"Are We The Waiting"

-

Starry nights city lights coming down over me
Skyscrapers and stargazers in my head
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown
-

No one else would of cared. It was just an unused warehouse, in fact, it's owner was contemplating taking it down himself. It was near the edge of what was called, 'the city.' As opposed to the dirty houses and cluttered streets that made up the rest of it. The Dead city. It was barely considered part of the same place. Something that everyone knew was there, but never bothered to notice at all. Like something at the edge of your conscious that you never could actually see.

There were a few people who cared about what happened to it. For them, it was their home. They couldn't afford anything else. In fact, many where from another city, who had managed to travel to here. There was nothing else that they could cling to other than themselves. It was even hard for them to do that, no one could ask more.

Dib stumbled into the town just like the rest of them, albeit much more calmly than they had. He had nothing he was rushing to, or at least he didn't think he did. He stared up at the buildings towering over him. It reminded Dib of his old city. He even recognized some of the stores right next by the ones that they were as he remembered them. He didn't bother kidding himself about it though, there was nothing that could bring back a demolished city, it wasn't like a video game where if you made a mistake you could load your saved game to keep everything from rolling downhill.

Dib had the strange desire of going up to the top of one of those buildings. He didn't know exactly where that came from, but he decided to follow the train of thought anyways. The lights shining down on the street kept the stars out of view, it was almost like day in the main part of town.

It was just a busy as daylight as well. Dib pushed his way into the mall, the easiest way to get to the roof past all of the people who didn't seem to know that it was time for bed. Dib ignored the crowded elevators and started on the long trek up the stairs. It was fifty floors, but that did not deter Dib from his goal.

"I think this is snapping me out of it more then anything," Dib muttered to himself. The physical exertion was clearing his mind much more then the drug had. That in itself did not make sense to Dib, but he figured, as long as it worked...

Isn't this what I did before? Something... chasing...?

The fiftieth floor wasn't as far off as Dib had thought it to be. And the roof door just happened to be unlocked, how lucky could one be in a day?

-

This dirty town was burning down in my dreams
Lost and found city bound in my dreams

-

It was from the top where he saw the flames. The top of the mall rose far above the buildings surrounding it. One could see the dead part of the city from there. The fire was not that large, but the smoke was noticeable against the light of the city. If it had been farther near the outskirts the darkness of the Dead city would have made it unnoticeable. In fact, it wasn't that far away from where Dib was.

Dib strained his ears and eyes. Nothing. It did not seem as if the fire was noticed, for no sirens went off in the direction of it. Maybe it was an intentional fire, like the one the firefighters set for practice on a donated building.

Except the scream. That was too real for it to be a practice. No one else noticed, no one else cared. Dib knew that feeling. He knew how much it hurt. There.

Alone.

-
And screaming
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting
And screaming
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting
-

"What happened?" he ran up in front of the brightly lit warehouse, a group of about twenty people standing in front of it, some screaming, some deathly silent.

"I don't know," one of the men their turned to face towards him. The dirt on his face was from living, not the fire. His face seemed to be plastered into seeing a horror picture, which for him was exactly the case. It would be hard for so many to find another place to live. Many wouldn't be able to find another place to live. "I was asleep, and I woke up to find that the eastern corner of the Casket was in fire. Many were tryin' to douse it, but it fed on the few other crates housed in here that we've never touched... filled with petroleum."

How ironic. The Casket. It was to be their graves in the first place. Just not this soon.

"Are their people still in there?" he asked.

"I know that Sara's still in there," he shook his blonde hair so it covered his face, but his voice gave away his sorrow. "And at least two others. They're probably dead by now..."

"Let's find out," Dib grabbed one of the buckets of water that had been filled up for the annihilation of the fire that no longer were used. What would be the point? He threw it over himself, soaking his hair and jacket and beginning to dampen the clothes underneath it. Just the same here, Dib thought, What is the point of me doing this?

"What are you-" the rest of the man's sentence was cut off as Dib felt the heat of the flames suddenly take its toll on his face. The presence of the heat was too much, especially to one who had gotten used to the temperatures of the night.

He rushed into the building, any remaining fog in his mind now gone in the presence of a life and death situation not set up by himself. Fire sprang everywhere, jumping from place to place, spreading like a wildfire on a dry plain.

"Hello?" he shouted, refraining from coughing from the hot ash he inhaled.

There could have been an answer, but the roar of the flames covered any reply. Dib kept moving, afraid that if he stopped he could be immediately surrounded by flames. Squinting, he made out an unconscious form on the floor. He quickly made his way over to him, a boy of seven years probably. Dib took off his wet glove and put it over the child's mouth, realizing he had forgotten to do the same for himself. Not wasting time on the thought, he continued, knowing he couldn't spend much more time inside or the boy would have no chance and their exit could be cut off.

"W-wai-" the voice cut off with an wracking cough, as the girl it had come from collapsed where she was nearly encompassed by fire. Dib rushed over, turning her face up to apply his other wet glove over her mouth. He narrowed his eyes as he recognized her.

It was Sara. From skool.

-
Forget me nots and second thoughts live in isolation
Heads or tails and fairytales in my mind
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown
The rage and love, the story of my life
The Jesus of suburbia is a lie
-

He hadn't imagined that when the man outside said Sara was still inside that it was the one he knew. She'd know him too, Dib remembered. Zim. That was his enemy's name. Was it Zim who destroyed his hometown? Then he recalled her, her eyes. Sadness.

Gaz.

It was me.

The shock of the realization nearly made Dib drop the boy and Sara. It wasn't Zim at all. It was him. Why? WHY?

Dib didn't remember leaving the building, all he felt was that he needed another fix. And fast.

"Damon!" yelled a girl, coming over and taking the boy from Dib's arms. "And Sara! Jose! Caleb! Help him!"

Dib felt Sara taken from his arms and someone supporting his weight. He was taken a bit aways, other words being said, but none piercing his mind. HE killed them all. He was going to save them.

"Here's some water. Drink."

Dib coughed as he attempted to swallow. The cold water seemed to attack his burnt throat, a way for his body to get back at him for the stupid choice of going into a burning building.

"You were very brave. Everyone wanted to tell you that, but I figured one person taking care of you was enough for the time being. Here, don't drop the blanket."

Dib grasped harder at the blanket that he just noticed around himself. His eyes finally began to clear the ash from themselves. He blinked a few times, somewhat able to see the pretty girl in front of him.

"Are they alright?" he asked, making his voice strong. He didn't want to stay for very long, he was a murderer. He had best just jump off of the top of the mall right them.

"Yes. You're gloves were fast thinking," she put them in his empty hand. "You look familiar, do I know you?"

"You're better off not," he shook his head, his hair covering his face completely. He hadn't noticed how long he had allowed it to grow.

"Do you need me to get you anything?"

That question caused Dib to look up at her through his hair. Her purple hair, darker than Gaz's, hung loose around her face, not pinned up, down to her shoulders.

"Gretchen?" he asked, pushing his glasses (no longer fogged) up on the bridge of his nose.

She blinked for a few seconds before she looked over him again. "Dib...?"

Dib pushed down the horror in him, knowing most likely he was going to be strangled, it was him who had destroyed their lives, but he figured he'd get that much from Sara. If she got up before he left. Instead of all that, he put on a sort of smile. "How you doin'?"

What he was not expecting was a hug.

"You're alive!" she breathed, holding him closer still. "Damon and I hadn't seen anyone from home until Sara here! I can't believe you're alive!"

Dib managed to push Gretchen off so he could see her thoroughly. She seemed more mature then last year. Skinny, but not as the teenage girls were starving themselves; muscle on her arms, she had to of worked to of gotten this far.

"Who's Damon?" he asked her.

"My brother," she smiled, a plain smile, not ecstatic or sad, and that made her beautiful, which surprised Dib. He had never thought of her like that before. "We were the only ones of our family that survived the bombing. Sara's all alone too. What about you? Is Gaz alright? Your father?"

Dib lowered his head again. He killed them. "I haven't seen them since."

Her smile faded. "I'm sorry Dib."

He shook his head. "It's not that different. They were never around back then anyways." Were they? He tried to remember, but all of his feelings pointed back to nothing. They were never there for him.

Then why does it hurt so much?

"Have you been doing alright?" she asked hopefully.

"Not bad," he answered truthfully. He figured he could have been doing a lot worse. He could of lived with the knowledge of what had happened for a year. He could have died.

But would that really have been worse?

"You should get some rest," Gretchen stood up, seeming as if she wanted to stay and talk more, but knowing better.

"Right," he decided not to tell her of his increasing insomnia, as he lied down.

"I'll be just outside," she tugged at the overhead cloth of the small makeshift tent that was made just for him as she left. Dib rolled over, suddenly feeling very drowsy. His eyelids closed almost instantly as he got as comfortable that was possible. Then he had a thought.

I'm alive. That means Zim is alive.

He doesn't have a choice otherwise.

-
And screaming
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting
And screaming
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting
And screaming
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown
Are we we are, are we we are the waiting unknown

-

Gretchen did not remember drifting off, but she noticed she had fallen asleep when she snapped awake by the sound of her friends, her roommates, all talking incessantly. She rubbed her eyes and walked over, now alert. Ever since having to take care of her younger brother, she never had a consistent sleeping pattern, so she just fell asleep whenever and when she woke up she was never drowsy. She could of used that talent when she had to wake up early for skool. But that was a long time ago.

"-and so it fed itself out," she heard Dib's voice from the crowd of twenty-two people. It didn't include her brother or Sara or Jose who was watching the two. All together they were twenty-six people who made a sort of family. A family with no home. "I know that now you are susceptible to the constantly changing weather of this planet. But I think I can help."

"Dib?" she asked, pushing herself past Kayden and Audri.

"Gretchen," he smiled at her, seeming more happy then she had ever seen him be before. No, that was not true. That had been when he had thought that their sixth grade class was going to believe that Zim was an alien. It was then she had seen him truly happy. And truly hurt. "If you all stick with me, I'll carve out a place in stone for you all to stay. I will try my hardest to make a place where you all will belong. But you'll need to work, perhaps harder, then you've had to before. I won't abandon you like the rest of the world. Are you with me?"

And Gretchen found herself saying yes along with everyone else. Not because she believed him like the rest (although she did), it was because of his smile. The smile she did not crush on, the one she fell head over heels in love with.

Well, how was that? Blah, blah, blah, r&r, blah, confusing, blah, blah, blah, any good? Yeah, I thought so. I'm supposed to have something to say here, but I can't think of anything. Other then it was definitely better than the last one, or at least to me. Next chapter is St. Jimmy. Anyone who knows the lyrics... oh, yeah. This'll be fun.