Author's Note: I was originally going to work on DoR this week like I said I would, but I had two tests and an essay this week and didn't get to do anything on it, and this is due by March 3, so I have to hurry and finish the next chapter.
Thanks to all of my readers! Fausse Amie has over 300 hits (I think it had 356 last time I checked the stats), beating out all of my other stories—including my Inuyasha stories, which despite their horribleness (most of them were wrote 7th to 8th grade) somehow managed to get a lot of publicity.
Disclaimer: Do I look like an evil Nickelodeon-drone? Yeah, thought not.
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He never meant for it to happen.
There was once a time long ago when he dreamed of the moment a dying alien would be sprawled at his feet.
A moment of glory, victory, vindication—the payoff for years of failure and disgrace.
The memory and the fantasy were worlds apart.
Remorse…
Indecision…
"Oh, God…. What have I done?"
A thousand other things he had never considered.
Black and white.
Right and wrong.
Good and evil.
Everything was blurred.
A giant glob of gray, swirling and twisting in front of his eyes.
But one fact remains….
The past is set in stone.
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Fausse Amie
Chapitre Quatre: La Libération
Tak moaned in pain, twisting within the folds of the thick quilt. She had refused to be moved inside and Dib objected to leaving her alone, but Dib had managed to find a few blankets stowed away in the garage. The darkness was thick, even with the small light offered from the sole bulb hanging on the ceiling.
She could feel it—gradually the water was corroding away at the sensitive information encoded into her pak. If it touched the main drive—which was quite possible—death was imminent. Slow and agonizing—it could take up to hours—she would loose everything, memories becoming hazy and fading away, delirium setting in, knowledge evaporating, coordination failing.
She turned her wrist over, gazing longingly at the self-destruct button. An instant death. The only drawback was the explosion. This was designed to prevent Irkens from being tortured into revealing information, and because of electronic memory the pak had to be destroyed completely. The result would be a crater the size of Dib's house, and if he died… Well, someone had to make Zim suffer, and she very well couldn't do so if she was no longer alive.
Tak closed her eyes, searching her memory. She had first met Zim at the Academy… or had she? Ten years of her life had vanished, a gaping hole in her memory.
"Damn it…" she hissed, clenching her fists. "GONE!" she cried, pounding her fist onto the ground.
Dib's eyes darted toward her. "What's gone?"
"Everything," she snapped. "Chunks of my life are falling away! I can't even remember the fucking trip from Devastis to Earth! In an hour I won't be able to form a coherent sentence!"
Dib hesitated. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Not unless you're a magician now, as well," she growled, pulling the silken material tight around her shoulders. "I'll just die overwhelmed by an audible, piercing pain, not able to remember my own name, not even able to move on my own…"
"I'm sorry…" he murmured, looking away and letting his eyes close. "This is my fault."
"You wanted to kill me," she reminded him, her voice straining. "You… you…" Tak blinked, shaking. "I can't remember any more."
Had he tried to kill her? Another hole in her memory. Gaps between years… Strides of time which she couldn't even remember existing during… but she had to… of course she was there… She squinted in the dark, trying to make out the face. Who was he? Zim…?
No. Not Zim. Someone else…
"Who… are you…?" a voice asked. Her voice? Was it? It must have been… but it sounded so far away.
Even in the dim garage, she could make out the injured expression at her words. "Dib. Do you remember?" he pleaded.
Dib…
She fumbled through memories—at least, the few that remained. The voice… the face… the name…. She knew him.
"You were smaller then…" the distant voice—her own—garbled. "Idiotic holiday…" Everything was fuzzy, echoing… It felt like ice was coursing through her body. "You…" the distant voice—was it hers or Dib's? It must have been hers… she didn't' remember saying it… it sounded like an indistinct ringing in the background. "You…gave me meat."
Dib felt his whole body go numb, quivering. It was the only year since kindergarten he had ever bothered giving anyone a valentine….
"And… Zim…" she blathered, all reason abandoned, "he trapped me… the snack machine… seventy-five years…"
He could almost feel the pain, the suffering, the delusion… Each second her suffering was multiplying.
"It was… what planet?" she continued. "Zim… destroyed… I…" She wailed, "I can't—hurts…!"
His hands were shaking, watching her slowly slip away. He wanted her death to be quick so that neither would suffer….
Tak was right. Even an enemy's misery was enough to tear apart a human….
A pair of wire clippers lay in front of him.
"I'm dying…" she mumbled, "I'm dying… and I can't remember why…"
The instrument was cold in his hand.
"Turn around," he instructed softly, voice shaking and heart racing.
Her back now to him, she continued to babble nonsensically, her voice growing more distant with each passing word, "Zim… must have been… always doing something…."
There was a long crack across the top of her pak, running midway down the side. Was that there before…? He couldn't remember, but it had to have been. It couldn't have been from when he threw her against the garage—it would take a much greater force to break through.
It was the cause of her death, not me…, he told himself. He couldn't be responsible for death… He was the hero…
He shivered, prying one of the violet plates from the pak and exposing an intricate network of wires in a thousand different colors connecting types of hardware he had never even dreamed could exist. He could feel himself becoming lightheaded.
"Which wire do I cut…?" he murmured, eyes darting frantically. He wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead, deciding to do the only thing he could. He chose a wire, and—hands shaking (Oh, God… What if it blows up? What if it doesn't work? What if it does work?)—he clamped down on the wire. Tak screeched, tremors jolting through her.
Hitting the wrong wire makes it worse… I have to find the right one…
Hit bit his lip, finding what appeared to be the main drive. Everything was in Irken… He had no idea what he was doing…
"Mimi…" Tak whispered, "at the park… under the tree… I told her to stay…"
She must be hallucinating…
Please be right…
He clamped the clipped down on the main wire, watching the lights inside of the pak fade.
"Dying…" she murmured. "But… Mimi… cold… Find her…."
He knew from experience with Zim that normally and Irken could survive around ten minutes without their pak, but in Tak's condition? Seconds, maybe…
It was his fault…
One of them had to die—it was inevitable. Otherwise it would be an endless battle; a tiresome, pointless war until one of them gave up. They were tied to their planets.
Slaves…
Dib wasn't sure if he believed in an afterlife—heaven, hell, reincarnation—but wherever Tak would be after her death, he hoped only for one thing….
"You're free…" he whispered, biting back a sob as her figure went limp.
Another rotten Valentine's Day better off forgotten…
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Author's Note: I finished this way earlier than I thought! It honestly took me forever to get started on this chapter. :'( I killed Tak…and I am very sorry…
I already have the next chapter planned out, and it should be out in a day or two. It should be the longest chapter—mostly on aftermath. It should return to the general style of the first chapter.
Reviews are always appreciated, and constructive criticism is more than welcome.