This one took… not nearly as long as I thought it would, honestly. I really thought it'd take much longer to write; mostly because I only had a few key notes for it instead of an actual plan for the scenes like a lot of these nowadays. Going back to re-read, I really should edit this so it matches my current writing style haha. This one got a little dark; so fair warning, suicide is mentioned near the end.

Part 35: Souls Part 2

Zim threw the ball up, repeating the motion as his classmates socialized. The auditorium was painful for his hearing with the constant echoes but Zim could mostly drown it out with his wig. He caught the ball, picking at his graduation gown with his free hand. He wasn't completely sure what the point was; but Dib said it was something like a tradition. Zim didn't plan to go—he'd never thought he'd have to—but the school had made getting the gown a requirement.

He looked down to the crowd of students. They were spinning in their gowns as they talked. Zim picked up bits of conversation concerning the 'big day', make up looks, what they'd wear under their gowns for the after parties, colleges they were going to—it was all so painfully dull. He'd rather be at home playing games with Dib. Or spending time in his lab. He heard footsteps racing up the bleachers towards him and looked down to see Abed clumsily climbing the stairs, his gown threatening to trip him at any moment. When Abed reached him he had to take a minute to himself.

Zim wondered idly if Dib's constant running from him is what made his endurance so much higher than his club mates'. It was entirely likely.

"Hey, Zim, want to join us? It's almost time for the rehearsal." Abed says. Zim ticked his claws against the stairs for a moment before he decided to join them. Abed led him to the group, where Dib was already waving him over.

Zim wasn't paying complete attention to what the group was talking about, his mind drifting to other thoughts. He would nod and smirk when appropriate for a response based on what his PAK was processing. His primary thought process was focused on Dib. And if Dib believed in souls. It would make sense he did. And yet, Zim couldn't remember a time where Dib had actually stated if he did or not. He wasn't entirely sure Dib had ever stated a name for his belief. Which made researching it more difficult than Zim had thought it would be.

Why did humans have to make so many different definitions for the same thing?

Zim snapped back to reality fully when Dib was moving him towards the stage.

Zim drummed his fingers on the lab table. Dib was studying one of the… safer contraptions Zim had invented in his spare time. He was turning it over like a child turning over a new puzzle toy; trying to find its secrets. It amused Zim to watch him; but he had a question on his mind.

"Dib?"

"Huh?"

"Do you not believe in souls?" Zim asked. Dib looked up at him quizzically. "You said you believed in science. Does that mean you don't believe in souls? You were asking Zim about them; so, Zim assumes that you on some level do; but you've never clarified so."

"Oh. Well. I mean, I'm not an atheist, or anything. I'm agnostic. Science is my belief." Dib said. He set the invention down on the table, turning it around in circles.

"That… does not explain enough." Zim sighed. Dib looked up at him.

"I mean…. I do believe in them, or I wouldn't have been worried so much when I was asking you. Science can't really explain if they're real or not. But, something has to happen, right? A living thing, when it dies, I mean. Demons exist, and they eat souls, so souls exist. Easy-peasy, right? And yet." Dib shrugged. "There's still people who don't believe in supernatural things."

"Like aliens," Zim said cheekily. Dib smiled at him.

"Like aliens, yes."

"So, does Dib believe in a God? Or more?" Zim asked instead. Dib was fumbling with his fingers over the various buttons on the device. He'd yet to find anything that might turn it 'on'; just yet. But Zim admired his determination.

"I don't believe in God. I believe in The Big Bang." Dib said. "It's the reaction that kickstarted the universe in an instant—like a snap-" he snapped to mimic it, "-and then there it all was."

"That sounds… suspiciously like how some religions depict the start of life." Zim mused. He tacked on a small button with his claw, just enough to point it out to Dib without touching it. "That's the power button."

Dib's face flushed and it pressed it. The device whirred to life before him, the screen on one side running through its diagnostics. Dib watched it, fascinated.

"It does, doesn't he?" he asked. "So many of them are so similar at the root of it all. That's why I decided Science was my way to believe. It's so much simpler…"

"…Science can be incredibly complex," Zim retorted. Dib waved him off.

"You know what I mean."

"Hm."

Zim watched him pour over the machine again. He was trying to figure out what was on the screen through the loose context clues he could see with the layout. Zim figured he could get some semblance of knowledge off of the screen because it was fashioned quite similarly to everything else in the base. And Dib had been improving when it came to reading Irken. Zim made a mental note about that when it came to his personal reports. He picked his chair up, sitting next to Dib.

"So, then, where does Dib think souls go to after death?"

"What? Oh. Well, I always thought that they dispersed into the universe again; or something like that. Rejoining the cosmos, and all that." Dib said, almost half-heartedly. Zim perked an antenna.

"That didn't sound very convincing," he says teasingly. Dib slumped down the table, holding the device up with his arms to see the underside. Zim couldn't fathom why. It was amusing nonetheless.

"I don't have a lot to say on it," Dib says. He finally hit a working button and the device gave a few beeps. It scanned him, sending Dib into an arm flailing panic for a moment, before falling silent again.

"Ok, now figure out the next step," Zim teased. Dib stuck his tongue out at him. Zim copied the motion. Dib started fumbling again for only a few moments before he stopped again. "..Dib?"

"Zim do Irkens… well, do Irkens ever…" Dib fell silent, staring intently at the device.

He was avoiding the subject, Zim concluded.

"Dib? Zim swears if you are about to ask another reproduction question—"

"No!" Dib quickly shouted. Zim heard Gir tumble off of something in the next room at the shout. He ignored it; he could clean it up later. Dib shoved the device away, playing with the edge of his jacket instead. "D-do Irkens… commit suicide?"

Zim blinked at him. He looked away towards the monitor, tapping his chin. "Zim recalls hearing about that an assembly?"

"For that upper classman last year who did, yeah."

"That is killing yourself, yes? Self-termination?" Zim clarified.

"You could call it that. Well, I guess Irkens would call it that. But yes."

"Ah. Not often. The Irken Empire utilizes every Irken; to self-terminate would to insult The Tallest and The Control Brains." Zim explained. Dib nodded with pursed lips. "Irkens don't self-terminate unless under specific circumstances. However, according to Zim's PAK, some have done so because they felt they were out of options. Zim believes some humans feel the same?"

"Pretty much. It's looked down pretty heavily here on Earth, too."

"Besides the PAKs are designed to try and prevent this as much as possible." Zim says. "That's not to say it hadn't been done. In fact I… um…"

Dib looked up at him. Zim was staring at the table. Dib poked his leg with the toe of his shoe and Zim shook his head clear.

"Nevermind. It's not relevant."

"Oh, I believe that it is." Dib says. He scoots his chair close enough to touch Zim's. "I almost did, too. When I was younger."

Zim sunk in his chair, bringing his boots up onto the table. Dib tried to ignore how much it looked like Zim was trying to be in the fetal position without actually being in the fetal position. Like he was trying to hide.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Zim. People, and aliens, go through exceedingly dark times, sometimes. It's just… hard. And, sometimes you can't help it. Sometimes a person's brain is working against them. I don't know why. Something about hormone imbalances, past experiences, current experiences, it's all a whishy-washy mess and… well, I can relate." Dib confessed.

Zim had buried his face into the front of his uniform; but he lifted it to look at Dib once he'd finished. Dib gave him a reassuring smile and Zim unfurled a little more.

"Irkens… aren't forgiving to it. Self-termination, that is." Zim clarified. Dib nodded. "Zim… couldn't do it. And Zim is glad that it hadn't happened."

"I'm glad, too. I wouldn't have ever met you." Dib said, taking the device up in his hands again. Zim was silent. He picked at the sleeve of his uniform, watching Dib instead of thinking about it. He relaxed in his seat; pointing out whenever Dib tried to operate the device improperly.