Disclaimer thing: Yes, I don't own IZ. Yes I know they are out of character. Yes, this is my first fic. Please don't kill me. This might suck, or will randomly stop…

Chapter 1

Oh, How I Hurt Here

It had been almost three years since he had first met the students in Skool. Oh, how he loathed the place; yet he found a need to go there now. It was a new year, in High School, and Zim had changed his look.

He had gotten taller by a few inches. Sure, his outfit was the same pink and black set of the Irkens uniform, but he got a new wig. What can only be described as an emo-cut now covered the left side of his face. He figured it would best suit him now, since his attempts at controlling Earth had failed.

Zim sat on his doorstep, looking up at the sky. He wanted to go back home, but knew he couldn't.

'I should've known.'

His leaders—his beloved Tallest—had finally let their hate for him show through their jokes. Their words were harsh, though the thought of abandonment was a hasher outcome. They told him. How much they hated him, and how badly he would be tortured for trying to go back.

'They left me-they left Zim-alone.' He rubbed at his eyes, fighting the pressure that had built there. 'Damnit! Not again!'

There were only a few hours before he would have to walk to school.

'Three hours.' Zim rubbed his wrist and went back inside. 'It's long enough.'

He made his way to the couch, sitting on the edge of the cushion.

Zim had forgotten why he found comfort in this Human act, but when his hand found the blade, a smirk spread on his face. He took of the black glove from his left hand, pulling the sleeve far enough away so it would not get stained. Scars littered the flesh, some had blood still stuck to them. Holding the small razorblade tightly, Zim dragged the blade across his wrist, pressing just hard enough to break the skin.

Light red blood lightly bubbled from the cut, dripping to the floor in small drips. The smirk on Zims face tensed as he repeated the motion again and again, until there were three cuts on his forearm, two of which crossed old ones. Zim let the wounds bleed out for a few minutes before reacting to the stinging that radiated from it.

Holding his left hand in a fist to help ignore the pain, Zim quickly crossed the room and wrapped his wrist in a piece of gauze. He then put his glove back on and got ready for the day ahead.

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The alarm clock rang, signaling a new day of an old habit. Dib got up, quickly noting that his plan to sleep in his clothes would save him almost ten minutes of half-asleep coordination. He had only a half hour before his sister, Gaz, got up, and then ten minutes after that to reach his school.

Dib quietly pulled on his black trench coat, then smoothing out his old shirt with a smilyface on it to stay at his black jeans. He had gotten taller over the break, and was not looking forward to a new year in the hell of school.

He had decided to walk to school that day, not wanting to be pestered on the bus about past years. That was another thing. He had quit bothering Zim just before school ended last year. His talks of the paranormal had cost him enough already, and he hoped that he could regain some of what he lost.

He hadn't seen anyone of his classmates since the year before. Dib had no need to. None of them were friends, yet. He hoped that a change in style would grant him at least one friend. Loneliness at this years' lunch would mean being bullied by a whole new mean crowd.

A quick glance at the clock revealed that Pop-Tarts were the best choice, since he had delayed himself into almost being late.

'Dib, you have to stop blanking out. Seriously, you stopped talking out loud to yourself, why can't you stop this?'

With that, Dib bolted from his house as Gaz woke up with a 'where's the remote!' Ugh, he hated the thought of being punched first thing in the morning. Everything was his fault if Gaz couldn't find it. His father still spent countless hours in the lab or at work. The family was still loosely holding together.

The walk to school brought him past Zim's house. At that time, Zim was leaving for school. They noticed each other, and Dib waited for him.

"Long time, no see Zim." Dib said, leaving out any insults this time. The Irkens sudden outfit change had him a bit confused. "Why the sudden change in look?"

Zim let out a quiet sigh at the question. "Hello there, Dib-stink." He glared at the ground, kicking at a pebble there. "My look is none of your business." He snapped. "I just wanted to, you know, look different, that's all."

"I just was wondering." Dib looked ahead at the school, a flood of tired students trudging inside. "We better get moving. Being late to class and to school on the first day have two different penalties." With that he sprinted off, Zim soon following behind.

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Zim followed Dib down the hallway to first period. They had received and compared schedules when they entered the building. They would be stuck together, again, for this year. Zim was silently relieved at this fact. Something within his mind told him to keep the Dib around, that it would benefit him.

First period was English, and Zim was seated in the back of the room, ten seats back and two rows over from Dib. Zim felt that the blade he had used earlier was in his pocket, and smirked to himself.

'It won't hurt to do it again.'

His thoughts made his hand raise and his words ask to go to the bathroom. The teacher let him, and Zim almost rushed there.

Zim quickly locked himself in one of the stalls, and removed his glove. He slowly peeled back the gauze that he had put on earlier, not wanting to leave the new wound open to the air. Zim dropped the blade on the floor before finally holding it over his wrist, hesitating a moment. What was he afraid of?

'No one will find me. Don't think, everyone's in class now anyway.'

With that, he dragged the blade against his skin, letting the blood drip. No one would find the blood; the evidence would be flushed away after this. Again and again, just like earlier, the cuts crossed others. One was a little too deep, but nothing that would be fatal. After a minute went by, Zim wiped the excess blood off and re-wrapped his arm before putting his glove on, hiding the evidence, and returning to class.

Zim was hoping to himself that he didn't let too much blood go. That would mean that the wound would bleed out through his glove before school was over. It would mean that someone could find out that he was doing this.

He ignored the stinging pain from his arm as he entered class. The back of class held one advantage: no one could see the poor Irken slightly wincing as he held his arm in his lap, as if cradling the injured limb.

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Dib sighed when the bell rang for second period. It would be English, which would be boring. He looked back to see if Zim would follow him again, and was a little bit shocked that he looked paler than earlier, but he said nothing. Dib didn't want to anger the alien this year; he had enough of that already.

They walked to their next class in silence, and were assigned seats again. The teacher had gone through the list twice by the time the bell rang for Science. English went by fast, especially since Dib slept through parts of it. Zim had woken him up, since he wanted to not get lost alone.

Science held the only young teacher they had so far. And she let them pick their seats. Zim dragged Dib with him to the back lab-table. Dib found it weird how badly Zim wanted to sit in the back, let alone with him.

Whispers could be heard about how the teacher was 'hot' and 'almost our age' from the guys. Dib didn't really care for her; the teacher seemed like a grown up whore to him. Then again, he was not a "normal" person. Being the "weird kid" for a few years crushes a reputation.

The bell rang for lunch, and everyone hurried off. Dib knew where the cafeteria was, and led the way there. He heard Zim let out a quiet hiss as someone walked into him, but thought nothing of it. Figuring that it was just Zim being, well, Zim was enough for him to forget the occurrence.

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End of Chapter 1

Note: yes, not too bad, right? R&R please...