Invader Sideos cracks his fingers in a slow…annoying manner and says: I've had to download Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas again…and it's not downloading! NOO! I love that film too much for it not to download!

But it now seems my X-box is working again…odd how it didn't work for about a YEAR then suddenly it decides to work again…

Ok peeps. Prepare for the wangsty greatness that is chapter 9! Yea! Woop! You have no idea how long I've been planning this chapter out...

Ok. Written to the blues. Canned Heat, Alabama 3, Muddy Waters that kinda stuff. Yea. I love the blues. The cradle of all rock and roll.

I don't own Zim. And neither does Jhonen Vasquez, that's right! Viacom own all rights to Zim, so Vasquez owns NOTHING of Zim!

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Zim woke up. The first thing he noticed was that he was naked. He could feel the soft silken sheets covering his body, all of his body. He could feel a slight breeze coming in from the gaps in the boarded up windows. His skin was prickling in the cold draft the snow outside was helping to create. His open eyes viewed only upwards as he seemed to be lying on his back. He could pick out the dirt and filth that was the ceiling above him. He moved his arm, feeling the silk covers brush against his skin. It seemed however his gloves where still on which, somewhere inside, he took to be a good sign.

He felt odd, like he had been running all night. Usually he felt tired after a night's worth of A, but this was a different sort of tired. He felt worn out, inside his mind and outside. And it was the outside that was odd.

He closed his eyes, feeling them burn as they clenched together. He felt like they should be shut for a very long time, at least for a good few hours until he felt less strange. He felt weird all over, most of his skin felt tingly, warm, at some points even wet.

Zim opened his eyes slightly and sat up, rubbing his head as he did so. His right hand went over his head and ended at the back of his neck, where it clenched and hung.

He groaned loudly and pulled himself up to the bed post. Bed post? He looked around his surroundings again, this time in full consciousness.

He was sitting, naked, on the bed he had discovered earlier that day...or what now increasingly seemed to be last night. He could see that his clothes seemed to be strewn about the room, starting from the door onwards.

He closed his eyes tightly, feeling them burn once again. He also placed a thumb and forefinger over them, rubbing them, making himself feel the burning sensation more. For some odd reason it felt good to do so. It seemed to wake him up a bit more every time he did it. He moved his hand away from his eyes and shook his head rapidly. He tried to remember exactly why he was in a bed naked but all that came up were flashes of his last trip. Nothing but swirling colours and weird images of crazy things.

Zim growled loudly, everything was so damn cloudy.

Then suddenly, there was a soft moan beside him. Zim snapped his head round to look to his right and froze in absolute horror. Lying next to him, still asleep, was the skinny green frame of the bunny girl. No, Zim slammed his eyes shut and shook his head. That can't be right.

When he slowly re-opened his eyes he watched as the green skin and bunny ears faded to become deathly white and a head of black hair. She groaned lightly again and rolled around sleepily. Lilith was still asleep, but, like Zim, she was naked, her clothes could be seen on the other side of the bed.

Zim felt like the room had suddenly gotten much colder. He felt sick, but also deathly numb. He felt like his skin was too heavy. He gulped slowly and it hurt. He moved away from the sleeping human at an agonisingly slow pace, he didn't want her to wake up. He wasn't sure what he would do if she did. He found his clothes scattered in a line leading from the bed to the door, which was convenient seeing as that was the direction Zim was stealthily heading. By the time he had opened the door he was putting his arms into his coat and tying up the laces on his boots.

Zim walked into the next room and shut the door mechanically, his eyes and expression were blank. Then, just as he was about to walk out of the room, he balked and threw up into the kitchen area. He suddenly felt a rush of weakness go through him and he couldn't stand properly. He tried to force himself to walk towards the door, but he couldn't. He seemed to have lost all his energy. He grimaced and literally lifted himself up using the kitchen counter. He then staggered towards the door, slamming into the corridor walls as he did because his legs were shaking so much.

Zim steadied himself, his mind still blank, refusing to think about what deep down he knew had happened. He began walking, this time much more steadily, without making a single sound. He walked down the filthy corridor, passing door number sixty-five without a glance, down the wreaked staircase and out into the morning snow.

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He didn't remember most of the walk home; he wasn't paying attention. At several points he was almost run over by a few cars, but he didn't notice. He was almost zombie-like in expression. He couldn't think of anything, he couldn't feel anything. He only knew that he had to go home. When he got through his front door, totally unaware of his neighbours peeping though curtains at him, he emotionlessly took of his coat and dropped it onto his couch, creating a huge dust cloud.

The place was a mess; there was dirt and dust everywhere, a clear sign that its owner had not been around for some time. This, of course, happened to be the case. Zim didn't notice the mess as he proceeded to walk into the dark and dirty kitchen. He then ordered a lift to the cleaning room in a scratchy voice that was void of any feeling.

Soon he was again taking his clothes, and contacts, off as he walked into his shower room. The room was a small, simple structure. Heated Irken water would fall from the roof to be absorbed into the floor, effectively cleaning the person using it. It could be ordered to any temperature and even have the walls change colour or switch to a TV channel if the user wanted it to. Zim however just walked in and, in a monotone voice, ordered some water. He then slowly backed into the corner of the room and sat down with his PAK resting against the wall. Quietly he drew his legs up to his chest and hugged them tight. He stayed like that for some time, with water falling down onto him while he stared unblinkingly into space.

After what seemed like a few hours, he slowly looked down at his thin arms. He looked at them like he was analysing them for any disease or germs.

"Dirty," he whispered in a slightly croaky voice. "I'm dirty. Computer, raise the temperature of the water."

The water increased in heat, but Zim again ordered it to increase. Soon he could feel the heated water painfully burning his skin. However, this was not enough.

"I'm still filthy," he said, this time more loudly and with touches of hate. "Computer, get me something to scrub my skin with."

The computer replied slowly and with great caution. "Err...master, are you sure?"

Zim exploded with rage. "GET IT FOR ME NOW YOU WORTHLESS STUPID THING!"

A panel opened at the side of Zim, producing a small, bristled, hand-held scrub while the computer quickly muttered "Ok, ok."

Zim took it and began to run it slowly across his arm. However, slowly began to become faster and harder. His face turned into a sharp, angry scowl as he saw his skin began to welt at the torture he was putting it through. He didn't care though. He could feel the screaming pain of his intense cleaning of his body, but he didn't care. He deserved it and needed it for what he had done. He had to get clean, he had to scrub his action off himself, he had to get rid of the dirt and feel of that human.

Eventually he stopped, but only after a good half hour of constant mass pain inducing self cleaning. He emerged from the shower looking like he had just gone several rounds with a rabid wolverine. His skin was covered in huge deep green welts, at some points he was even bleeding. He grabbed a towel from a helpful tendril coming from the ceiling and quickly dried himself off. He then walked over to the fresh set of clothes the computer had laid out for him.

As he pulled his left glove tight onto his hand he sighed. He clenched his fist tightly; he had felt the first ripple of his addiction calling out to him, echoing within his body, his mind and his veins. He closed his eyes and hugged himself tightly.

"You're worthless."

His eyes snapped open at that word, that hated word. However, what they landed on surprised him. Standing in front of him was a much smaller, healthier, and much more confident looking Zim.

Zim looked at his smaller self for a moment before remembering his hatred at that word and diving at him. The smaller Zim easily sidestepped his taller, sicker looking self and laughed cruelly. "HA! You're diving at figments now? Jeeze, all that spike stuff has really messed your mind up."

Zim gingerly picked himself off the floor, as the pain from his shower was still there, and turned to give the smaller Zim an evil glare. "Go away. You're just another stupid hallucination."

The smaller Zim nodded, "Indeed I am, but unlike the other images I am a representative."

Zim looked at his smaller self suspiciously. "Representing what?"

The figment grinned and threw its arms out to its sides. "I'm representing your common sense."

The Irken rolled his eyes and turned away, "I should've guessed." He began walking slowly towards the stairs; he didn't feel like taking the lift up to the upper levels.

As he walked he heard the smaller Zim run up to his side and eventually fall into step along-side him. "Hey, you better listen to me. I've got stuff to tell you."

Zim walked past a bunch of cleaning equipment he used on Gir and other electronics before coming up onto the staircase. "Huh, like what? I already know what I've done and I've fixed it."

The smaller Irken laughed harshly as they came up to the next level. "Yea, taking an abusive shower really helps solve this problem, huh? Don't be stupid."

Zim glared at his smaller self. "Well I don't see you spouting any better ideas."

The figment looked back seriously. "That's because I need to make you see the real problem. We can't form a solution until we properly analyse the problem."

Zim looked to his side as he passed various large machines that he had used in his past world conquest attempts. "There is no problem. Only a terrible mistake." Zim looked down sadly. "A mistake Zim should be killed for."

The smaller Zim hopped up onto the tracks of a large, tank-like machine and sat looking at the taller Irken. "It wasn't your fault."

Zim snapped his head up to glare at his the figment. "Not my fault? You're saying it wasn't me who...mated with some stinking human who I thought was a female Irken with bunny ears? I mean, even when I say I was deluded at the time doesn't make it sound any better. In fact, it makes it sound worse."

He began to walk on and the smaller Irken jumped down and hopped to be beside him again. "That's not the point. The point is that you were deluded in the first place."

Zim reached the steps leading to the next level. "Yea," he half snorted half laughed. "I suppose that would be a largely deciding factor."

The smaller Irken glared up at him for a second before looking forward again. "Look, how long have you had this obscene fascination with the opposite sex?"

The junkie looked down in some slight embarrassment. "Since I first got on the drug. But I really don't see what that has to do with anything. I mean, maybe the delusions, yes, but it couldn't have effected my hormone control. It only affects my mind."

The smaller Zim stopped, looking at his taller self like he had just admitted he was really a large moose. "You've got to be kidding me. You really can't be that blind, can you?"

Zim turned his head, looking at a large variety of huge containers, each filled with a different coloured liquid. In the containers were a selection of pickled experiments, various monsters and genetically engineered demons to terrorise the world with. Zim sighed. "It gives me so much pleasure and power. So much of what I've always wanted. Surly something so great and wonderful couldn't be the cause of all these problems?"

The smaller Zim swiftly caught up with his taller self and stared at him intensely. "Look at what it has made you become. You used to be so full of energy, full of ideas on experiments and interested in exploring every aspect of these natives. Even if they are a bunch of backwards filth-worms. Now look at you. You're weak, ill and lonely."

Zim turned to glare at the little Irken. "I am not lonely. Zim needs no one."

The smaller Irken smiled cunningly. "Oh really? What about Gir? Was he not company you enjoyed? Can you say you do not care for him?"

Zim walked up to the next level, refusing to make eye contact with the figment. He walked through the mass of huge boxes that had yet to be opened. Most of these contained weapons and equipment that could wipe out cities in seconds. Zim had never used them though; he enjoyed making his victory an epic event. He always felt that using some super weapon made it a bit too easy for him, and besides, in the years before the truce the fight became less about destroying earth and more about beating Dib, and he didn't need a super weapon to beat Dib.

He sighed and sat on one of the un-opened boxes. "Ok, I care for Gir, but only because we've been together from the beginning. He's never sad to see me, always helpful." He suddenly chuckled. "Well, sometimes anyway," He looked at his figment self who was standing, arms crossed, in front of him.

Zim rubbed his arm unconsciously over the point where the needles went in. "But he's safe with the Dib-beast."

The figment said nothing, but raised one antenna. Zim looked at him for a moment before he read the look and scowled, "Dib? HA!"

The smaller Irken calmly stated "Has he not been there from the start also?"

The junkie laughed harshly again. "You forget he was trying to kill me."

The short Zim twitched his antenna in annoyance. "But does he now? No, I don't think so. In fact, if I recall, he confided one of his deepest secrets to you and then tried to help you."

Zim sneered and stood up again. "Yea, great load of help that was, wasn't it?" Zim spat at the smaller Irken.

He turned his back on the figment and began walking, or perhaps stomping, towards the end of the room, towards the stairs that led up to the kitchen.

His smaller self ran up behind him, glaring angrily at the back of Zim's head. "He was the closest thing you've ever had to a friend and when he tried to stop you from self destructing you pushed him away. You literally left him standing alone."

Zim didn't want to hear this, but he knew he couldn't stop it. He began to climb up the staircase. He wanted the figment to shut up, he also wanted to stop feeling so low, but he new that neither could be currently accomplished. "I don't care," He said quietly, "He's not my friend. Zim doesn't need friends. I'm perfectly happy as I am."

The figment ran in front of Zim just as he was about to get to the door that would open up into the kitchen. Its eyes bore into Zim and he silently wondered how a hallucination could have such a furious look. "Zim. You have become nothing more than a pathetic, servile little nothing. You've lost all your friends, all your dignity, all your honour, all your health and it's all because you're stuffing your shell with that damn drug. Look at what it's made you into! You know what? You're no better then a worthless human now."

Zim slouched down onto the floor at these words. The statement had hit hard and it showed. "No, I'm not human. I'm an Irken."

The smaller Zim sneered at him. "Let's see, shall we? One, you mix with scum. Two, you permanently live on earth." Zim was flinching with every number as he realised each one was true. "Three, you indulge in pleasures deemed below the Irken people. Four, you're obsessed with mating. Oh," and he smiled wickedly at the crushed look on Zim's face. "Five, you mated for the enjoyment of it."

It finally all sank in as he realised he really had lost almost everything. The only thing left was his life, and he had even lost that at one point. His common sense figment was right; he had become nothing more then an inefficient machine, no longer supporting the collective goal of a unified people, but seeking personal satisfaction at the cost of his Irken honour. At the cost of the honour for which his entire race stood for. He had betrayed them bit by bit until he had committed the biggest betrayal of all.

He looked to the floor on the other side of the staircase. "I...I...I want..."

The smaller Zim walked to his side. "You want what?"

Zim looked up to the figment, he face the picture of morbid realisation. "I want to get better. I don't want to live in destroyed hotels or step over needles anymore. I don't want to be constantly sick and ill. I don't want my thoughts to always be of some female. I want to be as the machine again. I want to work for the good of something again."

There was a moment of silence as Zim looked down at the floor. Then he looked back up to the smaller Irken. "Zim?"

"Yes, Zim?"

"I have a problem."

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WOOP! YEA! What a chapter! So full of emotion and talking to figments and such. This was so far planned out you won't believe. Really, this (next to the next chapter) was one of the things I set out from the begging to do. In a way, it's a tribute to JTHM no4 but also some stuff here comes from a nightmare I once had (the whole waking up/finding self in similar situation/shower thing) and I also wanted to cement the idea that Irkens think being like a machine is better then obeying feelings.

But don't worry kids! Zim's gonna go back to being regular cold, unfeeling Zim in the next chapter. This is just a one off since he's talking to himself and no ones around to see him act like a sissy.

I am gonna stick to the 'I care for Gir' thing as canon as Zim does indeed show interest in the well being of Gir in the show.

Woo. This was all done in two nights, finished this chappy at about 4 in the morning. Late eh?

Oh, and guess who's coming back in the next chapter? One guess, his name begins with D…

R&R my loyal zombie readers! (The regular non-zombie readers can also review if they want.)