(GAZ'S POV)

The vomit floated on the water, the disturbing image of her decayed, half consumed by larva, dead brother, staining her thoughts.

He was, of course, dead.

Gaz couldn't pull through with the idea, and she fed her mind that he was still alive. The dream, however, made no assurance of this whatsoever, sickening Gaz with the truth, the fact that Dib, was, in fact, gone.

She shuddered as she heaved once again, purging out the pizza that she and Zim had eaten just several hours earlier. Another shiver ran up her spine and her whole body convulsed with violent tremors. Gaz sat down, weak, on the floor beside the toilet and rested her head on the wall behind her. She wiped her mouth as she heard a dull knocking at the door, her body still shaking with uneasiness.

"Gaz?"

It was Dib's voice. She knew it. It was him. She could just... picture him, standing there, on the other side of the door with his wack-ass pointy hair, pale skin, glasses, worried expression...

The pitiful teen moaned and heaved once more into the basin, adding another load of vomit into the white toilet; the smell of puke infiltrating the room.

Dib was still alive. He had to be… had- …

Another image flashed in her head, Tak's vicious glare burning into the human, her pointy teeth and choked voice mixed along with Dib's tone resulting in a sneer. "Gaz."

"Gaz? Is everything all right in there?"

Her head finally worked with the voice on the other side of the door and finally realized that it was none other than Zim. Dib wouldn't be on the other side of the door. Dib wouldn't have even been able to get to the heart of the alien's base. Dib wouldn't even be there; he wouldn't even be alive.

Gaz's heart fluttered as she shoved the thought away, shutting her eyes and trying to push away the memory of the nightmare. Nothing was right anymore.

A small voice crept through her throat and whispered, "Dib?"

Her wish of seeing her brother came to no avail, only getting the answer of the door opening to a green alien. His face was twisted into a slightly disgusted, but pitying expression, while curiousness crept through his eyes. Zim had another pair of rubber gloves over his regular, black gloves, ready for any interference with germs.

Huffing out a disappointed sigh, Gaz forced her heavy eyelids open and stared at the disturbed alien before her.

"Gaz, Zim sees that you are sick. Would you let the computer do a diagnosis and perhaps give you treatment?"

Without words, afraid that if she opened her mouth she might puke, she nodded her head and closed her eyes, resting her head back onto the cream colored wall. A sharp throbbing started to pound over her left eyebrow as her throat stung with rawness.

Although her consciousness reacted to her surroundings, her mind never left the picture of her brother, engulfed in blood, maggots, and decaying stench.

(ZIM'S POV)

"Computer, run a diagnostic on Gaz. Inform me of any sickness or defections within her organs and list any possible vaccines," the alien said as he eyed the disturbed teenager in front of him. Zim squatted down and watched the red sensor scan the pale girl who was slumped against the wall beside the shower curtain. His dark crimson eyes searched the girl's face, her white skin looking sweaty and clammier as usual, and large, dark circles were swimming under her eyes.

Gaz was just… a mess.

"Calculations: Gastroenteritis; more commonly known as a stomach flu or stomach virus. This, being a virus, includes shakiness, queasiness that could lead to vomiting, fever, clammy skin, sweat, and weak muscles. There is no TRUE cure; research lists that the human anatomy fights off any bacteria or symptoms on its own. Humans need rest, due to the fact that they become fatigued or tired during the recovery."

"And… what do humans eat? They'll only just throw up everything." Zim grimaced as another moan came from Gaz, who then clutched her abdomen in pain. "Nothing for the next couple of hours; drink fluids such as water or ginger ale. This virus did not come to her through the spreading of germs; this is due to the cause of stress and anxiety."

"Thank you Computer, that will be all for now." Zim dismissed with a flick of a gloved hand before getting up and crossing over to the girl who was now wiping her mouth. He held out a gloved hand, helping Gaz up to her feet, trying ever so carefully as to not make her dizzy, and took her back into the bedroom.

"The results say you need rest. I won't force you to do anything," Zim murmured when he saw Gaz shaking her head vigorously, clenching her jaw shut. Were humans always this stubborn? Sighing, Zim requested she sit on the couch and turn on the television while the alien went upstairs to retrieve some , Zim tried to figure out why Gaz wouldn't dare sleep when she needed it most. Perhaps she couldn't sleep; or she was… no. Gaz was scared of nothing; no creature, human, demon, anything, could scare the gothic teen to the point of sleep deprivation. She was stronger.

Or, at least Zim thought she was.

Stepping out of the elevator, he found GIR shut off, his eyes a dark grey, stating his absence. Zim trudged over to the tiny fridge in the kitchen, one side filled with human filth- er, food, and the other side, a secret entrance to the Irken base below. Eyeing what fluids Zim owned, he became relieved as he spotted a bottle of Ginger Ale on the top shelf.

"Computer, were there any benefactors as to why the Gaz-human had come to this… stomach virus?"

"Yes; she was under great stress and anxiety due to a previous nightmare. I could not gain any information upon this; my technology has not been upgraded or advanced to that level of diagnostic calculations," the computer replied in a monotone, robotic voice. Sending chills through Zim's Squeedily-spooch, he knew it was worse than his mind could possibly imagine. If it caused Gaz discomfort or distress, the nightmare had to be… completely mortifying.

(Author's Note)

I think you guys can take a guess on who killed Dib?

It's surprising how Gaz reacts to her brother's absence and how the dream completely scarred her. What do you think?

Rate Me, hate me, message me, flame me, review me, inbox me, do WHATEVER to let me tell you your view on the story!

-Invader Mad's signing off.