"What do you want, Zim?"

"What do I want?" Zim laughed – it was the laugh that Dib was expecting this time and made the human much less jumpy. "What do I want! I want a challenge again Dib-monkey. I want an opponent who knows what they are up against. I want to see fear and rage rather than indifference. There was fear and rage in their eyes today human-stink. Today no one called me crazy; today no one looked down at me."

"You are crazy," almost slipped out of Dib's mouth, but he caught himself before saying it aloud. He had gotten very good at catching words in his mouth since moving; Dib had all but quit talking to himself in his new hometown.

"So you want me to come back and fight." Dib replied dryly; much more a statement than a question. "No, Zim. I told you before – you win. I'm not coming back; I'm not going to be your house. The Earth is not my responsibility and you are just a kid with a skin condition."

There was a hiss on the other end of the phone and then the whole earpiece erupted into a cry of inhumane rage. Dib had to hold the phone away from his head and winced at the noise.

On the TV screen an explosion was heard off-camera and 'Oh my God, it's starting again!' could be heard as the camera panned the dark city to the newest mushroom cloud of smoke. The screen changed again to another camera closer to the blast where all that was visible through the smoke was a charred white picket fence and a torn "I heart Earth" flag flapping casually in the breeze.

Dib dropped the phone and grabbed onto the back of the couch, closing his eyes against the picture on the screen. He felt like vomiting. All that equipment, all those experiments, all that data and PROOF was gone. He had been telling himself for years that it didn't matter, that he was sane, that he had an overactive imagination; but in the back of his mind he had always known that there was proof if anyone cared to look for it. Proof in a tall, thin house with an "I heart Earth" flag and a white picket fence.

And now it was gone.

"Do you understand now?" Zim screamed from the phone on the floor. "Do you understand you filthy human!"

"Yes," Dib said more to himself than the phone and reached down to flip it shut, breaking the connection with the alien. "Turn that off," he spat at Gaz before rushing to the bathroom.


"Hey man, you ok?" Josh walked into the bathroom behind the kneeling Dib. The spiky-haired kid was leaning over the toilet bowl with his forehead resting on one arm and his eyes closed against the sight and stench of his sanity being violently heaved from his stomach and down the toilet.

Down the toilet; just like all that proof of alien existence.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry."

Jenna leaned around Josh's arm in the doorway, her concerned expression not able to mask the accusation worn just below it. "Who was on the phone?"

"How about you don't worry about it," Josh spat at her, "the guy just watched a terrorist attack on his old house. Give him a break."

"It was the kid you were telling us about wasn't it? He's the one who did it." She pressed on anyways, stepping under the arm Josh was using to bar her from the room. When Dib didn't reply she smacked his shoulder, "why don't you call the goddamn police, Dib?"

Wiping his mouth to clear any remaining vomit, Dib turned on his knees to face her. "Because they wouldn't believe me, and even if they did they couldn't stop him."

"What do you mean they couldn't stop him? You tell them who it is and where to find him and they go arrest him. What's your fucking problem Dib? Go call the police!"

Josh grabbed Jenna's shoulders gently and pulled her away from the fight she was starting. After this evening's galleria of scars he had the feeling Dib was not someone you wanted to mess with, despite his lanky build and geeky appearance.

Dib stood and flushed the toilet calmly, his back to both of them.

"You're fucking crazy Dib." Jenna spat at him, pulling against Josh's grip. "All of those people are dying and you could save them with a phone call. You're insane.

Dib whipped around, brown eyes flashing with rage, and pulled her away from Josh, pushing her hard into the wall and holding her there by her shoulders. "I am NOT crazy!" he yelled in her face, the stench of vomit nearly making her feel the need to empty her stomach as well. "They are not my responsibility anymore….I am not crazy," he repeated much calmer and let her go.

"Hey man," Josh started and reached for him, but Dib shrugged him off and pushed his way back through the door and to the couch. As he grabbed the remote and started to flip past all the pictures of his ruined hometown – his ruined proof – Josh led the now-crying Jenna through the house and out to his car. Dib flipped through Mysterious Mysteries, which he hadn't watched since Middle School, through endless commercials and finally stopped on a mindless cartoon. Cartoons were good for escaping your own life.