tons of symbols, motifs, etc. in, some of which I haven't even really realized adding. I'm actually really proud of this, believe it or not.
We're over half-way done here! Wow! And I actually wrote in semi-fluff! Originally it was supposed to be really dark and sadistic. But I sort of decided to add in some snow just for scenery and it changed the whole chapter. Just goes to show what snow can do for a story.
Also, this story has the second highest hits count of all my stories, and yet it has the second lowest review count of any of my multi-chapter stories. Come on people, please? I like to know that all those hits aren't just monkeys on computers clicking the link over and over again. So please review. :)
