-Chapter 2-

Gaz sighed in annoyance.

"What's wrong, Gaz? Is it Zim?" Dib spat the name 'Zim' as if it were the worst cuss word on the face of the planet.

"You're paranoid. It's my game. I bought this stupid thing and now it won't work," she answered.

"Do you even know what happened in the cafeteria today?" he asked.

She thought for a moment. Let's see, there had been the first level, where she'd tried to face the practice boss, but had failed three times before she got the hang of it. Then there was the second level, which was nearly unbeatable. She'd beaten it anyway. But the third level, out of all the five levels, was where the game had turned off and wouldn't come back on. "My game died."

Okay, so apparently she didn't know. It was either good or bad for him. Hopefully this would end with him triumphantly exposing his nemesis, but things usually never turned out that way. And why exactly was he feeling the need to protect Gaz? Sure, she was his sister, but Zim hated humans. He'd never actually go through with this...would he? Zim was known to do anything for his 'mission', even if he despised it. But to get this close to the very things he hated most? Hard call. Hard call indeed.

The Irken, meanwhile, was striving on a piece of paper. He hardly knew how to write in English, but was making quite an effort despite his lack of smart-sounding words to use in this instant.

"Are you done yet? Can I see it?" the high-pitched squeal of Gir asked.

"No, Gir. This is a difficult task indeed! But it's nothing Zim cannot handle on his own. AND ZIM IS ME!" he replied.

"Do you like Gaz?" he questioned.

"Of course not! But for the sake of the mission, and for the happiness of the Tallest, I must do what I must do. Besides, this might bring me closer to how Dib knows about every plan I devise. If I can infiltrate his home, I can put an end to this once and for all," Zim returned.

Gir sauntered over to the desk his master sat at and quickly scanned the paper. "You're doing it wrong."

"DO NOT TELL ME WHAT IS WRONG OR RIGHT!" he lashed.

"But I can do it better! Please let me help, Master! Please let me help!" the SIR unit begged.

"Recite to me a poem and I may let you help me," Zim complied.

"What kind of poem? Tragedy? Romance?" he asked.

"Hm...romance," he answered.

"Okey-dokey!" the robot stayed quiet for a little while, conjuring up a poem all on his own. Then he spoke,

"She will meet him one rainy night,
When destiny interferes,
He will be her hero,
To chase away her fears.

"He will tell her she is beautiful,
And they will dance the night away,
She will stay no matter what,
Through the brilliance of each day.

"She will tightly clutch his hand,
And never leave his side,
He will always protect her,
Each time the stars collide.

"He will consider her an equal,
As their minds and souls both merge,
She will feel the anguish,
But his heart will not diverge.

"She will risk everything for him,
The oncoming storm,
He will follow her into the dark,
To feel her safe and warm.

"He will echo through her dreams,
Burn up a sun just to say goodbye,
She will cry silent tears,
Still waiting for his reply.

"She will save his entire world,
Fracturing time and space,
He will make all her dreams come true.
Now he has had his last embrace.

"He is forever cursed to walk alone,
So this is what he must do,
She will feel the heartache,
Because he is not you.

"She will make her choice,
Because it did need to be said,
He will give her no goodbyes,
And his final tears will be shed.

"He will always be the lonely angel,
The man so many oppose,
She has everything she could ever want,
But she will always be his rose."

The green Irken blinked just once in disbelief. "That's horrible, Gir! It disgusts me!"

"But I'm sure Gaz will like it," he said pleadingly.

"I already have a poem ten times better," he announced. He cleared his throat with a firm 'ah-hem' sound. "Roses are red; violets are blue. Sugar is sweet, but not as sweet as you."

His only audience was the little SIR unit, who was smiling and clapping merrily. "That's great! She'll love it!"

"I know." The alien smirked at his completely non-cliche poem. "I also have it as my poem of doom for when I destroy this miserable planet. Roses are red; violets are blue. Enjoy your last days, for I will crush you."

His internal alarm went off, inaudible to anyone but himself, and Gir rushed off the the TV, shouting, "My show is on!"

The night was cool, and Gaz gazed up at the night sky. There were just a few speckles of starlight, but she could clearly see them. Though she never showed any emotion in front of people, she secretly snuck out later to release what she kept locked up. Oh, how she wished she could ask Dib what happened to their mother. And why their dad was never there. And so many other things. It would be nice if, just for once, all the pain of not knowing could just...vanish.

A few tears managed to slip past her guard and brought her from her lapse in concentration. She needed to keep them contained; she didn't like it when people thought she was girly and weak. But there was no holding these salty raindrops back. They were coming out no matter what she did.

All she could do was frantically and repeatedly wipe them away.

But they just kept coming and coming. She didn't even notice when Dib opened the door, getting ready to dash down the street to Zim's house with his spy camera in hand. But he paused when he saw her. Something was wrong; her body and breath were hitching and she was shaking somewhat violently.

"Gaz? What are you doing out so late?" he asked in concern.

She quickly tried to answer with an even voice, but her words came out broken and dismantled, "Nothing, I was just thinking."

Dib sat down on the step beside her, wondering if she was really crying like he thought. But this was Gaz, it could also be an evil trap to destroy him for something he did that might've angered her. However, when he sat down and looked at her, she didn't seem like the Gaz he knew at all. She kept her eyes on the stars that kissed the sky and there were countless tears streaming down her face, dropping off at her chin.

"What's wrong, Gaz?" he asked softly. She may scare the daylights out of him, but regardless, she was his sister and he was her older brother. It was his job to be there when she was upset about something. Whether it was a broken Game Slave or a broken heart.

"Dib, what happened...to Mom?" she questioned, mustering every ounce of courage she had, "And why is Dad never here? Was it my fault?"

Her brother's eyes dropped to the ground below them. It was Mom, huh? That's what she was so worked up about. "Mom..." he began, "Mom...didn't really go to Africa like we told you. You were so young back then...that you wouldn't have understood. We decided to wait until you were alot older to tell you, when you asked on your own. And now that you have, I guess it's only fair you know. Mom...never wanted us."

Gaz's attention snapped to Dib. Why? Why had their mother not wanted them? What had they done so wrong to have their mother's affections ripped from them?

Dib reluctantly continued, "At the time, she and Dad were dating. Then she got pregnant with me. And then I was born. But she never wanted anything to do with me. Even from when I was small, I could tell that much. But at the time, I just thought that was how moms were. I thought that was how they loved you. But when she got pregnant with you..." He took a deep breath, trying to control his own mixed feelings, and kept going, "W-When Mom got pregnant with you, she...she tried to...kill herself..." He sniffled and his eyes, too, were raining saltwater. "She already hated me, and didn't want another kid. But before she could finish up the act, Dad stopped her. They reached an agreement: she would carry out her entire nine months of pregnancy and then once you were born, she would leave...and never come back. And that's what happened. You were only a day old when they let you and mom out fo the hospital. Then mom left, and we haven't seen or heard from her since. So Dad took on the responsibility of raising us. And to this day we don't know where Mom's at."

Gaz took a little bit of time to let everything sink in. And after it did, the tears became more numerous. They were unstoppable now. "Why does Mom hate us, Dib? What did we do wrong?"

Her brother gently put an arm around his little sister, knowing how hard it was for her to hear such things. "I don't know, Gaz. I've asked myself that so many times, but I could never come up with an answer," he whispered, pulling her closer.

"But we were good kids, weren't we?" she asked.

"Yeah, we were. But it didn't matter to Mom," he replied.

"Did she ever sing lullabys or give us hugs?" she asked, hopeful that maybe there was some care in their mother. Surely she couldn't have completely hated them...right?

"No, Gaz. She never did any of those motherly things," he answered softly.

"What was she like?" Gaz continued to interrogate.

Dib glanced upward at the stars his sister had been looking at. He blinked away the rest of his tears and spoke, "She was...a good person. She liked to have fun with her friends. And she loved Dad so, so much. A-And every time you looked into her eyes...t-they sparkled. She was pretty and fun-loving and she was a great cook, unlike Dad."

This caused what he'd hoped it would. Gaz chuckled lightly. Dib forced himself to chuckle with her for a few seconds.

"Yeah, Dad's a pretty bad cook," she murmured, "But why is he never here?"

Another question that he'd have a hard time answering. "Gaz, when Mom left, the economy was bad. Dad tried, but he couldn't always hold down a job as well as take care of two kids, especially when one of them was a newborn. You weren't a real needy baby, but you still had to be fed every few hours and at around three and a half months, you started teething. Dad had to buy things for you to chew on as well as keep you fed. But eventually it became too much for him to handle alone. He taught me how to feed and change you, and I started taking care of you myself. Dad finally got a job that he could keep, but it required alot of work, and he had almost no time to come home and spend time with us. With me taking care of you and him making money, it kinda worked out for us and we've managed to stay out of debt that way. But then Dad got promoted..."

"He got promoted to his current job, didn't he?" she said, filling in the rest of the sentence for him.

He nodded. "Yeah. He said he'd always come home for the holidays, but...his job kept him from keeping that promise. Anyway, as you got older his job became more of a workload. But he kept earning good enough money to keep us off the streets. It was hard without Mom there to help him, but he managed. And I got a benefit as well. You were heavy for a little kid like myself, so by carrying you, I got stronger. Plus, it was fun picking out your outfits for the next day. I remember when you went to school for the very first time." He laughed and continued, "You were so scared, I had to skip school to come with you until you made some friends there."

So then...Dib had actually been there for her, not her dad or her mom, which she never knew. He was her brother, yet he was also more like her father than her biological dad. He'd taken care of her, he'd helped her, he'd played with her. And now she remembered some of it. Dib had always been the one to put a band-aid on her when she got hurt. Then he would kiss her boo-boo and she instantly felt better. Then she would run off to continue doing whatever it was she was doing.

"Feel better now, Gaz?" he asked.

She nodded as a response. "Hey, Dib?"

He looked down at her.

"It wasn't Dad who took care of me. It wasn't him who understood me, was it? You were the one who raised me, weren't you?" she mused.

Dib faltered. Where was this coming from? "We-Well, there wasn't anyone else around, so...I guess. I mean, you were my little sister. I wanted to be someone you looked up to. Someone you always thought of as cool, strong, brave, smart. And you did at one point. You would follow me anywhere I went and you would study me. Then you would try to act like me. It was actually kind of flattering. You used to think I was the coolest thing in the world. I remember how good that made me feel. I always loved to brag about you and how much you looked up to me. I would always say things like, 'My sister loves me so much she mimics me!' or, 'My baby sister thinks I'm way more awesome than you are.' And I remember using it to my advantage. I would rub it in peolpe's faces when they were mean to me. And when people were mean to you, oh, that's when I got angry! Your classmates were afraid of me because I would make sure no one picked on you. And no one did. But then you started getting into games and TV. I hated it, because the characters on the TV shows were always more mature and cooler than me. You started looking up to them instead, and I would often get jealous. But then I learned to accept it and move on."

That much was probably true; she'd stopped looking up to Dib a long time ago thanks to the television. But she secretly still thought he was cool. Just...not as cool as the people on TV. She hugged him tighter before pulling away and saying a quick, "Thanks, Dib." before walking back into the house.