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Happy-Day-After-New-Years everyone! And I feel I should apologize for the polarization of updates! I kind of fell off the fandom wagon, but I refuse to let this story go under, especially since you all really seem to like it. Also, this chapter includes a small time jump, to avoid confusion. Onward!
"Unbelievable!"
Mimi stared out the window silently, taking in the approaching planet and the vast emptiness of space beyond it, only half listening as Tak grumbled.
"My one chance in years to finally get my rightful vengeance and even that is stripped away," she growled, "...what is it with him, anyway? It's like he's untouchable to the universe, even when he fails everything works to his favor! Even now, when he's thrown away a perfectly adequate life of undeserved luxury and pushed us all to the brink of destruction! Oh, I wager he won't get half the punishment that's needed. That selfish little-!"
Tak threw herself back into her seat in exasperation. The cockpit fell into a tense silence- save for the occasional sputtering of the ship's engine. Violet eyes flitted over to her companion, who remained stock-still beside her, and a pang of something struck her. Mimi had never been the talkative type, not counting the fact that she didn't have a mouth to begin with, but...she'd always had her own ways of communicating. Her personality wasn't to be confused as independent, of course. Tak had designed her as to perform as close to a real SIR unit as possible, with only minimal wiggle room as far as free will goes. After her last run-in with Zim, when his shoddy excuse for a servant had hacked into Mimi's mainframe and overridden her...she was never quite the same. Her eyes had always held a sort of superficial vacancy, but now they were simply empty. It left her with a...peculiar feeling deep in her gut. In the past, this feeling was usually accompanied by a burning anger and sparkling panic. This time, it was alone...she noted how steadily it seemed to grow whenever she thought about she'd lost. Who she'd lost these things to...
An ember of anger crackled to life.
"You remember how to use it, right?"
"I'm sure I can figure it out. It's old, even by human standards, so it can't be too difficult..."
Dib hummed, sending small vibrations through the phone and stabbing into his antennae. Zim cringed as a shudder ran over him.
"Well, okay," the boy muttered, "Just don't lose it. Or break it. Or conduct any freaky alien experiments on it."
Zim scoffed, "Yes, Uncle."
"It's 'Mother'."
"Who's Mother?"
"Ugh nevermind," he sighed, "Now, the party doesn't actually start until 7:00, but Gaz and I figured that we'd swing by around 6:00 just to be safe. So if you have any errands to run, make sure they're done before then. Oh-ho man, this is gonna be great- they're gonna flip when they see you!"
"Wait," Zim uttered, "no one knows I'm coming? Hold on now, I-I-I can't just...show up! Oh Irk, why am I just finding out about this now?!"
"Zim."
"...what?"
A beat of silence. Then another. Zim felt a familiar bubbling worry...something was coming, each second leading, feeding into the Irken's growing anxiety. He pictured Dib's disappointed face, imagined his resigned tone as he told him not to bother, thought of his own paranoia carefully setting the last straw onto the camel's back and finally-!
"Don't be a flaker."
The words, playfully whispered through the speaker, came like a long held breath. In an instant, his rational brain seemed to kick back to life and he almost laughed. Zim tried not to let the relief he felt attract his friend's attention.
"It's just..." he faltered, "wouldn't it come off as a little strange for me to just show up after all this time? I wasn't exactly friends with any of these people."
"Weren't you friends with Keef for, like, a week? I'm pretty sure he's going to be there- that weirdo.
"I thought you were trying to convince me to come." Zim said, a smile playing at his mouth.
An upside to it is that he's cooled down over the years. He was off his rocker after you left! Come to think of it...a lot of them have changed. I mean, nothing groundbreaking, but it's easier being around them nowadays."
Zim let out a sound of acknowledgement, not sure whether he should bother taking mental notes. He'd never cared enough to know any of his classmates outside of how he could use them. Even after coming to terms with his exile, he chose to stay at a comfortable distance outside of necessity. Saying they'd grown when he'd never actually known any of them from the start felt...wrong.
"Besides," a pause, "even if things do get weird, Gaz and I will be there."
Zim smirked, "What, fanning the flames and recording the chaos?"
"Mmm...maybe just the recording part. We have a lot of time to make up for, so I'm going to start as soon as possible!"
"Wonderful," the Irken groaned, recalling past instances of surprise candids.
"Anyway, I gotta go- class is starting again and Gaz wants to go clothes shopping after school. Don't forget- 6 o'clock!"
"Sure-" the line clicked "...thing."
Zim hummed absently, staring down at the device and only slightly impressed with how modernized it appeared to be. In his experience, prepaid phones are at least 10 years behind as far as capabilities went. Not that his was new by any means, but at least it didn't flip. Dib had gifted it to him fairly recently...shoved it into his hands out of the blue, though the set of already saved numbers told him it was a long time coming. Social etiquette demanded that he accept the gift, though he failed to see its usefulness for himself. The Irken felt himself wither...Dib had become less like himself these last weeks. Still weird, but not in his usual charming nerd way. These gifts, these days of wanting to spend every minute of their free time together, the looks he didn't think the Irken noticed...was wearing on him. He felt a lowering desire to want to be near the boy anymore and it left a sour burning inside him that he couldn't just erase those feelings. He would never say it out loud, but he valued their strange friendship. It wasn't easy to turn your worst enemy into your best friend, but now he was suffocating in it.
Which brought him back to the situation at hand; the party. The most he knew of it was that it would celebrate the end of the school year and somehow that was enough to make him feel like an intruder. It really wasn't his celebration to be had. He would only know half the people there and three of them didn't even really count. Dib had told him not to flake, but where was the real harm in it? It was just a social gathering! He had more important things to do than stand in a far corner and people-watch.
He stopped short of sending his opt-out to Dib. Looking down at the words he'd typed, they seemed cold. He was a naturally formal speaker, but the robotic sounded ironically alien. The human was already far too good at treating him differently, if he backed out now it would only provide more foundation for it. He wasn't made of glass, he just...couldn't take stress as well as he used to. That was all. He'd show Dib...and Gaz, and Gir and himself! If that meant sitting through this stupid party, then so be it!
*beep-beep-beep*
He jolted, memory suddenly reeling back as recognized the sound. He stuffed his phone int his back pocket, making wide strides toward the kitchen where his oven had just finished preheating. Though, it seemed he wasn't the only one the noise had alerted.
"Gir!" he shouted in a panic.
A series of clanks and crashes followed as Gir, who had secured a place over the stove and- more importantly- over a batch of unbaked cupcakes, hastily dove from the counter. The robot pulled his most sincere face as he watched his master march over to the tray and inspect each cup. After a moment and seemingly satisfied, Zim turned to shoot a scolding look at him.
"I already told you," he began "these are for the party! That means 'Don't Touch'! Honestly, it's like you-!"
He stopped. Manipulation or not, he found himself unable to carry on when a flood of tears gathered in the SIR's eyes. He'd done his best to keep his companion happy these last weeks, remembering full well that his joyful outbursts were nothing compared to his distressed ones. Gir, surprisingly, had proven himself slightly more competent since he'd returned...in a way, the robot had become his "rock", as humans say. He wondered how he'd ever gotten on without his presence on Noxisis. Seeing his rush of emotion struck something familiar within the alien and "good" was the last word he'd use to describe it.
He sighed, turning fully and taking a knee before him, "Look, I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted, but this is very important. Dib and Gaz are counting on me to try and..."
He looked away, uncertain of his own reasoning to explain why it was so crucial. Would cupcakes really put him into his old classmates' good graces? Of course, he was one hell of a baker! If tonight was setting up to be a disaster, he might as well be associated with the best tasting item there! A small smile played on his lips as he brought his gaze back up, satisfied to see Gir's now dry eyes focused on him.
"Say," he said softly, "how would you feel if I gave you a special job, hm?"
The robot brightened, "Really?!"
He nodded, "Really. Do you think you can keep an eye on them while they bake and take them out when they're done?"
"Oh yeah! I'm the best watcher-taker-outer I know!"
Before Zim could blink, a strong gust of air hit his side as Gir zipped passed him, grabbing the tray and chucking it none-too-gently into the oven. It smacked the back panel hard before settling onto the rack, a metallic echo ringing off the walls. Zim waited until the noise faded some, his fuchsia eyes playing over the shredded fabric on his knees. Dib had mentioned Gaz needing to do some clothes shopping earlier...perhaps she was onto something. Standing up, the Irken set the timer on the oven before grabbing one of the dining chairs, pushing it up against the counter for easy access. He turned to exit the kitchen as Gir happily hopped into the seat, staring intently at the clock with a wide smile plastered on his face.
A few minutes later saw the alien in a lighter coat, his phone, and a pocket of folded dollars.
"Okay," he called, preoccupied with his preparation, "I should only be out for an hour or two. Don't worry about frosting them, I can handle that when I get back!"
He didn't bother waiting for a response before making his way to the door, only managing a few steps outside before he was halted by a sharp yank backwards. He yelped in surprise, just barely managing to catch his balance as his body twisted. A tightness enveloped his free hand and he followed it to the outstretched arm of Gir, who had apparently jumped down from the stare to stand behind him. Smile long gone, the robot looked straight through him with an almost critical stare.
"Gir?" Zim spoke, giving his arm a little shake.
The grip tightened.
"Ow..." he muttered, "Gir, let go."
"Where are you going?"
He stopped, "What?"
"Why are you leaving?"
The SIR's tone came out childlike, but his eyes were accusing. His posture was rigid and though he seemingly managed to stave off going into Duty Mode, Zim felt little comfort in his blue hues.
The grip tightened.
Zim didn't bother to stifle a hiss of pain this time, feeling his fingers begin to throb, as he instinctively gripped the android's wrist. He wriggled, gritting his teeth as his bones ground into one another and he flitted his eyes to look helplessly at his servant. Sensing the futility in his effort, he forced out a few breaths before dropping down to sit. He grimaced, raising his hands to hold either side of the robot's face and focus his oculars on him. Zim couldn't quite bring himself to care about the exposure he was risking...he sat, front door open to the world, caught in the death grip of his SIR unit's silent break. He waited for tears, for shrill screaming, he pleaded for a tantrum...but it didn't happen.
Suddenly, the pain running up his arm seemed second priority. Zim let his weight rest on his companion as he gingerly leaned forward, gathering up the smaller body the best he could.
"I'm not going anywhere." he stated, holding him just a little tighter to emphasize his words.
The grip loosened.
*knock knock*
Without waiting for a reply, Dib swung the door open, "Hey, Zim! You rea-whoa!
Before them, the living room sat in disarray. Splatters of green lined the walls and stuck to the furniture and the air was thick with the sickening scent of sugar and a hint of burning.
"Oh, hey!" Zim greeted casually, seemingly unaware to the looks of horror on his friends faces.
He trotted out from the kitchen, firmly holding a cake carrier and watching his step as Gir ran small circles around him.
"Sorry about the mess, heh...I promised Gir that he could have any leftover frosting."
"You sure you didn't give 'em the whole tub?" Gaz mumbled.
"I didn't know you were making food," Dib leaned closer to his sister, "were we supposed to bring food?"
"I just thought I should...y'know...try to make a good second impression?" Zim said sheepishly.
Gaz clapped loudly, "Sounds good to me! Now let's go before the smell kills me."
"What'd you do to your hand...?" Dib inquired as the door closed.
Deep the labs, a long running proximity alert stopped.
Ah geez, Tak finally landed. Again, I apologize for the lack of updates. Happy Holidays and Happy New Year. Thank you all for reading! Until next time!
