The whole world slowed to a crawl.

It lasted only seconds, but it felt like hours.

Zim could do nothing but watch as GIR jumped in front of the officer's blast. His tiny body absorbed the impact and was instantly flung against the wall. He bounced off, and there he was: collapsed on the floor of the prison. Not moving.

Gaz had shot at the officer once she saw the first flicker of movement, but still wasn't fast enough. Dib slowly began moving again, as did the officers who were stunned during the trio's entrance.

The squid fell to the floor, stunned but satisfied. Gaz, with a furious cry, shot him over and over with the blaster, but he never lost the gleam of pride in his eyes.

Gaz felt sick. If only she had reacted quicker! Then GIR wouldn't be...

GIR.

She tried to resist turning around. She didn't think she would be able to stand it. She had lost. Whatever state GIR was in now would be because of her failure.

But she couldn't help herself.

Tentatively, she turned and looked over her shoulder to where GIR was.

Zim was staring where GIR once stood, directly in front of him. His eyes were unreadable. His slacked jaw slightly quivered. When he saw Gaz turn around to look at GIR, he did the same.

GIR was lying face-down, dented metal glistening from the lights overhead. Steam was pouring out of his top plate, which was dangling by a thread off of his head. His legs were twisted together, and one was almost completely ripped off.

Zim just looked over his mangled body, completely rigid. His legs were quaking. His hands balled into fists. Slowly, very slowly, he sank to the ground. His whole body was trembling now. He reached out a shaky hand and rolled GIR over.

GIR's cold, blank eyes stared back at him.

No warm cyan, no expression whatsoever.

Everything was completely dark.

Dead.

Silent.

Broken.

Dead.

Gaz expected Zim to yell. She wanted him to yell. She was used to him yelling by now.

This was her fault. She hadn't shot in time. So why wasn't he blaming her? Why wasn't he saying anything? It was almost more painful. He wasn't even crying. Gaz didn't think he could.

Dib was fully mobile now, which unfortunately meant so were several officers down at the far end of the hall. He winced when he saw GIR. It wasn't natural, to see such abnormally happy creature completely still and lifeless. It felt wrong.

Dib was the one to break the silence. "What if... he's just paralyzed? Stun guns, right?" Dib asked worriedly. Gaz swung around to face him, instantly angry.

"LOOK at his gun, Dib! It's NOT THE SAME ONE." She glanced away, but her voice was still enraged as she finished, "Video games taught me that things that look different ARE different. So I think his gun was real."

Zim still didn't a word. Too many of them were spinning inside of his mind. There was no way he could form a proper sentence. So many awful, painful things that threatened to flood out of his mouth, but he was unable to speak them. But one word rose above the others:

Destroyed.

Just like the last bit of his will.

Dib now looked down the corridor, the rumbling of the hostile aliens charming towards them. "Uh, hate to interrupt this," he said harshly. "But we kind of need to leave. Now."

"And what ship are we taking, genius? I hope you don't mean the destroyed one we used to CRASH INTO THIS PLACE." Gaz hissed.

Dib wouldn't let up. "Alright, fine, but we still have to get out of here! If we don't find a ship soon, there's no way we'll make it out alive!"

Gaz only huffed in response, and then turned back to Zim. He was still on the ground.

Then, he leaned forwards. Cupping his hands, he gently lifted GIR's head and body off of the ground, holding him like a princess. He pulled GIR closer towards him until the sputtering machine was pressed into his uniform, tight enough to make Zim's entire body shiver which each of GIR's internal rumbles.

Then, Zim stood. His eyes were hard, narrowed with rage. His mouth was curled into a snarl. Without so much as a warning, Zim took off, leaving a stunned Gaz and Dib behind. Zim was running right into the mob of aliens.

With no choice, the siblings followed him, clearly very fearful for their lives. They nearly crashed right into the mass when Zim made a sharp right turn into a hallway.

Keeping up with Zim was a challenge at first, but once they were in the hallway he started getting slower and slower. The pink dots on his PAK glowed red as a mechanical voice said, "Energy levels critical. Backup transportation engaged."

Zim's spider legs appeared then, allowing Zim to continue running without fainting before they got on the ship. All the emotions that were pounding inside him were starting to take their toll.

They found a vacant officer ship, which they instantly climbed inside of. Zim's spider legs retracted and he began inputting coordinates into the vessel. The machine rumbled to life and left the dock, but not before Zim activated a tractor beam and carried his old ship along behind them. Dib looked out the window and saw the angry officers climbing out of the destroyed building just before Zim activated the ship's turbocharge and sent the whole crew zooming through space, on a course for earth.

The ride home was just as silent as the ride there, but a different kind. Now there was tension, fear in the air. All concerned for GIR, and for Zim as well. He hadn't said a thing in what felt like so long. Dib was staring out into the wide vacancy of space when he heard a noise; a tiny sound that carried through the oxygen-tight aircraft. He glanced around, unsure of where it was coming from, before looking over to Zim.

Zim had GIR's still body on his lap; one hand resting on his chest, the other tightly gripping the steering wheel. There was no need for him to have a hand on the wheel, however, since Dib instantly saw that they were on auto pilot. Zim was looking down at GIR, and that's when Zim realized that he was humming.

It wasn't a tune he recognized, and the low mumbling didn't sound like any of the languages he knew. Was it Irken? Did Irkens have their own language? Did it matter anymore?

The last question made Dib pause. He was in space, in an alien ship that an alien stole from OTHER aliens! Hostile aliens that captured criminals. Criminals that were, also, ALIENS! Dib should be freaking out right now! HE WAS IN SPACE! He had just witnessed the coolest (and most terrifying) thing in the world! So why didn't he feel... anything?

He didn't know.

When they finally made it back to earth, the ship immediately flew to Zim's house. The ship that had originally belonged to Zim was lowered into a room deep below the actual home, while the one they were currently flying in parked inside of the roof. Quietly, Zim led Dib and Gaz to the door. They had expected no thanks, and were offered none. Just a blank, cold stare before the door was shut in their faces. They began the trek back home, deflated. They hardly considered this a win.

Zim didn't rest, not even for a moment. He had to get GIR working again. For days Zim stayed inside of his lab, repairing and modifying GIR. Minimoose took over GIR's normal duties, which admittedly wasn't much. Just gathering supplies for Zim and providing emotional support, something Zim was in dire need of. The computer had lessened its normal sass and just did as it was told. A difficult task, of course. But it wasn't done without effort.

Zim had contacted the Tallest only once, to alert them of the new alien threat they might now face. The Tallest pretended to be fearful and then instantly hung up. Didn't matter to Zim: he needed to work on GIR anyway.

One of the computer's many jobs was to keep evidence of the mission's progress. Zim usually only used this purpose to monitor the premises, but little did he know, the computer had been taking photographs of all the major achievements Zim displayed so far on earth. They were... minimal, besides lab tests and engineering. But now the computer was taking pictures of other things, like Zim fixing GIR. Technically it counted as an engineering experiment, but the computer was really only saving them to show GIR once he was rebooted. Despite how annoying GIR could be, perhaps showing the evidence of Zim hard at work entirely for GIR's well-being could help calm down one of his fits? That is, if he ever was back to normal again...

Zim worked, and the computer watched. Fighting his own exhaustion. Skipping school. Ignoring the mission. The mission hadn't crossed his mind in days. Zim slept in the lab, one hand always resting on top of GIR's chest, the other on top of Minimoose's head. Zim hadn't needed to sleep in a long, long time, but his body was still recovering from the emotional weight pushed upon him in one stressful sitting. Besides, Zim had a clingy-ness spike, now that he was reunited with his tiny assistant.

After nearly five days of this, GIR showed promise. His outer shell had been completely de-maimed. The internal repairs were showing progress. Most of GIR's data ships were already back inside of him. The smaller ones Zim had underneath a microscope, facing away from GIR. While Zim's back was turned and he was lost in thought, GIR had begun... stirring!

Minimoose squeaked happily, and the computer barely suppressed a gasp. At this, Zim turned and looked at them. "Eh? What's the noise for," he slurred wearily.

"Nothing, sir," the computer reported. "Just running a data-stream scan on GIR." The metallic voice was bouncing as GIR moved more and more. It silently triggered an electrical spark, which flowed through GIR and helped re-energize him. Zim had already turned around again. GIR managed to sit up on the lab table, and Minimoose had to fight against squeaking again, for the surprise factor.

"And how's he doing?" Zim inquired, his antennae flicking with each questionable noise coming from behind him. With a strangely warm, and -dare he think it- human voice, the computer simply said, "See for yourself."

Zim twisted himself around, expecting to see anything but bright blue eyes glowing back at him. With a sudden burst of excitement he exploded from the desk and squealed, pulling the wide-awake GIR into a massive hug. GIR stood on top of the table to reach him better.

Zim couldn't even begin to describe the feeling of GIR wrapping his arms around him in that very moment. He felt like there was a big balloon being blown up in his belly that made him feel like he could float away with glee. Minimoose tried to nuzzle his way into the embrace, his soft fur brushing against both of them. Zim couldn't keep himself from laughing any longer. He enjoyed the feeling of it bubbling out of him; his evil laughing fits were never this wonderful. That's when he noticed GIR wasn't laughing along with him.

Of course Zim had expected minor glitches, but this... didn't feel minor. Tilting his head up to look at GIR, he could see that he definitely was giggling, there was just no sound coming out. He hadn't said a single word thus far, which was record-setting and unnatural. Slowly, the joyful balloon began to deflate.

"GIR... I..." Zim tried to initiate conversation. He had intended it as a test for GIR's voice issue, but now that he was able to speak to GIR properly... he was starting to lose it, a bit.

"GIR, I'm so sorry that this happened to you. I promise that I would have searched this whole side of the galaxy for you, just... don't tell Dib." He laughed shakily, and then continued. "Don't worry about those mean officers anymore, okay? I've alerted the Tallest, and I'm sure that they're on their way to vanquish them right now. And even if they're not, I'll never let them get you again. P-please, if you're going to take away anything from this speech... let it be that."

GIR's mouth opened in a smile that went on for far too long, with no sound emitting from him at all. His jaw was flapping a mile a minute, as per usual, but Zim couldn't hear anything. He sighed heavily; he had found his first issue.

"Computer, scan GIR's voice chip for damages." Zim ordered, sounding much more like his old self. The computer complied, but didn't say anything. Zim heard the scanning noise again, but the computer still didn't speak. "Computer, report!" Zim barked.

"Uh... there's no damage, sir." The computer said quizzically. "The voice chip is... not showing any signs of distress."

Zim squinted his eyes at the screen. It was true, no damage reports were shown. "Are you sure, computer?" Zim asked again. That couldn't be right. GIR wasn't talking, so it had to be a voice box issue. That made sense.

"I'm positive," the computer repeated, equally as confused. "There's nothing to indicate any malfunctions."

That was weird, but Zim could handle weird. "Alright then... I'll just finish GIR's other chips, then. Perhaps it's their absence that's causing the glitch?" Zim wondered aloud, then turned back to the microscope. He found himself glancing around the room, unfocused. His desire was obvious; he wanted to go back to GIR. Be near him, make sure he was going to be okay, convince himself of that. At last, Zim gave in.

He turned to face GIR and Minimoose, smiling weakly. "I guess I am due for a quick break... do you guys wanna-"

He didn't even have to finish, for GIR and Minimoose already flung themselves in Zim's direction. GIR clung to Zim's leg while Minimoose provided a platform to carry Zim with: his body. Minimoose glided sloppily towards the elevator, and GIR took enjoyment in trying to steer him using his antlers. Zim smiled fully now, trying his best to ignore GIR's silence, that now relentlessly called out to him.

The three had a lazy evening, mostly filled with eating and lounging. That's where they were now, all lying on the couch, watching an infomercial. GIR was lying on Zim's chest, deep in sleep-mode. Minimoose was curled into the crook of Zim's knee, fidgeting, attempting to get comfortable. Zim was initially worried that Minimoose would tickle him into disturbing GIR, but Zim was able to keep his chest from bouncing too much. He had one hand holding his head up, with the other dangling off the side of the couch, barely reaching the floor. Now, the silence was natural. Before, however, disregarding the quietness was proven to be nearly impossible. He had never noticed just how much GIR provoked conversation: without him talking, no one could think of anything to say.

Zim tried to let the TV distract him, his mind now focusing on the calmness of the scene. The darkened room contrasting the brightness of the screen that danced on the walls and provided low noise to fill the air. GIR's cold metallic shell kept Zim from feeling too warm, and Zim liked it; the chill was refreshing, much more so then GIR's overheated warmth from a few days earlier.

Eventually the harsh light began to irritate his eyes, and Zim let them drift to floor and trace the cracks in the tile.

He felt himself drifting off into sleep again. He had never slept so much in his entire life until this past week. It was unnecessary, but oddly... nice. Zim's own weariness, along with his heavily relaxing surroundings eventually lulled him into sleep, his henchman nearby. As they should be.