A/N: As I promised, this is the chapter when things really get rolling. There's going to be drama, suspence, and one hell of an ass kicking. I hope you all enjoy it greatly. GREATLY!

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Chapter 10

PREPARING

Dib woke up with a searing pain in his head. His body felt like he was on fire. Suddenly, his mind was submerged in a see of confusion and disorientation. 'Where am I? What's going on?' all passed through his giant head. I tried to rise up from whatever it was he was laying on, but it was to no avail. The surgical table he was laying was also the table he was strapped down to. He began to madly thrash against the straps like a freshly capture, wild beast in a cage. It was no use, whoever had tied him down had done their job very well indeed. I laid his head back down and attempted to calm down. His heart was pounding like an out-of-control diesel train and he was having trouble collecting his thoughts. At first he couldn't remember just how he'd managed to get into the present situation. His mind was still foggy with the haze of sedation.

He raised his head back up and looked around the strange room despairingly. The room itself was several different colors of red, purple, and magenta. At the far end of the room was a large, mirror-like panel that he decided to be a one-way, observation window. The ceiling was a nothing but thick wires and cables and in every possible space resided rather menacing looking pieces of machinery and lab equipment. He was definitely in Zim's base, but how?

Dib closed his eyes and tried to think back to earlier that day. He'd woken up around noon, this much he knew, and there was something on his scanner. It was Bigfoot! He'd gone to investigate the sighting and left Gaz at home alone. Then there was a painful jolt of unrelenting dread in his chest that flooded into his head and suddenly; everything that had up to his incapacitation came rushing back to him.

He began to panic now. So overwrought with the thought of what could happen to Gaz, or himself for that matter, for the second time, Dib attempt to escape his bonds. He would not stop. Too much counted on his escaping. "I MUST save Gaz!" He screamed to himself. "I only hope no ones watching from behind the glass."

Meanwhile, behind the glass, a figure sat in the dark watching the scene unfold. It rose from it's seat and said, "Hahaha! Look at him go! Silly bigheaded boy! Want some more mud, pig?" Gir turned one of the lights on and sat back down in his little pink chair and continued his tea party. Pig, Minimoose, and Gir were all seated at a little table. Minimoose was more of floating than sitting. While they were having a grand old time, Byron and Zim were in an upper level with one of their other guests.

Unlike Dib, Gaz was happily, well as happily as she could be, seated in a cushy chair playing her Game Slave. Zim was eating a burrito and Byron was pacing back and forth across the room excitedly.

"How'd you get her to go along with this?" Zim asked.

"I told her of what wonders awaits in your new world and how I'd give her all the pizza and cola she could ever desire! And, as you can see, she took me up on it," he said.

Gaz looked up from her game and hissed, "It better be good pizza, Byron. Or else."

"Don't worry, Gaz. It'll be the most wonderful and fantastic pizza you've ever had. You might go insane from how DELICIOUS it will be!" Byron clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly, "I can't believe it's working! My glorious plan is so amazing! Everything is going SO well!" Zim said with pure, child-like amazement in his voice. "At last the world shall be mine!"

Byron looked at Zim with an odd gaze and corrected, "Ours, you mean."

"Of course I don't! You're just a servant of the Empire! YOU can't conquer this planet.," he said angrily.

This sent Byron mentally reeling, but he remained calm. He like Zim and, at this moment, had no intention of harming him. He'd already anticipated this and planned ahead. It wasn't a dire concern. "How foolish of me! I'm sorry, Zim, I forgot. The world is yours." 'For now' he thought to himself.

"Are you two always like this?" Gaz asked. "You're almost like a married couple!" She looked over at LU, "Do they always act like this?" LU nodded.

"Silence, Gaz-stink!" Zim yelled out with little pieces of burrito landing on the floor as he spoke. Byron tensed up knowing what would happen next.

"WHAT… did you just say!" Gaz said. Her left eye now mush larger than its partner. Byron sat down and tried not to make any movements that could attract her attention.

"Uh, I didn't, eh, but I… NOT THE FACE!" Zim screamed as Gaz jumped upon him and began waling on his head! His burrito went sailing through the air and landed with a disgusting 'splat' sound at Byron's feet. He reached down, slowly, and picked it up. He continued watching the amazing beating skills of Gaz and enjoyed his burrito.

She kicked, and clawed, and bit, and hit Zim in so many different and creative ways, that Byron almost felt compelled to take notes. It put him to shame to see this American girl who could obviously fight much better than he could. Zim screamed like a stuck pig and tried desperately to cover his face with one hand and crawl away from the raging girl with the other. The latter attempt failed miserably.

"Don't EVER tell me to be silent, Zim! And don't EVER call me 'Gaz-best'! I AM GAZ and that is what you'll call me! Got it?" She said as she got up and straightened her hair back out. Zim was lying in a twisted heap on the floor making funny sounds.

"Yes, Gaz. I understand."

Byron finished his burrito and walked over to where Zim was sprawled out in the floor. "I'm gonna take him down to the infirmary, Gaz," he said and reached down and popped Zim's right eye back into its socket. He knelt down carefully picked Zim up. "I'll see in the observation room in ten minutes.

"Yeah, whatever," she replied automatically as she violently hammer away on her video game.

"Vincent, could you please take us to the infirmary?" He asked.

"YES, BYRON!" With that the floor opened and the two were lowered through the floor leaving Gaz by herself.

"Why'd she do that?" Zim said with a mouth full of broken teeth.

"You should have just called her 'Gaz'. I warned you. I remember, I said, "Don't call her anything other than 'Gaz' and don't tell her to do anything or she'll beat you into another whole dimension of pain and suffering'. But no, you wouldn't listen and now here I am, should be torturing Dib, but instead I'm carrying your busted green ass to the infirmary!"

"Where'd your accent go?" Zim asked very off the topic.

"Huh?" Byron said. He'd not noticed, but Zim was right. He spoke now, as clearly as Zim did. How odd. "I dunno'," he replied.

"I knew something would go wrong if you attached that PAK. I knew it!" Zim whispered.

"Nothing's going wrong! So what if I lost my accent, I don't need it. It's not vital to the success of the mission. So who cares?"

"I liked it," Zim said. This surprised Byron. Was Zim coming on to him? He didn't even want to picture how that would work!

"What's that supposed to mean? Are you in love with me or something?" Byron said defensively.

Zim looked just as shocked and disgusted as Byron had felt at the first thought of this concept. "Ugh, don't be stupid! We're both males of two different species. It would never work out. I'm sorry if you have feelings like that for me, but I do not," he said.

"No, no. I feel the same way. But why'd you say that about my accent?" He asked Zim. For some reason the trip to the infirmary was taking longer than usual.

"I meant just what I said, I liked it. You've been a very loyal and faithful servant and I guess I've, grown fond of you; like comrades in arms tend to do. You understand, right?"

Byron felt so much better that, not only was Zim not having delusions of romance, but also that Zim had accepted him as a "comrade". "Of course, I understand. I feel the same way."

"AAAW! HOW TOUCHING!" Vincent said. "IF I HAD TEAR DUCTS, I'D START CRYING!"

"SILENCE!" Zim screamed. "What have I told you about eavesdropping?" He asked sternly.

"SORRY, SIR."

Finally, the doors opened and Byron walked into the infirmary bay. It was the only part of Zim's base that, as far as Byron knew of, that was a color other than the usual reddish scheme. He set Zim down on the little bed in a corner of the large white room. He walked over to a cabinet and began to unload medical supplies. Since he'd been uploaded with all known Irken knowledge, Byron was practically a proper physician and within five minutes, he'd cleaned all of Zim's wounds, bandaged them, and set the broken bone in his arm.

"How's that feel?" He asked him.

"Much better," Zim said yawning.

"Good. I'll take a look at that gash on your head later. It may need stitches," Byron grimaced.

"I didn't know Gaz wore steel toed boots."

"Neither did I, but fuck it. It's over now. And you know what they say?" Byron said.

"What?"

"The ladies dig scars," the two had a good laugh at this. "I'm gonna' leave you to get some rest. I'll update you on the Dib situation later, okay?"

Zim didn't answer. He'd already slipped of into sleep's warm and painless embrace. Byron walked over to another cabinet and pulled out a blanket and made sure Zim was comfortable.

He then stood up and he remembered what was waiting for him in the other room. His calm and steady demeanor rapidly dissolved into the shaking, wild-eyed beast that had come knocking at Gas's front door earlier that day. "I'm coming, Dib," he whispered to himself and gingerly walked out the door.

He left and walked down the hall a few doors to a room labeled 'Observation' and walked inside. Instead of finding Gaz, he found the remains of Gir's little party. The room was littered with confetti, streamers, balloons, and empty Champaign bottles. Pig was asleep in the corner with a lampshade on his head. "Vincent, where's Gaz?"

"SHE'S COMING, BYRON. IT'LL BE A FEW MINUTES."

"Thank you, Vincent. Could you help me clean this mess up?" Before he could even bend down and pick up a party hat, a hundred different tentacles came out of the ceiling and within three seconds, the room was spotless.

He walked over to the viewing window to inspect his test subject. Instead, all he saw was an empty table with a set of victimless straps. "VINCENT! Where's the prisoner!"

"OH YEAH, I FORGOT ABOUT THAT. HE'S HIDING DOWN IN THE DEVELOPMENT AND TESTING AREA. WOULD YOU LIKE FOR ME TO APPREHEND HIM?" Vincent asked.

"No, Vincent. Just take me down there. But, uh, you could restrict the oxygen levels in there. I'd like to see him run away if he can barely breath!" Byron said with a sickening laugh. "And when I get back, can you make sure that the table is properly equipped to handle, Dib? And that goes for the room too. He's going to be in there for quite some time.

"YES, BYRON. CONSIDER IT DONE." Vincent said and lowered Byron to the appropriate floor.

The room felt funny. It must have been the lack of oxygen. If it weren't for his Pak, Byron would also be lying on the floor gasping feebly for breath, but he wasn't. From the looks of the room, Dib had tried to sabotage the base. A raging fire had been burning inside until the oxygen had been cut.

"Diiiiiiib! Come out and play, Dib!" Byron laughed. He picked up a pipe of the floor. "I know you're in here Dib. Why'd you think I cut the O2? Not for my own pleasure, I assure you of that!" He quietly walked in and out between smoldering machines looking for Dib. He was so intent on his search that he didn't notice the large chunk of ruble in the floor. He tripped and banged his head on a pipe. Dizzied, he stood up, his head bleeding and his ankle throbbing. He now limped down one of the service routes with the large pipe in his hands yelling threats and terrible promises. It was very reminiscent of the scene at the end of The Shining, which Dib watched religiously.

Speaking of Dib, being the very intelligent boy that he is, had anticipated this situation and swiped an oxygen tank from the med lab on his way down. He was hiding in a barrel trying not to make a sound. He could hear Byron approaching. He readied himself for the attack.

"Where could little Dib be? Hmm?" Byron chuckle to himself. He continued his limping search for the test subject. "I know you're in here! Quit hiding and face me like a man!" Byron was, yet again, quivering with anticipation. His terrible grin plain for all to see, had all of been there to see that is. His sweaty hands were having trouble holding on to the pipe and his ankle was throbbing something fierce. "I won't let you ruin this, Dib! I only have so much time before it's too late and you will NOT be the end of ME! I'm the end of you!"

"End this!" He heard behind him, but instead of instinctively turning around, he ducked and heard the whisper of air pass over his head a Dib's air tank swung at his head. He then spun around and planted the pipe squarely onto the soft of Dib's stomach. He gasped and fell to his knees. Before the epic, sword fight-like battle that Dib had expected to occur began, it was done. Byron reached down and pried the mask from his face.

"Sorry, Dib, but it must be done!" He said with a wide-eyed smile. With that he swung the shaking pipe around and, with a hollow thud, connected it with Dib's gargantuan head. The boy fell limp on the floor. Byron casually tossed to pipe to the floor and leaned down to check his pulse. "Oh, good. You're not dead. Come one, Dib my boy, we're got business to attend to!" He grabbed Dib by the foot and began to drag him out of the room while whistling a happily little tune.

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A/N: Oh no! Poor, poor Dib! It's over for him, isn't it? Who knows? He's probably still got some fight in him, along with a concussion. Please review.