Author's Note:

Part three of my old story, originally written between 2002-03. What follows is the final edit. This is the last part of TWFF! However, there is still more to come...

I can't say thank you enough to everyone who has so far read, reviewed, and favorited this story! I'm glad it is being read, and being enjoyed. :3

-Invader Zim is -c- Jhonen Vasquez.-

-All grammar and wordings herein are expressed and detailed in Gaz's writing.-

~Jizena~

Time Warp Factor Five

Part Three

I can accept a lot. I am a open person. Or, at least, I like to think that I am.

The MIYUKI program, however, tested the limits on what I found myself able to deal with while still keeping a shred of sanity about me. From day one of the time warp, Irken interference in my life had been constantly changing my views of what was possible, and what I had to accept to be true. There was, however, one thing that the Irkens, by any means, were not allowed to take from me; that they were not allowed to change:

My brother.

And yet there I stood, fearing what would come next, utterly disconnected from what I had always assumed was myself. The girl who lived in darkness, who alienated herself from all civil human activity, who went to great lengths to keep away from the crowd, was now faced with the reality of being alone. The bond, as family, that Dib and I were forming made the situation that much harder. The more I realized I needed him, the only real constant presence in my life, the more I began to worry about losing him. We hardly looked alike, but I had, if only secretly, prided our only similarity all my life. Now I stared at red irises rather than brown, and knew that I would have to choose carefully my next steps, actions and words, in order to prevent the Irkens from taking any more of him.

Whoever the hell Miyuki was, I hated her. Deceased be damned. I hated her.

Luckily, Dib was holding on well. The fits had calmed down once Zim had announced that he had planned to reverse whatever the current problem was. But my brother spoke slowly, knowing something was wrong.

"Reverse what?" he asked Zim again.

"Machinal influence," Zim explained, wincing as he grasped his right arm, just below the freshly bloody bandage wrapped around Tak's dagger wound. He shifted his gaze to me, and I felt myself shudder when I caught his eyes, red as well. "I don't understand the game's construct, but just after you two ran up here, the screen of your game shifted," he told me. "It said something about opening up that bonus round you mentioned, and that this thing just mentioned."

"And this thing," said Dib, pointing to the computer. "Is it really linked to somehow, or is it somehow, a Tallest called 'Miyuki?'"

"As far as I can tell," Zim answered gravely, his attention back on my computer's screen. "Tallest Miyuki was known for her technological advancements. It's possible that her inventions would have outlasted her. Actually, scratch that. It's highly probably, and most likely true."

"Inventions..?" Dib mused. He took a step away from me and almost immediately held his head. His stance was off. He was dizzy, off-kilter. All I knew was that something had to be done, and soon, before those red eyes could cause any further Irken-like damage... "What else did Tallest Miyuki invent?"

"I don't entirely—" Zim began.

"Time travel..?" Dib tried. He cringed and rubbed at his eyes with the index finger and thumb of his right hand. "Did she make any advancements in time travel?"

"I—"

"IS TAK USING THINGS MADE BY THAT TALLEST?" Dib demanded.

"Oooooooooooooooooooh, somebody's aaaaaaangryyyyyyyy," GIR observed from one of my shelves (into which he blended quite well... I have a couple shelves containing inventions of my own: modified stuffed animals with killer appendages—look, they're neat, okay?—that Dad helped me draft up once before he went completely crazy). We all ignored him, which is usually one of the best things to do when GIR is around. Then again, he had proven himself useful a couple of times already. Oh, well. His non-sequiturs could be ignored, at least.

"I have no idea!" Zim shouted right back. "If I knew, I wouldn't be in this situation at all, now, would I?"

"God, Zim, you are so fucking useless!" Dib barked. Fed up, and with the spark of their animosity reunited, he lunged. Hurt arm and all, Zim was quick to stop him. Dib, having absolutely no fighting experience to speak of—minus some lucky strokes here and there—took a hit before he could think to deal one back again. I was too busy stewing over how damned angry I was at a) Miyuki, b) Dib's disturbing new eye color, and c) the rest of the damn world. Otherwise I'd have stepped in sooner. I should have, too, because the next thing that happened was Dib grabbing Zim's neck, and Zim returning the favor.

"Oh, just try it," Zim challenged.

"Don't think I won't!"

"Hey, would you both shut up?" I snapped at them.

"Stay outta this, Gaz," my brother ordered.

"Hell, no!"

"Stay out of—"

"NO." I took my only chance to step completely in between Zim and Dib, and, with all my strength, pushed them the length of my wingspan apart. Now, my arms certainly weren't as long as either of theirs, but the shove was just enough to get them to knock their senseless bickering off. "Look, I fucking hate everything that is going on right now," I said, flat-out, "and if I have to stop it alone, so help me I will, but it'd be just great if you morons help me. Okay?"

"Gaz, I—" my brother tried.

"Okay?" I repeated, giving him a death glare.

He didn't seem to care that his glasses were sliding off. He did notice that my death glare must not have cut as hard as it usually can, since I was still disturbed by what I was looking at. "Y-yeah," he gave in. "I'm with you."

"Zim?" I asked, shooting him the look as well. Zim backed down much faster than Dib had, and flashed a quick, apologetic smile when he took a step away from me. "Okay, good."

"Sorry," Zim added, for good measure. My eyes went to his wounded arm, then back to his expression. What the hell was that cut doing to him, anyway..? "All right," he sighed. "Let's just go through this. Um... game. Bonus round. Miyuki. Tak. You needed, what? A code? Let's start there."

"Just what I was thinking," I lied. It was bothering me that I was technically being beaten at a video game at that moment. Sure, we weren't actually playing, but I consider tossing around knowlege about video games playing, too. I'm so fucking serious about my games. Shrugging off my discontent, I retrieved the game case and handed it to Zim. "Upper corner, there, see?" Zim peered at the back of the case, probably searching for hidden Irken runes or something to that effect, then shrugged.

"80891," he read. "As far as I can remember, that's nothing special. Nothing that would suggest—"

"My birthday..." Dib said, barely audibly. He grabbed the case from Zim's hands and glared at the code. After a second, he shook his head and removed his glasses. When I asked him about that later, he confided in me that the electric shock effect had changed his vision. He was able to view the world more accurately, more precisely—in other words, it cured him of his nearsightedness, but in return, his eyes felt like they were encased in red cellophane. Everything in the world, he told me, was shaded in red. It looked, Dib told me only about a day ago, like war.

No wonder the Irkens are so obsessed with destruction, if that's the way their eyes work.

Dib gave the code another once-over, then held it up to the screen, as if to catch it on webcam. "Is this some kind of sick joke?" he demanded of the program. "80891. August eighth, 1991! Am I right?"

The computer program, the woman's voice, laughed. I've seen and heard a lot of disturbing and unbelievable things in my life, but that was one of the worst.

Even Zim backed off at this point. He and I exchanged a quick, nervous look. Neither of us knew how to proceed, which in itself was terrifying. For a moment, I thought that Zim's... you know... background in, oh, having grown up Irken, could possibly have shed some kind of light on what we were dealing with, but, no, even he was lost. Then again, I reminded myself right away, he wasn't the smartest Irken out there—far from it—and he had only just confided in me that sixty years of his life surmounted to a big gaping hole in his memory.

"AM I RIGHT?" Dib repeated, losing his temper something awful.

"Player Two," said the computer. "Advanced."

"Don't just feed me bullshit!" Dib shouted. "That tells me nothing. Tell me why the code was my birthday, and how you knew! Who are you?"

"Dib Membrane, you are an investigator," said the computer. I shivered again. I wanted the answer as much as he did, but at the same time, I didn't. The more I learned about all the weird stuff Dib had devoted his life to, the less I could walk away from it. It was seeming more and more like soon I'd never be able to walk away again. I'd be involved for good. As someone who normally likes to leave well enough alone, this didn't settle well. Still... nobody gets away with traumatizing my brother but me. "You were born on August eighth, 1991. You have posession of an Irken ship—"

"Oh, for shit's sake," Dib growled. "Now I know Tak's behind this! She just wants her ship back! Tell me what's up with my—"

"—which requires an Irken pilot," the computer went on, ignoring him. "Keep the eyes. Your perceptability will—"

"I don't want them!" Dib argued. "Fix it!"

"Player Three is still active," said the computer. I instinctively looked over at Zim. "Both must advance, or both must decline."

Dib whipped around to look at Zim. For a moment, I expected further argument between the two, but instead, I got a silent stare-down. And I saw it: Dib was pleading with his old enemy. I got it at that point... what the computer was talking about, I mean. About advancing or declining. Both get the ability gained in the bonus round of the 'game,' or both give it up. In other words, the prize this time was a step away from being human and a step closer to being Irken. Half of our whole goal this time was getting Zim back to being Irken, which had, just earlier in the day, seemed like a reachable goal (as far as Zim himself had told me, with his new philosophy). It would be harder, if he gave it up now.

Zim didn't take long to convince. "I quit," he said firmly. "It's all up to you."

"Then I refuse," said Dib. "I want my eyes back."

"Noted," said the computer. "Procedures are in place. Players One and Four are present—"

"Shut up!" I yelled, storming up to the computer. I ran every possible way to quit the program, but it persisted, still spouting out random garbage that I could not make sense of. "Quit, damn you!" I tried. It continued. Without thinking, I shouted, "I can't take it anymore!" And with that, I seized the laptop and hurled it across the room. Against the far wall, it shattered. Blue sparks flew everywhere, and the broken computer remains piled up on the floor, smoldering.

Everyone was silent for a minute. I turned to look at my brother, recovering from the second wave of electric shock, and Zim, faring only slightly better. "You have to admit," I said, heaving out a breath, "that was getting pretty annoying."

Dib blinked in astonishment, then snapped out of his state of shock. "My eyes…" he began hesitantly. "Are they…"

"They're fine," I assured him, examining his eye color. "They're brown again." That was more than a relief. Even though we'd backpedaled, it felt like now we'd beaten something huge. I hadn't wanted to look at those red eyes a second longer.

After a beat, Zim asked, "And mine?"

I sensed he was eager, and I almost lied to him, just to see him less depressed.

"Brown," I answered, giving in to the truth. "Sorry."

Zim shrugged. "It's okay," he said. "I just… it's okay."

Before I could ask him what he was about to say, I noticed GIR, out of the corner of my eye, walk over to the broken computer. He cocked his head to the side, looking it over. It occurred to me that, being what he is, GIR must feel some sympathy for machines. His eyes turned red and he kicked at the wreck.

"It's too soon anyway," he said, displaying no emotion.

"Huh?" I wondered. "What's too soon?"

GIR looked up at me, eyes back to normal. "Biscuit?" he offered, grinning.

I moaned. I should have known I wouldn't get a straight answer. Not from him.

But to this day it bothers me: what was he talking about? He'd been acting different lately, and this proved it. He has a secret even now, and I still haven't figured it out. There's more to that little robot than he leads you to believe, I can tell you that much. But I have yet to find out just what it is.

"Should we be worried?" Dib asked Zim.

"About Miyuki?" Zim replied. "No. Not yet, anyway."

"What do you mean, 'not yet?'"

"I mean not until we're through with Tak," said Zim. I saw him tense up. "Miyuki is dead. She's dead, she isn't our problem right now. Tak is obviously still around, or coming back, or something."

Dib, back once again in annoying paranormal investigator mode, folded his arms and scowled. "Doesn't change that it doesn't worry me," he said. "Who was she? She must be important to our current—"

"NO ONE!" Zim lashed out. "She's no one anymore, okay, she's dead!"

"Well, was that her?" Dib wondered, pointing to the sad remains of my computer.

"Yes! I don't know! Why don't we drop it?"

Stupid me, I pushed the issue further, without thinking: "Zim, who was she to you?"

"I—DON'T—REMEMBER." His tone was straight and firm, and for the first time in days he glared at me with contempt. "I don't remember and you would both do well to shut up about it! Do you really want to hear something? Do you? Sounds like you do, so here you go: wanna know why I'm the most hated Invader in the army? Wanna know why the entire Armada hates me? Yeah, I know they hate me. Every single one of them hates me, Tak was right! Because I killed her. I killed her, I KILLED HER." Tears came to his increasingly human brown eyes, but once again refused to be released. "I killed the most valuable person the Empire has ever known, and I can't even remember doing it. I can't re—fuck!"

As Zim bent over himself in mental anguish, grabbing at his bangs with both hands, my brother strategically placed himself in front of me just enough to show that Zim was getting nowhere close to me any time soon.

"Hey," Dib said strongly, taking full control of whatever the hell was going on. "I have a lot of questions for you."

"Who says I'll answer?" Zim spat back, still grabbing angrily at his hair.

"Zim, this is important!" Dib shot. "We have two tasks right now: get you back to being Irken, and get the hell back home, back to the way things are supposed to be. We can't acheive the second without the first, and we keep digging ourselves deeper into some larger plot than Tak's stupid lies and schemes, and—"

"Jeez, then, good luck," said Zim bitterly, straightening.

"What?"

"Yeah, good luck! Good luck, because every step we take makes me more human." His eyes fell on me for a second, before they narrowed to challenge Dib again. "And you know what? I'm fine with it. Bring it on." He outstretched his arms. "I could do much worse than this right now, you know? I can start over. I can forget everything. And right now, I want to! I resign as an Invader! Good luck on the rest, but if you need me just for Irken knowledge, count me out."

"Zim—"

"See you in school tomorrow," he muttered before leaving the room. I started after him, but Dib grabbed my arm.

"Dib, lemme go," I commanded, scowling up at my brother. He did not, and his eyes narrowed, telling me that there was only one thing that was going to happen for the rest of that afternoon: we were going to talk. I probably was not going to like it. Lovely. Just fantastic. Defeated already, much to my chagrin, I sighed and gave in, but wrenched my arm free of Dib's grip nonetheless. "Okay," I growled, "what?"

"BISCUIT!" GIR screamed. We both turned our attention on the annoying little robot, who did some kind of breakdance, pelted us each with a biscuit, then flew out the window. That thing really had the power to confuse the hell out of me. One minute, he was screaming and making no sense whatsoever with his words, and then next he'd go and do something useful... or creep me out with weird prophetic lines like the one he had uttered only minutes ago.

Dib squatted down to retrieve the biscuits and his previously discarded trench coat, and said, "You know, this actually reminds me that I'm kinda hungry."

"I'm not," I muttered. That whole Miyuki ordeal had made me lose what little appetite I'd had all day.

"You still need to eat. I'm getting worried about you."

Okay, this was new. "Huh?" I wondered, for clarity.

"I said you should eat," Dib repeated, standing and pulling on his coat. "It isn't—"

"No, the other thing."

"What, I'm worried about you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Dib shrugged. "I'm your brother. I need a reason?" I was too addled to speak. Dib sensed this, and started to go. "Come on," he urged. "We'll find something for dinner and then, well, I think we both have some things to say."

He'd gotten to the stairs before my feet let me follow. Everything was turning and spinning and rocketing out of reality; life was working its odd ways and changing too much all at once. Plus, too much was getting thrown at me for my comfort. Zim was human. I accepted that. I liked that. I was more or less his girlfried. Okay, whatever. Of course, now he had to go and get all worked up based on the MIYUKI program, and I'd been no help in that. He was losing his grip on his own reality, but had basically admitted that I kept him grounded. I made myself a mission for the next day: figure out what the hell was wrong with him. That, I realized, could take a while, so I whittled it down to talk to him. Whatever would come of that.

Then there was Dib. I was getting more and more concerned for him. We'd bonded lately, but the courses of his actions led me to believe that perhaps he was getting too sucked into this current, warped reality. Whether or not his latent acceptance of all these changes was directly influenced by Tak was beyond me, but not beyond the realm of possibility. I think that's what I hated most about her: she kept pushing boundaries like that. And now Dib had just had too close a brush with the Irkens—a program, rooted in the mechanical memory of some ancient Tallest, had infiltrated his body like a parasite and turned his eyes red. Had it done anything else? Sure, he looked fine now, eyes back to normal and everything, but how was I to know whether or not anything else had gone wrong..?

More than anything, I just wanted to get back to normal. As much as I liked a great many things that were coming of this experience, it wasn't right. None of it was natural. Hopefully, that was what Dib wanted to talk about, too.

I joined him in the kitchen, where he milled around a little, looking for food. Dad isn't the best at keeping a lot of things around, so we settled for microwavable frozen burritos. There were three in the fridge, each a different kind, and Dib nuked all three, kindly taking the pulled pork one for himself (I've hated pork products ever since a recent incident that I can't even bring myself to write out for fear of puking up bad memories) and giving me one with chicken; we split the third, just rice and beans. I'm not completely partial to Mexican food. I prefer pizza. But that would have taken a while and required that Dib know something about ovens (I'll note that neither of us was in the mood to pick up the phone, which made takeout a big no), so burritos it was.

As I picked at mine, eating with a fork to force down bigger portions than I actually felt like eating, Dib asked how I was doing. I shrugged. He asked again, so I demanded to know what he meant.

"You looked really shaken upstairs," he said, distantly. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay, that's all..."

"Shaken?" I repeated, slamming down my fork. "I was watching my brother and my bo—best friend," I corrected quickly, "getting led around by some weird Irken... I don't even know what! And I couldn't do anything! I hate being useless."

"Really? Because as long as I've known you, you've left well enough alone," my brother observed, a more stern edge to his voice this time.

"I—well, sure," I said, realizing my mistake. "No... I mean, I do, it's just that lately, things have gotten way too weird. Why? Are you mad at me for being concerned for you?"

"You were?" Dib wondered.

"Um... yeah..."

"Oh..." Dib drifted off, and looked guilty for a second. He had been bound and determined to spend our dinner conversation railing on me about something or other to do with Zim, I was sure, but now I had control. I didn't use that control to take advantage of anything on the Zim front, though, or even to leave. Instead, I started speaking my mind again.

"I know I usually leave well enough alone," I told him as I pushed aside the last of my dinner. "And it'd be nice if I still could. Every single day, though, I get sucked further into this weird world you've always been chasing after, and I'm realizing I don't wanna lose you to it. Can I tell you what really worries me, Dib?"

"Huh? Sure, what?"

I took a deep breath, and told him something I have never even had the guts to write down, for inner fear of it happening: "Losing you like we lost Dad." That hit a bad chord, and Dib recoiled, then leaned forward, his elbows on the new table that had appeared with the new kitchen, and buried his head in his hands. "Having you around," I continued, "but not here."

"Dad went crazy because of his work," Dib said in a quick whisper.

"Yeah, and you almost got branded with Irken red eyes because of yours." I wasn't being argumentative, just stating a truth. "Look, maybe it took until Tak shooting to kill me to get what these Irkens are really after, or to even start mistrusting them the way you do, but I do now, and I don't like that Miyuki person for what she almost did to you."

"Well, then, do you get my angle, then?" he asked of me, dropping his arms so that they were folded on the table, looking at me through his glasses with genetically proper brown eyes. "Why I don't trust Zim?"

"Zim's human," I said flatly. "Or, at least, he wants to be."

"Tak is a liar and so is he, all right?"

"Dib, I wish you'd talk to him before jumping to conclusions!" Oh, dammit, it was turning into the shitstorm Dib had wanted all along. Dib offered no answer, so I took my chance: "I'm going to be talking to him tomorrow about what just happened upstairs. If you get a chance, any chance at all, you should, too. You'll find out he's not such a bad guy, all right?"

Surprisingly, Dib leaned back, sighed, corrected his glasses by sliding them up the ridge of his nose, and said, "All right. I will. No bias. Just talk."

"I wanna be there for it," I added.

"No way," said Dib. "You two've had plenty of conversations on your own. I'm not going to pry about anything, I'm just going to see how human he actually is. And if I can tell whether or not he's lying about anything."

My brother, the human lie detector? Please. I rolled my eyes. "Fine," I said. "But, just... one thing before that."

"What?"

"You said you saw us..." I began, not wanting to add the action in there.

Dib snorted, and massaged his left temple. "Yeah," he said, sounding put off. "I'd gone out for a walk that night, came back, looked up, you fill in the rest."

Okay, good, it was just once. I grinned inwardly.

"It wasn't much," I tried to dismiss.

Dib nodded as a way to toss the thought aside. "I'll get his side of it tomorrow." To switch gears, he added, "By the way, while I was rooting through files in Tak's ship earlier, I discovered something interesting."

"What?"

"Her complete attack has always been about emotion. Right from the start. Why else would she have shown up first on Valentine's Day?"

"Valentine's Day is stupid," I muttered.

"Yeah, but people buy into emotion more than usual that time of year," Dib pointed out. "My guess is, she's known plenty about humans for quite some time. If you ask me, psychological warfare is a lot more dangerous than that lava thing she tried last time."

"Are you trying to warn me..?" I guessed, darkening my tone.

"All I'm saying is, be careful."

As we were both about to stand and clean up after dinner, I decided to end the conversation on my terms, and to make it about him: "Really, though, Dib, are your eyes all right? Are you?"

To my instant relief, my brother smiled. "I'm fine," he told me. "Really. Still a little shocked from what happened, but I'm feeling a lot better. It was really disorienting while it was happening, but I think I can sleep off the rest of the dizziness that came from it."

"That's good," I sighed.

I wasn't completely convinced, though, because I noticed something a moment later. Maybe it was just a trick of the light, but I could distinctly see small flecks of red in Dib's eyes. Like the mirror shards caught in the eyes of the child in The Snow Queen, they were barely noticeable, but worrisome nonetheless. I could only hope it was a trick of the light. I didn't want to lose Dib to his work, but losing him to the Irkens would have been even worse.

– – –

I walked into the English room the next morning not caring that my homework was, once again, half-assed. For some reason, the English teacher made us read the first page of each of our short story assignments aloud.

"For the most wild, yet most homely narrative which I am about to pen," begins The Black Cat, "I neither expect nor solicit belief. Mad indeed would I be to expect it, in a case where my very senses reject their own evidence."

Damn, I thought. I could start a story of my life this way.

The highlight of first period, though, was that Kiki was not there. The air in the room was about 86% less congested with perfume than it had been a few days ago when she was in class.

I honestly don't know why I was in Drama. "I can't act," I muttered as I entered the auditorium for second period. "Maybe I'll just leave during class."

The only other person in the room when I entered was Tak.

So she is still here, I thought, smirking.

I walked up to her, stupidly enough. "You fucking bitch," I said to her. "I'm gonna claw your eyes out."

She looked up from where she was sitting. "I think, perhaps, I will kill you," she responded.

"Fair enough," I shrugged.

Other students started filing in, so I got as far away from them as I could.

Ms. Burns decided to have us read the original Taming of the Shrew to "get a feel for the play and characters, and discover the motivation." What was she on?

About halfway through the class, things got interesting. I heard the side door open and close, and the room fell silent.

"Is… ah… is this the right room?"

I looked up from my script and scanned the room.

"Auditorium, right? Sorry I'm late."

I knew it! It was Zim. He looked a little uneasy, but, then again, why wouldn't he? He had a backpack slung over one shoulder (his left, I noticed), and headphones temporarily around his neck, the cord leading into the front pocket of the bag.

"Oh," said Ms. Burns. "You must be Zim. Transferring from… which class was it?"

Zim shrugged. "Nothing important," he replied. "I don't remember."

"I see. Do you have the transfer slip?"

Zim dug into his pocket and fished out a folded piece of paper. "Y'mean this?"

"Yes." Ms. Burns turned to address us. "I'll just be a moment. Take this time to read through your scripts. Zim, feel free to take a seat."

"Sure."

Not surprisingly, he made his way to the back of the auditorium and sat diagonally in front of me. He hesitated on removing his backpack, but he finally just slid it onto the floor and took off the headphones.

He took out a pen and a pad of paper and began writing something feverishly. He didn't turn around, or even speak to me, until class was almost over.

"Hey," he said about two minutes before the bell. "My next period is study hall. Yours?"

"Same."

"Good. Get a library pass. I have to talk to you."

Without questioning him, I did as he said. We met up in the library, in a corner far from activity.

"Look, first thing that needs to happen is I need to apologize," said Zim in a hushed tone, hiding his eyes from me. "I'm sorry I froze yesterday. I just... I don't know what happened. Plus, I... well... I can't completely recall how it all happened..."

I was beyond confused. "Explain..?"

"Well," said Zim, "my mind's kinda hazy. I remember resolving those Miyuki issues, but the conversations aren't too clear. The next thing I can remember is waking up this morning."

"So… you don't remember denouncing your life as an Invader, and declaring that you wanted to 'start over?'"

"Not exactly. Did I say that?"

"More or less."

Zim ran his fingers through his hair nervously. "Dammit," he cursed, muttering. "It's getting worse."

"What's getting worse?"

"Me," Zim answered. "It's happened before. I blank out and it's like some other will takes over. It never exceeds ten or twenty minutes, but still…"

He glanced around to make sure no one else was listening.

"I don't know what it is," he went on, "but I know it's not normal."

"Huh," I said. "Well, it's good to know you're not giving up, that's for sure. Maybe it's paranormal. Maybe Dib can––"

"I was afraid you'd say that," Zim groaned.

"Oh, come on. Dib's helped you plenty of times!"

"Yeah," Zim shot back unscathingly, "enough for us to have a partial friendship!"

"Is that it?" I guessed. "Afraid of turning an enemy into a friend?"

"Pretty much. I mean, I don't mind it now, but once I'm back to really being myself…"

"Irken, you mean."

"What? Irken? Oh, right."

Zim put his head in his hands. "God, it really is getting worse…"

"Zim..." I tried, instinctively setting a hand on his arm. Forearm, but he still winced back. When he noticed I wasn't going for the cut, he relaxed a little and set his left hand over mine, as if that was all that was keeping him stable and clinging to the world beneath his feet. "You said yesterday you were getting flashes from... way before," I recalled. "But now you're forgetting current events?"

"It's weird," he admitted. "My mind is just one big mess. I know Tak's behind it somehow, I just know it. She's the only one with the ability right now to jerk my head around like this. Remind me of things, rip them away, make me start over, mix around my sense of reality..."

"If it's any consolation," I said, "you seemed really in control at the start. I mean, you came right up and—what was that all about with the player numbers and stuff?"

"It was the order we started the game, when we played against you that night," Zim shrugged. "In the actual videogame."

"Oh. Well, you caught that way before I did, then," I admitted, feeling a little dumb about missing that obvious detail. "I'm serious. You seemed so in control..."

Zim rolled his eyes. "Then I'm better at faking it than I thought."

"Faking it?"

"Heh, yeah. As an Invader, I've been faking it for a while," he admitted with a nervous grin. "Faking being strong, faking knowing I have a clue about what's going on. There's only one thing I've ever really wanted," he went on, his tone turning ever more solemn as he spoke.

"Yeah?" I wondered. "What's that?"

At first, I believed that Zim hesitated. A moment later, I realized he was pausing for effect. A small silence was finally broken with a single word:

"Acceptance."

You and me both... sorta, I realized, but did not say out loud.

"I thought I wanted acceptance from the Empire," said Zim. "Mainly from the Tallest. Lately, I'm seeing how out of reach that acceptance really is."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And, I mean... even though I am slipping, I just... dammit, I don't know what I want," he groaned. "I mean, I do want things to go back to normal, on one hand. I do. Things would be less complicated. Plus, it's how I'm supposed to be. If I stay like this, I'll lose, well... myself. I've already told you that. I've known that for a while. But staying here really doesn't seem like too bad an option." His grip on my hand tightened. "I'd have you. You'd keep me sane, right..?"

I choked on whatever words I was going to say, and fumbled out an, "I'd try."

Zim smiled, then looked away, as if searching another dimension, another place in time.

"You okay?" I wondered. Dumb question, Gaz.

"It's hard to say," Zim admitted. "Y'know, I wish I could just talk to Tak… see what she's truly up to."

"Wouldn't we all," I concurred, rolling my eyes.

At that moment, a girl walked toward our general direction. She was younger than me, and shorter, too. She looked studious, though, and her type are usually quick to catch up on a couple of slackers like us.

"Look busy," I whispered, grabbing a random book off of the nearest shelf and opening it quickly. Zim did the same.

The girl stopped, looked at a note scrawled on her left hand, then looked up. "Oh…" she fumed. "It figures it's on the top shelf." She tried reaching for the book she needed, but couldn't quite grab it.

I snickered a little at her expense. It was pretty funny.

"Um…" she said slowly, addressing the two of us. "Do you think… maybe… um… could I get some help?"

Sure could, I thought and almost said.

I glanced over at Zim, implying that I sure as hell wasn't going to help her, let alone anyone. Zim rolled his eyes, stood, and quickly removed the book from the top shelf. He sat back down and unemotionally gave the book to the girl. "Here," he said.

"Thanks," said the girl, blushing. Her eyes lit up. "Oh, wow, you're really hot!" she exclaimed. So much for the shy and silent type.

"You'll notice I have a girlfriend," Zim remarked plaintively. I cleared my throat.

"Oh, yes, well…" the girl stuttered. "I… I'm sorry. Thanks for your help!"

With that, she quickly hurried off.

"Humans are so annoying," Zim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"They don't think twice about speaking their thoughts, either, it seems," I added.

"Yeah," Zim agreed.

I looked down at the random book I'd grabbed and laughed. "Hey," I said to change the subject, "check this out. Isn't that gross?"

I turned the book (which was obviously a biology reference book of some sort) to face Zim. He folded his arms across the table and looked down at the open page. "What kind of human affliction is that?" he asked, reading the book skeptically. "That's just disgusting," he remarked, laughing.

"Yep, this world sure is a strange place," I said, putting the book away.

"Yeah…" said Zim. "Sure is."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, and then the conversation once again switched gears. "Anything else you want to talk about?" I asked Zim.

"Nah, not really," he answered. "Oh… do you think I could stop by tonight," he wondered, "so that the three of us can talk?"

"Sure," I said. "Come by around eight. That's usually when Dad leaves for work again."

"Thanks."

"Wanna tell me what's up?" I asked.

"Later," said Zim. "But it's important."

"Oh," I added quickly, "before I forget, um... Dib might be talking with you soon, one on one. Just thought I should warn you."

"And what a delight that's sure to be," Zim remarked, which actually made me laugh. He grinned, and leaned in to make us stand out even more as non-studious...

And that was when the bell rang.

"Damn," I cursed. Zim stole a quick kiss before pulling back. "Stupid bell. It makes me feel organized, running on a schedule like this."

We stood and walked together to the library doors. Before I could make a move down the stairs to my right, I felt Zim's hand on my shoulder.

"Gaz…" he said, keeping his voice low.

I turned.

"I just really wanted to thank you," Zim continued, grinning. "You have no idea how much you really are helping me through this."

"No problem," I told him sincerely.

Zim let out a sigh of relief (why relief, I don't know, but it wasn't one of his painful sighs), kissed the top of my head, then allowed himself to continue down the hall with the rest of the crowd. Then, I sighed… and mine was painful. I felt so sorry for him. That moment helped me realize yet again how very human he really had become.

Have you ever noticed how tightly packed school hallways are? It's pedestrian traffic at its worst; it's like watching cows ambling in line to the slaughterhouse. Thanks to that visual, watching dozens of meat-laden skeletons crowd the hallways, I finally came to that aforementioned realization. Because he was Irken, Zim always stood out in a crowd, but not anymore. He blended right in. He didn't even hint at the fact that he was Invader Zim, that he wasn't supposed to be human.

I continued thinking about this on my way down to the cafeteria. It was all Tak's fault, and I knew it, but I still couldn't help feeling as though I was partially to blame for loving him as much as I did. Even though Tak was a terribly disorganized liar, she'd done a great job on Zim; I'll grant her that.

He'd changed so much. He really was like a completely different person. Tak's plan, or what have you, was definitely emotion-based, and it seemed as though Zim had been subject to a tangle of them all at once.

I thought back to the night I'd cried. For almost eleven years, I hadn't cried once, and that's why it had lasted so long… because I let out ten and a half years worth of bottled emotions. I wondered, then, if that's what was happening to Zim. He'd lived quite a long life as an Irken, but I imagined that now, with his new human mindset, that looking back on all those years must really have been messing with his head. Plus, there was the missing part.

I didn't quite know what to think of Miyuki: why she mattered, what Zim really thought of her, and how (or even if) she played a part in all of this.

When I got to the cafeteria, the noise level was overwhelming, as always, so my brain went into screen saver mode: not thinking, but not doing nothing.

"Oh, my God, is it true?" I heard Zita ask, catching up with me. I'd almost forgotten about her.

"Huh?" I said, snapping back into reality (or whatever). "Is what true?"

"Are you and Zim actually going out?" Zita pried, full of anticipation.

"Where'd you hear that?" I wanted to know.

"Aki's little sister," grinned Zita. "She said she saw you two in the library, and that Zim totally admitted to it."

I wanted to smack her for using the word "totally" the way she did, but, for some weird reason, I didn't.

"So are you?" Zita had to know.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "Why's it so important?"

"I dunno; it's something to talk about, that's all."

"With whom?" I wondered. "It only involves us. Why should it be of any concern to you or anyone else? Is there really nothing else you possibly could talk about?"

Zita fell silent, then said, "It's just gossip, Gaz," she said. "It's nothing serious. I just like having the facts straight. I don't spread rumors."

"Uh-huh," I returned doubtfully.

"Okay, maybe once in a while," confessed Zita. "Oh! I bet you'd like this one…"

"Enlighten me," I said, sounding just as bored as I was.

"Tak says she's got her eye on your brother," said Zita, grinning.

If only Zita knew what Tak really meant. I kept my guard up anyway.

"In my opinion, someone like Tak would really be good for your brother," Zita went on. "Get that psychotic Gretchen off his back."

"That's a real problem, huh?" I asked. Crap! No, Gaz, no, I warned myself. Don't get into the rumors circle! Bad girl!

"The girl just can't take a hint," Zita laughed. Then, she smiled almost too sincerely at me. "Anyway, if you and Zim really are going out, and I'm not saying that I'll be letting anyone else know, I wanted to congratulate you for hooking up with him, and thank you, too. You should see the girls in our English class. God." She rolled her eyes. "Plus, he seems like a really nice guy. Nothing like he was back in fourth grade."

That's because he's human, I wanted to say.

"Thanks," came out instead.

The rest of the day went by quickly, which was a welcome surprise. When we got home, I made the sadistic choice to play Warped again, while Dib went back to the garage to work more on Tak's ship. I hadn't asked whether or not he'd talked to Zim, or to Tak for that matter. Oh, well. I could do my own damn investigating. I had to find out more about Miyuki. The game seemed the obvious answer. This time, still selecting the MiMi character, I started up a new one-player mission mode.

It opened simply with my character running through an abandoned alley, as though being chased. She turned, and a bright purple light washed over her, and the screen went to black.

"Non sum qualis eram," the female voice-over spoke while the image shifted once again. I stupidly wondered if Irkens knew Latin.

The next sequence of events leading into gameplay showed my character entering a library––huge one, too. There was an open book on a table closeby, to which she walked confidently. She leafed through the pages, then placed her index finger on the page to point out a certain word.

"Space-time," she read. "A four-dimensional way of describing events and locations with three units of distance and one of time. The whole or a portion of physical reality. Under the influence of gravity, space-time can actually warp or bend…" She flipped a few pages to another word.

"Time warp," she read. My eyes widened. "An anomaly, discontinuity, or suspension held to occur in the progress of time…"

She closed the book. "So the warp must be monitored by gravity," she said. "Then… reversing the effect should be easy, with dilation and relativity in effect, of course."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This could not be coincidental. Someone was trying to get a message to me. It had to be that.

My character left the library, and the voiceover spoke again. "If Earth is all that was set off balance," it said, "gravity can be controlled… slowed to pull the planet back into the proper sphere of space-time…"

Before I could go any further, someone behind me cleared his throat. I turned, and I think my heart skipped twice.

"DAD?" I stuttered. "What are you––"

"Do you have a job yet?" he asked me.

"Well… no, but…"

Dad shook his head. "Gaz, you need to get out of this house right now and find one," he ordered. "The next time I see you, you had better be employed, or you'll have to pay off your debt working at my laboratory in town; do I make myself clear?"

I groaned, and reluctantly turned off the game console. I did not want to work for my father. If I did, I'd have no time to myself and, therefore, no time to do anything about Tak. I scuffed my feet angrily as I walked to the door.

"I'm glad we have an understanding," Dad said. "I'll be leaving in three hours, and I won't be home until tomorrow. By then, you and your brother had better have jobs."

"Okay, Dad," I mumbled.

With that, I walked out.

"This sucks!" I shouted as I walked into town. In a rage, I slammed my fist into a stop sign as hard as I could. It must not have been very durable, because it fell to the ground on impact. I heard screeching, a loud crash, and sirens and car alarms blaring when I rounded the next corner.

I stood on the sidewalk leading into the shopping district. I didn't want to work with or around people, but in this town, I had no choice. I moaned and walked into the nearest store. It was the bookstore I'd visited earlier in the week. The lights were dim––good. They were playing real music (in this case, Collide)––very good.

I walked up to the service counter. "I need a job," I said plaintively.

"Well, we are hiring," said the man behind the desk. "What experience do you have?"

"I dunno," I shrugged. "I… read?"

"GOOD! Well, that's a step up from most of our current staff! Here," he said, pulling out a form and handing it to me. "Just fill this out and come back tomorrow. You can start then."

"O… kaaay…" I blinked. Was getting a job always this easy? "Uh… thanks," I forced myself to say. I folded up the form, put it in my skirt pocket, and started walking out.

At the door, I collided with someone. "Ow," I spat.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the woman apologized. "I––oh, hello, Gaz!"

I went red, I knew it. I recognized the woman right off once she'd said that. Zim's mother. It was still hard to believe she existed the way she did. "Hi…" I started. Oh, damn! Zim didn't have a surname now, did he? Even if he did, I didn't know it. Shit! I thought. "Uh… you…" I decided on. Great. That's boosting my chance at ever speaking to Zim again.

Luckily, she didn't pay it any mind. "How interesting," she smiled, "running into you here!"

"Yeah…" I agreed, kind of muttering.

"Well," Zim's mother lilted, "my husband is getting home from his business trip tonight! He's always so busy… I'll bet you feel the same about your father, don't you? Always working, that man…"

"You know my dad?" I blurt out.

"Oh, heavens, yes!" Zim's mother laughed. "What a silly question."

What the hell was going on?

"Well, I should be going," she went on. "I've got to grab myself a new recipe book and get back to my kitchen! What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I… uh… just got a job…"

"What a good girl!" she trilled, clapping her hands onto my shoulders in an annoying motherly fashion. "You're such a busy girl, and only fifteen! I'm sure your mother would be very proud!"

What kind of weird reality was this? Did everything change when Zim turned human? I mean, his mother was going on about my parents as though they'd been friends for years! What thehell was going on?

"It's a shame about your mother…" she said dulcetly, lowering her voice. "You know, you're starting to look just like her." She squeezed my shoulders. "Well, I've held you up too long," she said. "You must have things to do. Goodbye, now! Take care, dear!"

"Yeah, see ya," I said in return.

I walked out of the bookstore, my mind littered with questions of the most unusual sort. Before I could ask any, however, my watch beeped and started vibrating. I held my wrist up. I knew it was my brother calling me. I warned him mentally that it had better be important.

"What is it, Dib?" I asked.

"Where are you?"

"In town, getting a stupid job. Why?"

"I just thought you'd be home is all. Listen, I have some new information on Tak."

"You're sure it's accurate?"

"Pretty sure."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever we can find, I guess," I sighed.

"You seem stressed," Dib observed.

"Why wouldn't I be? I just ran into Zim's mom, and I think this whole thing is deeper than we may think."

"What makes you say that?"

"I'll tell you when I get home. It's really complicated."

"Well, get here as quickly as you can," urged Dib.

"Sure."

We ended the transmission, and I started to pick up my pace. It seemed that, the longer we stayed there, in the 'future,' the weirder things got. I prayed that was what Dib had dug up: information as to why that was.

When I got home, I concluded that my father, intelligent as he is, has a poor concept of time. I was gone for less than an hour. He said he'd be leaving in three hours. He was gone now. I don't know what goes on in his mind, and I don't think I'll ever want to. Either way, Dib and I were alone.

"You," I said to my brother plainly, walking into his room otherwise unannounced, "explain things."

Dib spun around in his computer chair to face me. "Sorry," he said, "but I guess I don't have as much information as I thought."

"Well, what do you have?" I asked, sprawling out on his bed. Wait… why the… fuck did I do that? Lie on my brother's bed? Who knows what kind of paranormal pesticides he'd sprayed that thing down with?

"Not much," Dib apologized. "Just that Tak has a long history of lying––it's gotten her in a lot of trouble before––and that she designed MiMi herself."

"Huh," I remarked. "That MiMi thing is really weird, you know. Tak must be good at creating complex things and nothing else."

"Yeah," Dib agreed. "Like that lava pump she construed last time. And a lot of the controls on her ship."

"Her ship?"

"I seriously think that's part of her aim this time," he speculated. I checked his eyes. The light was dim, and I saw no red. I told myself it had to have been the light before. "She gets attached to her creations."

"Mmm," I said. "Hey, Dib," I went on, sitting up. "What's up with Zim's mom, anyway? How'd Tak do that? Genetic engineering?"

"Probably, I guess. Why do you bring that up?"

"Well, why would Tak go through all the trouble to create a normal human environment for Zim to live in? Why not just turn him human and leave him here?"

"Good question," commented Dib. "Yeah, that is weird."

"What's weirder is that I ran into his mother a few minutes ago, and she spoke to me as though she'd known me for years," I told Dib. "Oh, and to add to the weirdness factor, she mentioned Mom."

Dib's expression changed gravely. "Mom?" he asked, his low voice trembling. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I assured him. "She said 'it's a shame about your mother,' or something like that. Freaked me out."

"Why would a woman who isn't supposed to exist mention our mother?" Dib wondered out loud. "And, at that, seem to have knowledge of her disappearance?"

I shrugged. "Beats the shit outta me."

Dib made no comment. Taking in my brother's changing expression, my mind went numb, and I suddenly felt the need to say something, though I was unsure of what could possibly help. Dib read this from me, too, and reacted by sighing and turning away, back to his notes. This, I realize, is an action that could use some reiteration to explain its reason:

Though he normally acts like it's no big deal, Dib, just like I do, secretly longs for a more normal, if even mediocre, life. We've gotten used to Dad's strangeness, with how infrequently he decides to be home, with the parts of his lab that we are never, ever allowed into, but both of us can still vaguely remember when Dad was more open. When he acted like a father, and made time for us, and showed his face. The media had stolen him from us. Mom had disappeared suddenly, and Dad had been slowly disappearing ever since. A long time ago, he'd taken and hidden—or possibly destroyed—all evidence of Mom ever having been in our house. All the photos were gone, most of her possessions were gone, everything that could have reminded us of her was just... gone. Dib and I had only managed to hold on to one item of hers each: we'd each hidden a book. Mine was a poetry book from the mid-1900s, and Dib's was an even older book of world folklore, which was stashed away on one of his shelves.

Dib doesn't admit it, but he and Mom were, as I have said, very close. I remember how happy she made him. I can't remember specifics, such as what we as a family ever talked about, or did... I vaguely remember a couple of trips, and have hazy memories of our parents' friends, who would stop in for dinner or babysit us. My parents used to be an average, young, loving couple. Then there was some disaster (I only know it wasn't a fight), and Mom left. When it became clear that she wasn't coming back, Dib was heartbroken, and immediately started resenting her, and forgetting her. Dad had sold her piano before she'd been gone a month, and after that, I don't think I heard music coming from my brother's room once. Mentioning Mom takes a lot out of him, and I'm pretty sure he knows as well as I do that we both resemble her in some way, and that has something to do with why Dad goes out of his way to avoid us at times.

At least we had each other. That week especially, I realized that. We both pretended not to care, each in our own way, but the reality was there: we were siblings, and we were damn lucky that we had one another around. We knew when and why to stay out of each other's way, but luckily, now was a time that maybe we could stop being distant, and start closing the gap between us. Living out a few days as teenagers was kind of a wake-up call to both of us on the family issue. We both wanted to know the truth behind everything. For now, though, that could wait. For now, we just had to focus on getting back to the reality we had.

"So is that all you dug up?" I asked finally.

"Pretty much. It's what I got from Tak's ship, anyway."

"Oh." A thought suddenly hit me. "Hey, Dib," I said, "I think someone's trying to help us."

Dib looked unconvinced. "How so?"

"That game. Warped."

"Ugh, I hate that thing!" he groaned. "I don't get video games at all, and I really don't get why you'd keep playing it after what happened yesterday."

"Just come downstairs with me."

Dib rolled his eyes and stood.

I walked faster than usual down the stairs and into the living room. It suddenly occured to me that Dib really was acting differently. Normally, he'd have jumped up and investigated the problem, reporting it to his fellow Swolen Eyeball agents. Now, he just seemed like the mature older brother fed up with his little sister's obsession with video games. He was acting really mature lately... almost too much. Irkens or the time warp, I was not going to lose him. So I'd have to keep him occupied with paranormal findings as much as I could. Hooray.

Shoving the thought quickly out of my mind, I started up the game console and started over on Warped.

"Just listen," I instructed my brother. The intro started to play. I listened to it more intently this time… as did my brother, oddly enough. "See?" I said once the intro stopped.

"Well, yeah, but you could've told me it was her."

"Huh?" I wondered. "Her?"

"You know," said Dib. "That Miyuki. The one on your computer. It's her."

"Huh?"

"Didn't you notice?" asked Dib. "The voice-over. Play it again."

I did.

"How did I miss that?" I wondered aloud. "That is her voice! Now I'm confused."

"Me, too," Dib admitted. "But, you first."

"First, Zim says she's dead. Then, she's in my computer. Now, she's trying to help me through this game."

"I wouldn't say she's trying to help you, though," said Dib. "Even though it sort of does tie in to everything..."

"Hmmm…" I thought about it for a second. "You... don't suppose it's just Tak, do you? Pitching her voice and trying to trick us?"

"Could be, but Miyuki has no accent," Dib pointed out. "And Tak's got a pretty distinguishable accent."

"This sucks!" I complained, my hands flying to my head. "Nothing makes sense! Everything Tak says is a lie, Zim can't help us since he's like a completely different person, and this Miyuki thing just makes it all worse!"

At that moment, our door was flung open, announcing Zim's arrival.

"I DO NOT WANT TO LIVE!" he screamed, full of rage.

"You gots teen angst!" GIR squealed, popping up from behind Zim and perching on his shoulder. Zim stormed into the house and slammed the door behind him.

"Um… it… isn't eight o'clock yet," I told him.

Zim folded his arms. "Who cares?" he said angrily, not looking at me.

"Jeez, Zim," I groaned, "what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing!" he snapped. "I'm fine!"

"ANGST!" screamed GIR. "ANGST! Angst like a piggy! LIKE A PIGGY!"

"Shut up!" Zim barked, grabbing GIR and holding the robot out in front of him. "I do not have 'teen angst!'"

"Is what your mom said!" GIR protested.

"Well, my mom's a liar," Zim hissed.

"Wow," my brother remarked. "When'd you start acting like yourself again?"

"What are you talking about?" demanded Zim.

"He's right y'know," I said, realizing that what observed was, again, true. Even though I loved the moments I had alone with Zim, when he'd get kind, and intimate, I couldn't say I didn't like his swings back into his old crazed personality. They were promising to our time warp problem, anyway, even if they meant possibly losing our private talks all together. "You're acting the way you used to when you were––"

"I'm just really, really… REALLY… pissed off!" Zim shouted, dropping GIR.

"Exactly," Dib coughed.

"And why are you so pissed off?" I had to ask.

"My… dad!" Zim cried, clenching his fists so tightly his arms trembled.

"Your dad?" Dib repeated.

"What's wrong with him?" I asked.

"My father," Zim began, gripping the back of the recliner, trying to suppress his rage, "is a strict, pompous asshole who isn't in favor of modern technology; he's the worst human on the face of the Earth, and… I… HATE HIM!"

Zim spun around and punched a fist into the wall. Bits of the plaster flew off when he did so. "I hate him…" He punched with his other fist, and continued alternating as he spoke. "I hate my mother… I hate my house… I hate my responsibilities… I hate the high school… I hate being a teenager… and I hate… being… HUMAN! I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT!"

He stepped away from the wall and leaned over the back of the recliner, burying his head in his hands. "It wouldn't be so bad if Tak hadn't… rrrgh! Why'd she have to give me parents?"

"No… angst more like a iguana," GIR decided.

"Shut up, GIR," Zim muttered.

"So is that what you wanted to talk to us about?" I asked Zim. "Your parents?"

"No… that's why I'm here early, though," he explained, his head still buried in his hands against the recliner.

"So, what, exactly did you want to talk to us about?" asked Dib, walking over and taking a seat on the sofa. I came to the conclusion that the two had not spoken alone yet. What was Dib even waiting for? Some huge screw-up on Zim's part so he could tell him right out to leave me alone? Oh, shit. Probably.

Zim lifted his head. "I'm forgetting things," he said straightforwardly. "You witnessed it just this afternoon," Zim told me. "In the library. Up until you said the word 'Irken,' I…" Zim gulped and cast his gaze downward. "I had no clue as to what one was."

"How is that even possible?" Dib stuttered. "You are Irken!"

"Was," Zim corrected. "And that's the problem. I've been getting into this state of mind lately where I just… accept that I'm human. That I think I've always been human." Zim shivered when he said that. "These… personality jumps are getting more and more frequent. I usually snap back when something pisses me off."

"Like your parents?" I offered.

Zim's left eye twitched. "Like my parents," he snarled, agreeing with me. He shook his head and stepped around to the other side of the recliner. "Now, maybe you don't believe me," he said, "or maybe you don't care. Either way, I… I need your help." He sighed, then looked at us almost pleadingly. "I promise," he began, forcing that word out, "I'll do whatever I can to repay you, if only you help me with this."

He was making an involuntary personality switch again, and I sensed that, deep down, he knew it. However, this was Zim at his most desperate, so I knew that all sides of his personality were serious, and that he meant everything he was saying.

"Look," Zim continued, "I… I've been a human for almost a week now. Every day, I become more comfortable with this human body, and I've come to accept it as my own. I can't even remember how to use that… um… that… ugh, I don't even know the name of it anymore? Um… I think it was a pretty easy word, too… how could I––"

"Your PAK?" I offered.

"That's it, right." Zim held his head. "See? Pathetic. So that's why I'm asking you to, please… restore me to the way I was." He fixed his gaze on me. "I'm really sorry, Gaz, I––"

"No, I understand," I said, shrugging. "I'll help you. I already said I would."

"GAZ!" Dib snapped.

"What? I know how he feels. We're not supposed to be like this, either… or have you forgotten?"

Dib groaned. "Okay, sure," he gave in. "Whatever. I guess we're back where we started."

"You gots the angsties, too!" GIR proclaimed, pointing a finger right in Dib's face.

"Get lost, you stupid little robot," Dib ordered.

"Ooooookaaaaaaay!" GIR agreed. He then bolted off in one direction, and started tearing about the house. "I'm gettin' lost!"

Dib looked uneasy. "Wait," he called out. "Get back here." GIR was instantly at his feet. "Roll over." GIR did. "Go do the dishes." GIR zoomed off into the kitchen, and I heard the splashing of water and clattering of dishes.

"GIR!" Zim shouted at the top of his lungs, forcing the little robot back into the living room. "What the hell?"

"Yeah, seriously!" Dib chimed in.

"Why're you taking orders from him?" Zim demanded.

"My question exactly!" my brother added.

"It's cuz you tall, like a Tallest!" GIR announced, putting up a hand to measure height. "An' it was fun!"

"So it was just to annoy me?"

"YOUR HEAD NOT SO BIG NO MORE!" GIR cried as though it were the greatest discovery ever.

"Do you ever shut up about my head?" Dib shouted, standing quickly and looming over GIR.

"Now you gots head angst!" screamed GIR.

"GOD DAMN YOU!"

"This'll take a while," I observed, rolling my eyes.

"Yeah," Zim agreed. "Hey, can we step outside for a sec? Just you and me?"

"Uh… sure."

So, out we went. "Won't talking to me like this make you more human?" I wondered.

"I don't know," said Zim. "Actually, I was just wondering if you'd ask me a few things; to see how much I remember. Sure, you probably don't know much of that stuff, but it'd be helpful if you'd try."

"I'll do what I can, I guess," I shrugged.

Zim smiled. "Thanks, Gaz," he said.

"Mm," I returned. I tried to think of things I'd overheard about Zim's race, from him, Tak, and my obsessive brother. "Got one," I said, rather proud of myself. "Okay, uh, what was the name of your ship?"

"The model? A Voot Runner," Zim answered. "Hah! Good. Still remember that."

"'Kay… uh… MiMi. What is she?"

"A ca––ah… SIR unit," said Zim.

"What's that stand for?" I asked. I didn't know the answer, but I hoped that he did.

"SIR stands for…" Zim started, "um… Service… no… Standard..? Oh… shit… I don't know. Dammit. Try another one."

"What sets your leaders apart from everyone else?" I asked quickly.

"Authority?" Zim guessed.

I shook my head.

"Lineage? No? Uh… presence? Wait… something about appearance… um… height!"

"That about does it for what I know," I confessed.

"More than me," Zim muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing."

I shrugged it off, telling myself to corner him into a more us-focused conversation later, and said, "Hey… wanna go see if any sanity has been restored inside?"

"Sure, why not?"

I opened the door to the house, and the first thing I heard was:

"GET OFFA MY LEG!"

"NYAA-HEEE-HEE-HEEE!"

Dib and GIR, it seemed, were engaged in quite the struggle: Dib on the floor with his back pressed against the coffee table (which, at some point in this bizarre tussle, had been flipped on its side), while trying to pry GIR off of his right leg to no avail. GIR, meanwhile, seemed to have developed a penchant for my brother's leg, as he was gnawing on it happily now.

Natural impulse: laugh. You can rest assured that I did. Laughter had never felt so good.

"GIR!" Zim barked, clenching his hands into fists at his sides. "What do you think you're doing?"

GIR stopped biting Dib's leg and hugged it tightly. "YOUR FRIEND TASTE LIKE A JELLYBEAN!" he cried as happily and obnoxiously loud as he possibly could. "AND PEANUT! AND AAA-VOOO-CAAA-DOOO!"

"Avocado" was said in a strange, throaty voice, and, upon saying it, GIR started to chew on Dib's leg once more.

"HEY!" Dib screamed. "QUIT IT! W-WHAT–– THAT'S MY LEG!"

"GIR!" Zim shouted again.

GIR made a monkey-like screech.

"GIR!" Zim tried yet again.

"NYAH!" GIR screeched.

"GIR!"

"NYAH!"

"GIR!"

"I gonna tackle you!" GIR cried suddenly, lunging at Zim and latching onto his face.

"GET OFF!" roared Zim, tugging at GIR.

Meanwhile, Dib pulled off his trench coat and examined his leg.

"FRANKS AND BEANS!" screamed GIR.

"What is wrong with you?" Zim hollered, stumbling into the center of the room. He finally pried GIR off of his face and glared at the robot angrily. GIR laughed and jumped up on top of Zim's head. "Get down, GIR!" Zim ordered.

GIR just kept on laughing. Without warning, he grabbed two fistfuls of Zim's hair and yanked.

Zim let out an earsplitting cry of pain and fell to his knees. "YAAAH! GIR!" he screamed. "GET OFF! You have NO IDEA how much that HURTS!"

"I gotta get a camera!" I laughed, starting to walk toward the stairs.

"GOTCHA!" I heard Dib yell.

I turned around. Dib had caught GIR with his trench coat and was pinning him to the ground with a weird, evil grin on his face.

Zim moaned and lay back on the floor, rubbing his head in pain. GIR started squirming inside Dib's trench coat, and eventually burst out of it, squealing with glee.

"YOU HORRIBLE ROBOT!" Dib yelled, aghast. "You ripped the damn thing! Trench coats aren't cheap!"

"STOP YELLING!" shouted Zim. "Gah… my head!"

"You're one to talk!" spat Dib.

"Yeah, I am! Now shut up!"

Unexpectedly, GIR rammed into my back–– really hard. The shock made me lose my footing so that I tripped and fell… right on top of Zim.

"OW!" we both spat involuntarily.

"Heh…" I said, my cheeks flushing red. "This is… kinda… awkward…"

"GAZ!" Dib hollered. "What do you think you're––"

"It's not my fault!"

"Would you stop shouting?" Zim ordered.

I propped myself up onto my hands and knees.

"It's still awkward, Gaz," groaned Zim, wincing and rubbing his head in pain. Even so, we both smirked a little.

"LEGMEAT!" GIR whined, latching onto Dib's leg once more.

"Hey!" cried Dib.

"You needs leg-lovin'!"

"No! I don't! Get off!"

The door opened at that very moment, and Dad walked in. "Kids, I can't seem to find my––" he began.

All activity ceased. We were all too shocked to move. I could see Dad's fury rising.

He frowned. "I don't think I want to know…" he muttered, then walked out again.

We all heaved sighs of relief. Dib went back to trying to pry GIR off of his leg again. Zim and I looked at each other and we both went red.

"I guess I'll––"

"ZIM!"

Okay, Dad's appearance was unexpected but understandable. Just plain freaky, however…

We all turned, or looked up, respectively, to look in the general direction of the speaker.

"What the––" Zim stammered. "Mom? What're you––"

Zim's mother merely glared at him and me crossly, her arms folded and her teeth grinding together. Zim quickly pushed me off and GIR ran to hide behind me. Zim stood nervously, stumbling a little. "I can explain!" he tried, looking awfully scared.

"Good," said his mother. "Save it for when we get home!"

Zim gulped. I couldn't believe it… he was actually scared of her. Not in the way that one would be downright frightened of something or someone, but in the way that all kids and teenagers are unjustifyably afraid of their parents and their authority.

"I can not believe you, Zim!" his mother went on. "You sneak out of the house upon your father's arrival… and this is what I find you doing?"

"It's not what you think!" Zim tried.

"How can I trust you?" his mother snapped. "Honestly, Zim! What do you take me for?"

Zim shrank back, trying to avoid too much confrontation.

"And as for you, you little seductress," Zim's mother barked at me, "you ought to be ashamed!"

"Look, Mrs. … uh…" Crap, not again. "It's nothing!" I covered. "I just tripped!"

"Excuses will get you nowhere in a hurry, Gaz," Zim's mother scolded.

"But––"

"I don't buy it!"

I scowled.

"Mom, listen, I––" Zim began.

"I've heard and seen enough," said his mother. "Just wait until your father hears about this! Oh, he's not going to be pleased…"

"I didn't do anything wrong!" Zim protested.

"You're out of line, Zim, I'm sick of your excuses!" said his mother, dismissing that statement. "You are coming home this instant!"

Without warning, she grabbed him by the hair and glared at him.

"OW!" Zim cried.

"Do I make myself clear enough for you?" his mother hissed.

"Yes! Ow! Seriously, Mom, let go! That–– ow!"

She let go, and Zim started rubbing his head again. I noticed that the corners of his eyes were starting to form tears, mostly of pain and anger. Still, I could also see his hate gathering and building. However, this wasn't the spite that was second nature to Irkens. Oh, no. This was, as GIR had so rightly put it, pure teen angst.

"Good," said Zim's mother. "Now, you get out of this house and into that car, young man! We have a lot to discuss, and now you go and add this on top of it! I hope that you realize––"

"For God's sake, Mother, leave me alone!" Zim hollered, unable to take it anymore. It was then that I truly realized what he meant when he said he'd been experiencing personality jumps. At that moment, it seemed, Invader Zim was gone. "I'm sixteen years old, Mom; I can make my own decisions! I know what's right for me and what isn't! You and Dad just can't accept that! And you know what? Just because you got knocked up as a teenager doesn't mean that Gaz is going to make the same mistakes, so stop being such a tight-ass!"

Zim slapped a hand over his mouth. His mother obviously thought that it was because he'd called her a "tight-ass," but I knew that the real reason was another shift in personality. He was back to normal, and he couldn't believe what he'd just said… in such an average human way, at that.

"Get in the car, Zim," his mother demanded coldly. "Now."

Zim hung his head, then looked about ready to say something; he obviously changed his mind, then stormed out. His mother followed without saying another word. She slammed the door behind her.

GIR immediately started crying.

"Huh… wow," Dib remarked.

"What?" I wanted to know.

"I get it now," said my brother.

"Get what?" I tried again.

"Why Tak gave him parents," Dib told me. "She did it so they'd keep him in line… so they'd treat him as any parent would treat their son. It's their fault he's having these personality jumps. Without parents, he'd still live by his own rules… he'd still act Irken. But since he does have parents, he's below someone… he's just like any other human teenager. Hey, I bet that's why she made him a teenager, anyway. Teen angst versus Irken nature… he can't tell the difference."

"Huh…" I said. I did not mention that I knew the real reason for Zim's outward human age. "You're right. …Again."

GIR started bawling.

"What's your problem?" I snapped at him.

"I dunno!" wailed GIR.

"Come on! It's annoying. Quit it," I ordered.

"But––" sniffed GIR, "but––"

"But what?"

"I dunno!" GIR wailed again. "My master's actin' all different!" he whimpered. "No more doom or nothin'! He keeps forgett'n an' actin' all not-Irken-like, and I ain't had a burrito in a really long time, and… and… I MISS ZIM!"

GIR started pounding the floor with his fists while he cried.

Dib and I exchanged glances. With GIR acting so strange all the time, I had no idea whether he was actually sad or not.

Then, a thought hit me. Either he was sad or he wasn't. Two choices, black and white. There was no grey area. No other option, no other outcome. And that's the way it was with everything.

"Where are you going?" Dib asked. I'd hardly even realized that I'd started walking toward the stairs. It was as if my body was moving my mind without my mind telling it to, because I was preoccupied with my new philosophical Venn-Diagram-like thoughts.

"To my room," I answered blankly. "To think."

The next thing I knew, I was in my room. Seconds later, I was lying on my bed with my shoes off. I felt like I was in one of those time-lapse videos: seconds during which nothing important happened removed, making my movements look stiff and mechanical, showing only the scenes in which I did something mildly productive.

Once I was lying down, I could think more clearly about what I was doing–– I was in control again. The more I thought about it, the more the past week seemed to be little more than a succession of jumbled 'either-or' statements.

Either GIR was sad or he wasn't. Either we were trapped here or we weren't. Either Zim was beyond hope of turning Irken again or he wasn't. Either Miyuki was dead or she wasn't. Either Tak knew what she was doing or she didn't. And, most importantly…

…Either Tak was evil or she wasn't. If Tak's 'plan' really was based on emotion, as we'd been assuming, then it was obvious that the predominant emotion behind it all was not love, but simple, utter confusion. If she wasn't evil, then she was definitely confused. We all were.

It was the lies.

It had to be. Tak did nothing but lie, and lies are the product of confusion and can also instill more confusion. What's left at the end of it all is the buried truth. Either that or chaos.

Great, I thought. Add another 'either-or' to the list.

For the longest time, then, I lay on my bed doing absolutely nothing but what comes involuntarily. I didn't even think. It sounds absurd, but I somehow pulled it off.

When my subconscious finally sprung to life again, my first thought was to find anything that could fill the grey area of the aforementioned situations. That didn't work. After that failed attempt, only really stupid thoughts came to mind. Thoughts such as: "What if this is all just a dream?" or, "What if there was no time-warp and five years really have gone by?"

Stupid, Gaz, I told myself. Really stupid.

To clear my head of most of my stupid thoughts, I reflected again on Zim's philosophy of nothing never happening. I wondered how sincerely he believed in that, and decided that he must, to have talked about it so fervently. There was then the issue of his personality, and the jumps between moods he'd been making. I'd seen him crazier than Dad, borderline homicidal, sweet and loving, and about as normal as one could possibly get. Zim had never seemed so multifaceted. There were so many different parts of him that I found myself yearning to understand. Deep down, I was getting more and more selfish. He'd expressed both wants: staying human, or returning to normal as an Irken. I wrapped my mind around the first idea. I wanted him to stay.

My heart started beating faster and faster. I didn't want our little conversations to end. I did not know how things would change once life got back to basically normal. I couldn't think of him as an Irken. I just wanted him to stay. I wanted something to cling to. I wanted something besides Mom's dusty old book of poetry to love and call mine.

Lighten up, Gaz; I scolded myself, you're acting like a little kid.

My eyes snapped open as wide as my sockets would allow. "That's IT!" I cried, sitting up. I switched gears completely, and shifted to sit with my legs over the edge of my bed. In my excitement, I started thinking out loud to myself, sometimes incoherently. (If there's one thing that Dib and I have in common, it's that we have a tendency to talk to ourselves… though I do so less frequently.)

"That's it," I repeated aloud to myself, most likely grinning like an idiot. "That's how we get back!"

I sat there talking to myself for God knows how long, chattering on to myself the way most girls do among friends. Night fell just as I put all of my thoughts in order, so I tossed off my clothes and jewelry, threw on my pajamas, and bolted out of my room exclaiming, "I did it, I did it, I did it, I did it!"

I rushed down the stairs and found Dib on the couch, where I knew he would be (only he was, for some reason, watching the news instead of Mysterious Mysteries). He stood when he saw me, and I almost tackled him with a running hug.

"I did it!" I cried happily, laughing in spite of myself. "I did it, I did it, I did it!"

"Did what?" Dib wanted to know, prying himself away from me. "And why are you so… happy?" he added, giving me an odd look.

"I figured it out!

"Figured what out?"

"How to get back!"

"WHAT?"

"I figured out how to get back!" I repeated stupidly.

"No, no, I heard you," Dib stuttered, his eyes wide in amazement, "but I just… I… are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Well? What is it?" asked Dib, overly excited. "How do we get back?"

"Okay, it might sound a little weird," I admitted, "so bear with me."

Dib laughed. "Gaz, this is me you're talking to," he said. "Nothing's gonna sound too weird."

"Heh… yeah, true," I agreed. It was good to see him more like himself, even if he was handling things much more rationally than usual. I took a deep breath. "All right," I said, "here's what I think: We're teenagers, right?"

"Right."

"WRONG!"

"Huh?"

"Ha!"

"WHAT?"

"Dib, we're not teenagers!" I said again. "We keep trying to fit in and all, but we shouldn't! It's us that's keeping us here, not Tak! If this whole thing is emotional, then it all comes from the subconscious! If we just act the way we normally do, getting out of this fix will be so much easier!"

Dib blinked. "So…" he said after a brief pause, "what… are you saying?"

"Dib, you're eleven years old and a paranormal freak! I haven't once seen you doing any of your… whatever it is you do… this past week! Concentrate on who you are and not who you will be or who everyone else thinks you are. I mean, look at you! Why aren't you watching Mysterious Mysteries right now?"

"Wow… you're… right," said my brother. "You're absoloutely right."

"Of course I am," I smirked.

"But we can't get back on our own," he continued. "We just have to prove to Tak that we're capable of it."

"Oh, yeah, true."

"Cuz it can't be all subconscious, can it?"

"Yeah, I guess not."

So, as far as being right goes, the score for that night was me: one, Dib: five million. Gah. Brothers.

The rest of the night wasn't very productive. At all. I wish I could say we got right down to working everything out, but with us, it's just not like that. I did fill out that form for the bookstore, though, despite it almost being counter-productive. That was about it.

– – –

The next morning, I woke up feeling that it was to be a pretty good day. I've never felt that before, so it kinda freaked me out. Nonetheless, it was another welcome feeling. Even the shower, my old enemy, decided to be nice to me for once.

As Dib and I tediously sat down at breakfast, he suggested that we walk to school.

"Are you insane?" I reprimanded. Trick question. "We'll never get there unless we leave now. Why can't you just drive us? It's, like, eighty blocks away!"

"Did you just say 'like?'"

"Shut up. Anyway, why should we walk?"

"For two reasons," Dib explained. "First, you yourself said that we need to lay off the teenager stuff. I'd assume that pertains to an 11-year-old driving."

"Crap," I realized. "So, what's reason number two?"

"Walking will, hopefully, counter the… uh… what I had to do this morning," he said nervously.

"That being?"

"Never mind. Let's just go."

"No. Tell me."

"I'm leaving."

Dib stood, grabbed his bag and walked to the door. I stuffed my half-burnt toast into my mouth and grudgingly followed suit. I stayed a safe distance behind my brother, chewed the toast, molded it in my mouth, took aim, and spat the wad at the back of my brother's head.

"GAH!" he shouted, cringing and stopping abruptly. The toastball worked its way down the back of Dib's trench coat. He quickly tossed his backpack to the side and yanked the trench coat off, feeling the back of his head with a disgusted look on his face.

I burst out laughing, giving myself ten points for perfect aim.

"Gaz!" Dib spat angrily, shaking out his trench coat to rid it of the toast. "Come on, that's not funny! It's sick!"

The toast wad plopped out and I laughed even harder. Dib growled, wiped the back of his head again, slung his bag over one shoulder and continued walking, now carrying the trench coat.

When I caught up, he remarked, "You have a really sick and twisted sense of humor."

I snorted, doing my best to cease my laughter.

Dib rolled his eyes. "Well, I see you're up to your old tricks again," he sighed.

"Oh, come on," I said, slapping my brother on the shoulder. "It was pretty funny."

"In context, I guess…" he admitted, grinning. "So, let's see… so far this week, I've been pelted with watermelon seeds…" ––I snickered–– "toast… a muffin, and an old sock."

"A muffin and an old sock?" I wondered.

"Oh, yeah, you weren't there for those," said Dib. "But, if you must know, GIR pelted me with a muffin when he showed up during English on Tuesday, trying to haul Zim out of class… and the sock…" Dib shuddered. "I'd rather not talk about the sock."

"You know how much I can hurt you," I reminded him darkly.

"Okay, right, the sock," Dib gave in. "Just… um… basically… never walk past the locker rooms after the weight training class gets out."

"Gross!" I laughed, my eyes widening.

"Now that that's settled, let's––"

"Nice try, Dib," I cut in, smirking. "But you still haven't told me what happened to you this morning."

"I'd really prefer not to, Gaz," he said. "It's embarrassing."

"Oh, come on," I scoffed. "It really can't be that bad. Um… can it?"

Dib sighed, stopped (we were at an intersection anyway), and turned to look at me. "Look at my face," he instructed. "There. Self-explanatory."

"What?" I asked, noticing the adhesive medical strip covering the skin near his right jaw bone. "That?"

"Yeah."

We crossed while the traffic was stopped.

"So? What?" I wondered. "So you cut yourself. Big deal."

"It's how I cut myself," Dib explained, "that I'm uneasy about."

"How is it self-explanatory, then?" I pried. "I honestly don't get it."

Dib went incredibly red. "Jeez! I cut myself shaving, okay?" he said quickly, firmly, and uneasily. "There. Enough said. Happy?"

"Oh," I responded meekly, backing off a bit. "I didn't realize… sorry."

"Whatever. It's fine. Let's just drop it, okay?"

"Right."

The real kid in me wanted to keep him going… either taunt him or scold him, but I held back. But I suppose it couldn't be helped. Dib just did what he had to do. Still… it was kinda weird for me to think about. But, being the kind and wonderful sister that I am (six point lie…), I did as he asked and dropped the subject, without further questions.

As we walked on, I did venture to ask one nagging question: "Hey, Dib?"

"Huh?"

"Did you ever, y'know, talk to Zim?"

Dib walked on in silence for a few paces, then admitted, "No."

"Why not?"

"Should we really have this conversation?" Dib wondered. "I mean, based on our new 'don't get sucked in' approach..?"

"Don't avoid this," I hissed. "I deserve to know at least why you didn't talk to him."

My brother sighed, and squinted in the sun. "All right, fine," he gave in. "I was going to. Yesterday. I was more than ready to. I planned to catch him at lunch, but Tak cornered him first. I hid off to the side and tried to pick up bits of their conversation. Tak basically sounded pissed off; Zim sounded apologetic. All I could pick up on was Zim saying something to the effect of, 'Well, you'd better not go after her again. If you have a problem, take it out on me.' I assume 'her' meant you. I couldn't figure out what to do after that, so I left it alone."

"But Dib—"

"I'm trying to come to my own conclusions about it first," he said quickly. "I'm obviously not okay with how, uh... fond of you he is, but I can't say I don't owe him for helping out." I did not press the issue further, and Dib fell silent.

After a few minutes, I started to pick up on moving energy (thank you, weird sixth sense). I blinked and turned my head, sensing somebody behind me. I gasped a little and turned completely around, looking down.

MiMi.

I stared at her, and she narrowed her glowing red eyes and glared back, then darted off. I stood frozen for a minute, but Dib snapped me back.

"Hey!" he called. "Gaz, what're you doing? Come on, we'll be late."

"R-Right…" I said, turning to go. I ran to catch up with my brother, looking over my shoulder briefly. There she was again! That… MiMi! I shook my head, telling myself I'd worry about it later, and slowed my pace, once again walking right next to my brother.

"What was that all about?" he wanted to know. "You just… stopped."

"I thought I saw something," I lied, grinning. "Sorry."

Dib shrugged. "I think I see things all the time," he said, mostly to himself. "Someday, people will believe me…"

"Sure they will," I replied, which was my usual automatic response.

Wait, I started thinking. Sure they will! If the Invasion continues, they'll have to!

Ugh… somebody shoot me. Every Goddamn day, I wake up wondering how much longer this whole thing, the Invasion, I mean, will go on. Aaaargh!

You know, this isn't helping. I can't get all depressed while I write. My damn brother says I have to write all this down. It's cruical, he says. Oh, well. I suppose I'm "getting to the good part," as it were.

– – –

Well, Mr. Saunders, art teacher from hell, was in rare form during first period. Apparently, "Romanticism is FUN!" I wanted to stab him with one of those chisels or whatever he had in the back of the room. There's only so much I can take.

When he asked us to express ourselves in some free-draw thing, I drew, for the second time in high school, a pig hanging himself. Saunders went off on some tangent about how it symbolized the dream to end conspicuous consumption, or something like that. I said I had to go to the bathroom and stayed there for the remaining twenty minutes of class. The best thing was, nobody noticed. People can be good like that sometimes.

We had a substitute in Physics. All we did was watch a movie… I don't remember what it was about. I was too busy picking at a hangnail until I bled. I made the girl next to me faint when I started making splotchy paintings with the blood in my notebook.

An ambulance was called and everything. It was awesome. Plus, by the time it came, the blood had dried, so I was innocent. I was on a roll.

We had a substitute in Spanish that day, too: a man who knew less of the language than any of us in the class did. Most of my classmates spent their time flicking rubber bands at each other. I, on the other hand, found a Latin dictionary tucked away in the bookshelf at the back of the room (why it was there, I won't even question), and looked up what "Non sum qualis eram," the phrase spoken at the intro to Warped, meant.

Turns out, it translates as: "I am not who I used to be."

"No kidding," I muttered. "Hmmm… Tak must be behind that game… either her or Miyuki."

Aaargh! I thought. No! Not another stupid 'either-or' thing!

After my success in that, I was hit in the ear with a rubber band. I slapped a hand over that ear, growled, and turned in the direction from which it had come, glaring at the five kids sitting right there. "Which one of you immature bastards threw that?" I demanded.

Four of the suspects quickly moved away, leaving alone someone who I vaguely recognized, from Mr. Elliot's class, as Hanzhi. I narrowed my eyes. She was one of the few from my class, as far as I could remember, who actually hated instead of feared me.

"You," I snarled. "Bitch. You're going to die."

Unfortunately, just as I was standing, the bell rang. Hanzhi hurried out of the room at an inhuman pace. I'd find her. I knew it. I'd find her and kill her.

Anyway.

During lunch period, I got a little nervous, because Dib didn't show up. I did not eat lunch that day for three reasons: I was too nervous, I was not hungry, and I had forgotten to bring money.

During Advanced Algebra, somebody projectile vomited onto the teacher's computer, so that was another wasted 75-minute period. I only accomplished stealing a compass, figuring it might come in handy (the pointed end, I mean).

American History was a 75-minute lecture about human rights and humanity in general. Thank God Zim isn't in this class, I thought to myself, rolling my eyes.

I noticed, for the first time, that the bitch Hanzhi was in that class. When she left class briefly to get a bottle of water, I shoved the compass into her bag with the sharp tip poking out where it would definitely scratch up her back. Sure enough, as we all left class, I heard her emit a cry of pain. I'd forgotten how great I was at getting revenge. I only hoped I could do something even worse to Tak.

Thus ended the fastest-moving school day of my life. Before I knew it, I was outside on the front steps, waiting for my brother. When he did come out, he was laughing. (I noticed, also, that he was not wearing his trench coat. Toast and saliva reign supreme.)

"What's up with you?" I asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not the only one with girl troubles anymore," Dib said, grinning with delight.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Just wait for it…"

A couple moments later, Zim burst out of one of the front doors, slammed it shut, pressed his back against it, and put all of his strength into keeping it shut. "Dib, you moron!" he spat, glaring at him. "Dirty, stupid liar! You brought this upon me, so by God, you'd better get over here and help me out!"

The other door started to open. Zim yelped and turned around, now keeping both doors closed; one with his left hand, one with his right. "Help me, you son of a bitch!" he barked.

"No can do, Zim!" Dib laughed. "I'm not as strong as you!"

"Bullshit!" Zim shouted. The doors started to give, so he pushed against them even harder. "Ow! God! My right arm is going to fall off!"

Dib just laughed harder.

"Goddammit, Dib, I'm serious!" yelled Zim. "I can't keep this up! Damn you! Why are you such an asshole?"

"Dib, what did you do?" I wanted to know.

Dib grinned and shrugged. "I told the girls in class that he was single."

After a beat, I said, "You jerk."

"So help me, God, Dib, I am going to beat you senseless if you don't come help me RIGHT NOW!"

"If you survive," Dib taunted.

"Bastard!" Zim spat. "Oh, man… my arm..!"

"If it's as bad as it seems to be," I said to Dib, "I'm going to beat you senseless, too."

"It'll be worth it!" he grinned. "I feel like I haven't laughed at Zim's expense in a long time!"

"Damn freak," I muttered.

"Damn it!" Zim cringed, glancing at the bandage on his right arm. "I… can't… do this..! I'LL KILL YOU, DIB!"

He reluctantly stepped away from the doors, which immediately burst open. Dib wasn't kidding. Every girl in the junior class (save Tak, Zita and Gretchen), and others of varying ages, were packed in behind the doors. I'm serious.

Zim wiped some sweat from his forehead, tossed his bag aside, and backed further away, a look of horror on his face. "Keep your distance, you stupid girls!" he shouted. "DIB LIED!"

"So what if he did?" one of the girls called out. "I'm just here to enjoy the view!"

Zim went red, looking infuriated. "He was lying! Back off!"

"I say you're the one who's lying!" another girl said.

"Aww, how modest!"

"Makes him even cuter!"

"Come on, Zim, just one date! I'll do anything!"

"How about you shut up and leave me alone?" he bellowed.

"Oh, my God, I love the sound of his voice!"

"No kidding!"

I had to intervene. "Hey," I shot, stepping between Zim and the harem of psychotic girls. "He said, 'back off!'"

"Gaz?" one of the girls yelped. "Wh-what do you think you're doing?"

"Proving Zim's point," I replied. "Go away."

"Wait… you mean… you're..?"

I cast a look over at Zim, who gulped, then strode up to me and put his hands on my shoulders. "Gaz is my girlfriend," he said firmly. "Now leave me alone."

"I don't believe you!"

"I need proof!"

"Immature little brats!" Zim muttered. He turned to face me. "I'm sorry if this embarrasses you," he said to me quietly.

He then leaned down a few inches, brushed a bit of hair behind my left ear, and kissed me softly. A dejected groan rose up from the crowd, and, by the time Zim pulled away, they had all dispersed.

Zim let out a sigh of relief, fixed my hair a little again, and kept his eyes on mine. My heart skipped, and I found myself wishing again that he could just stay human, no questions asked. Then, suddenly, his expression changed as he asked, "I just did that in front of your brother, didn't I?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, realizing the problem at the same time.

"Shit."

As if on cue, Dib strode up to us, seperating me and Zim. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.

"I was just––" Zim tried.

"Don't play coy with me, Zim! That's twice now you've done that!"

"Done what?"

"Kissed my sister!" Dib shouted, his anger rising. I almost corrected him, but realized that would not have helped the situation at all. "And this time, you did so openly!"

"You brought it upon yourself!" Zim shot back. "Don't you dare say you had nothing to do with it!"

"So maybe I said a few things, but I never gave you permission to kiss my sister!"

"Dib, for God's sake, listen to yourself! Don't you care about how Gaz feels?

"Of course I do! She's my little sister! But you..! I can't trust you! You're not human!"

"Well, could you at least pretend that I am?"

That shut Dib up. Surprisingly enough, it shut Zim himself up, too. The two glared at each other for a moment, then, suddenly, Zim burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" my brother demanded.

"Oh, nothing," Zim replied, still laughing. "It's just… our fights never go anywhere! They start off fine, but end up pointless! I don't know if it's the lack of sleep or the amount of caffeine I've been putting into me or what… but can't you see the humor in that?"

"Well," Dib gave in, "we have fought over some pretty trivial things before, but we're talking about my sister, here."

"Oh, lighten up, Dib."

"All right, fine," he said. "I… guess I can let this one slide…"

"Besides," Zim reminded him, "I did save your life."

I snickered.

"Oh, shut up," Dib groaned. "I just don't want you going completely human on us. I want to get back to normal pretty soon."

"Speaking of being human," I said, "I think your dagger wound opened up, Zim. You're bleeding!"

"I'm what? Huh?" Zim lifted his right shirt sleeve and cringed. There were fresh blood stains on the bandage. "Oh, crap, now it's gonna start to sting again…"

He cupped his left hand over the laceration, and exhaled in a hiss through clenched teeth. "Just when it was starting to heal, too…" he groaned. "Why'd I go and exert so much force?"

Zim fell to his knees, quickly tossing aside his backpack, then started unraveling the bandage. "Man, Mom's gonna kill me for ruining the stupid thing…" he muttered, "and Dad's just gonna yell at me anyway… damn! I need an excuse…"

Before he could lapse further, or experience a flash, I ripped off a strip from my skirt (which was kinda long anyway), then pulled a water bottle out of my backpack and soaked the cloth. "Bear with me, Dib," I said to my brother. Gathering the cloth strip into a little ball, I sat down next to Zim. "Move your hand," I instructed. He did so, and I gently put the cool, wet cloth up against the open wound. Zim winced. "Sorry," I said. "You okay?"

"Fine, fine," he said, inhaling and exhaling harshly. "That's a big help, really. Thank you."

Dib looked on in disbelief.

Zim ran his left hand through his hair (something which he seemed to be doing a lot during times of stress lately) and let out a sigh. "Thank God I didn't use my full strength," he said. "I might have made it even worse…"

"Stop stressing or you will make it worse," I grumbled, washing the blood off of Zim's flawlessly pale skin as best I could. "There," I said, smiling. "I've cleaned it up. Want me to wrap the bandage around the scar again?"

"You could get the extra bandage out of my bag," Zim said, "but I think I'd rather apply it myself."

"Sure," I shrugged. "Here, hold this cloth in place."

Zim put his left hand gingerly over the wet cloth and the laceration underneath, and I turned around to grab his backpack.

"Ugh," I complained. "This is heavier than a normal school bag. What do you keep in here?"

I unzipped the bag, and, of all things, GIR popped out, flung his hands up in the air and squealed, "I am the prize inside!" I cried out in alarm and scrambled backwards. "I can see your underwear!" GIR exclaimed happily. I yelped and shifted my position quickly.

"GIR!" Zim barked. "What are you doing in there?"

"I dunno…" the little robot mused.

"Well, get out. I need to rewrap my arm."

The top of GIR's head slid open; he reached in and pulled out a rolled-up adhesive bandage. Zim grimaced and took it from GIR. "I'm not going to ask why… not questioning a thing…" he said, wrapping the bandage around the deep cut on his upper right arm.

He fastened the clasp into place, sighed and stood, flinging his backpack over his left shoulder. "You… gonna be okay?" I asked.

"Fine, fine," Zim replied. He looked over his shoulder and glared at GIR. "Gotta start putting a leash on him, though." GIR stuck his tongue out and gave the thumbs-up. Zim groaned. "Do you have your disguise with you?"

"NUH-UH!" GIR announced cheerfully, throwing his arms up in the air again.

Zim rolled his eyes. "Then get back in the bag," he ordered.

"I don't wanna!"

Angrily, Zim grabbed GIR and held the robot out in front of him. "Do as I say, GIR!" he shot at him.

"You're not fun no more!" whimpered GIR, practically screaming.

"I'm human, GIR!" Zim snapped. GIR sniffed and started crying. Zim's eyes got soft; he knealt down and set GIR in front of him. "Do you understand, GIR?" he asked. "As long as I'm human, you can't follow me around like this."

"How come?"

"Because it… I don't know… it's not… uh…"

"MY MASTER HATES ME!" GIR bawled, quickly rushing over and clinging to my leg.

"Hey!" I shouted.

Zim slapped a hand to his forehead. "Dammit, GIR, I don't hate you," he said, trying to calm himself down. "It's just… I don't know what else to do. I'm trying, alright? I-I'll be Irken again soon, and everything will go back to normal."

"Nuh-uh!" whimpered GIR. "Cause-a her!"

"What?" I yelped. "You filthy robot! Don't you go dragging me into––"

"I hate to admit it, but the walking pile of scrap metal is right."

We all turned to see Tak standing in the doorway. "It doesn't matter what you do," she continued. "Your stupid feelings for her will turn you human. Indefinitely."

"I really didn't want to get into an argument like this… with you… today," Zim snarled, standing to face Tak.

"Of course not," snorted Tak. "You don't care about fighting anymore."

"You wanna bet?" Zim snarled, cracking his knuckles.

"You've got some determination, I'll give you that," said Tak, "but where will that be once all your memories are gone?"

"What nonsense are you spouting now, Tak?" Zim demanded of her.

"You didn't really think they'd stay with you?" Tak laughed. "That shard of Irken memories within you is your only hope right now, but soon it'll shatter, and you'll be left with nothing."

"Okay, Tak, this is getting stupid," said Dib, pulling a syringe out of the front pocket of his bag. He quickly pinned Tak against the wall and stuck the needle deep into her neck. "There."

"Ow!" Tak spat. "What the hell was that?"

"Truth serum," Dib smirked, twirling the syringe around in one hand before throwing it back into his bag. "I'd meant to use it on you," he admitted, turning to look at Zim, "but when we talked, I realized I wouldn't need it." Oh, so they did talk..?

"Thanks for trusting me so much, jackass," Zim groaned. Dib shrugged and turned back to the real problem at hand. Tak's face contorted into an awful sneer, and she stared my brother down.

"What makes you think it'll work on me, human?" Tak snarled.

"Good question. Now let me ask you one. What's your name?"

"Tak," she answered skeptically.

"Your SIR unit's name?"

"MiMi."

"And where do you keep the blueprints for your base?"

"In MiMi's memory disc." Tak slapped a hand over her mouth.

Dib grinned, and Zim and I exchanged glances.

"Right," said Dib, "now we're getting somewhere. Now, Tak. Zim keeps forgetting certain bits and pieces of Irken information." Tak's eyes lit up, but I could not read into why. "Every day, it gets worse. Is this your doing?"

"Yes." Well, fuck. But still, hooray? I mean, we were right about that one, anyway. At least this was something Tak could control.

"Is it Tallest Miyuki's, as well?"

"How much do you know about Tallest Miyuki?" Tak shrieked, glaring hatefully at Zim. All Tak had said to us about her was that she was dead. For all she knew, Zim had gone on and on about her. Of course, Miyuki wasn't someone Zim readily remembered, so could that have had her in a frenzy, too?

"Enough," Dib answered calmly. "But that isn't my question right now. Does she have anything to do with Zim's lapsing memory?"

"I don't know."

"So… how long will Zim be able to retain his memories of his life as an Irken?"

Tak muttered something into her hand. Dib pulled her hand away and said, "Sorry, I didn't catch that."

"F-Five-thirty tomorrow," Tak replied, obviously wanting to lie, "as far as I can tell. Exactly one week after he first became human. Damn you!"

"How do I retain them before they're lost?" Zim demanded.

"Th-the Transmutation Device," answered Tak, struggling. "I just have to reverse the coordinates, and you'll get your Irken body back."

"Fight you for it!" Zim tried.

"You just want to hit something," I corrected blankly. Zim shrugged.

"You wretched scum!" Tak screamed at Zim. Dib had to hold her back against the wall to keep her from attacking. "You three have no idea how deep this runs, do you? You have no idea what good I'm doing!"

"Oh, for God's sake," Dib growled. "Seriously, Tak. Convince me you're doing good. I dare you."

"I was under the impression that I had done this poor, pathetic person a favor," Tak said, with a grin that could shatter glass. "Look at him. He forgets by the day, you say? Perfect. Let him live a shadow of a lie, in blissful ignorance. Let him wander this world unnoticed and unknowing! I would rather see him wiped clean off the Irken map for good than have to deal with him the way he's been these past several years!"

"Oh?" my brother prompted. "What do you mean by that? How he's been?"

"Yes!" Tak shouted, still struggling to hold her tongue. "Look at him, dammit! Look at that pathetic excuse for an Invader, miserable excuse for an Irken!" Tak shoved Dib off of her, but Dib was quick to catch her and hold her hands behind her back so she couldn't go anywhere. "You used to be different!" Tak screamed at Zim. Looking up at him, I saw his clear brown eyes widen in shock. I took in the entirety of his expression: whereas earlier in the week, his face would twist and contort in ways that would still make him appear to be slightly Irken, his reactions now were much more subdued, much more human. My heart started to race. He had found unplanned comfort in his new skin. Ever since Tak had drawn blood, he'd been getting—well, I guess I could say 'worse.' 'Less Irken.' The race ended abruptly; instead, my heart sank. I'd been led along with it. For that moment, I began to doubt myself; I began to wonder if my involvement with Zim had been one of Tak's plots to 'erase' him the entire time. He said that I reminded him of Miyuki. Perhaps Tak saw it, too, and used it. Hell, she could have programmed everything into the machine in the first place: everything Zim would experience. His PAK was still melting away inside him, wasn't it? Until it fully dissolved, or whatever, he would still be affected by it.

"Hey, I still have questions for you!" Dib spat at Tak.

"Wait," said Zim, almost too calmly. He held up a hand to accompany that word, and took a step toward Tak, away from me. "Different how?" Tak simply frowned up at him. She grit her teeth, managing to avoid answering. My brother held her steady, avoiding any instances of attack. Zim squared his shoulders and approached further. "Different HOW?" he demanded, his strong, pale hands clenching into fists.

"For one thing," Tak growled, "you were never quite this stupid. This annoyingly persistent. You had strength. You had determination." A wicked sneer crossed her awkwardly pretty face, and she added, "You were an inspiration."

"Somehow I doubt that," Zim said, folding his arms, "but okay. If you say so. Then what happened to me?"

Tak growled and tried to avoid the question, but Dib kneed her in the ribs and yelled, "Answer the question!"

After catching her breath from the sudden shock, Tak snapped her head up to glare at Zim again. Once she had caught his attention, she forced out, "You killed the Tallest, that's what happened! What do you think? That destroyed you, and you were never the same! You cut yourself away from everything that made you the way you had been, and you began your decline. You became such a fucking idiot—I can't stand dealing with you like that! You fucking imbicile! This is all you deserve! You brought this upon yourself!"

"Shut up!" Zim shouted. "I'm starting to doubt that the serum is still working. Either way, shut the fuck up and tell me what I can do to get back before I lose everything!"

Tak finally broke free of Dib's grasp, and used her rekindled mobility to grab Zim's shirt and haul him down to her level. I held my breath and took a few protective steps forward, but held myself back from going any further. I wanted answers just as much as anyone did. It was especially scary now that I'd begun to wonder whether or not my feelings were genuine. "My base," she leered. "Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock. Fight me there, and if you win, I'll reverse all of... this." On the last word, she shoved him back, but Zim easily caught his balance. After giving her words some thought, he slowly turned around to look at me. In his eyes, I saw longing, and an apology with no words. "And if you win," Tak added, casting a horrible—and dare I say slightly jealous?—glare at me, "I'll even extend your time another twenty-four hours so you can be with your precious little princess!"

"Whadda ya mean, 'precious little…' wait. Y-You would?" Zim wondered. I had to watch his reaction then. I had to see what I could of his hard-to-determine thought process. He seemed positively elated. There was life in his eyes.

I felt wonderful and terrible all at once. One or both of us was going to be hurt, I just knew it. Another day with him would be wonderful, of course, but I knew that it would only make me want him around even more. Maybe that was Tak's reasoning behind it at all.

"I'm telling the truth, aren't I?" Tak snarled. "But it's tomorrow or nothing."

"We have school tomorrow…" I said.

"GIR and I will see to it that we don't," Zim told me. He looked down at GIR. "Wanna have some fun and rewire the circuitry of the entire town, GIR?"

GIR happily gave the thumbs-up.

"You all make me sick," Tak groaned. "Tomorrow, then?"

"This is so easy…" Dib laughed to himself.

"Ten A.M. tomorrow," said Tak. "But, I'm only fighting you," she added, pointing a finger at Zim. "Your friends will stay out of the battle, or not only will you lose, you'll all die. Got that?"

We all nodded. Tak snorted and evanesced.

"YES!" Zim cried out. "Not only am I gonna kick her ass and set everything back to normal, but I get another day as a human!"

"You're… happy about that?" Dib wondered.

We'd gathered our things and started walking away from the school at that point. GIR, the conniving little jerk that he is, made me carry him.

"'Course I am," Zim answered my brother. "I've gotta enjoy it while it lasts. I mean, when else am I ever gonna be this tall, this strong, this…" he looked over at me and went red, "this happy to be alive?"

Dib said nothing; he looked pretty conflicted, though.

"So," I asked, changing the subject, "she probably means for us… you…" I corrected, looking at Zim, "to go to her base, right?"

"I'd imagine," Dib replied.

"God dammit!" I spat. "I hate that place! I hate it so much! She got creative with the jail, but… argh! She pisses me off!"

"First of all," said my brother, "we have to go there; it's where her machines are." I groaned. "And secondly, she's got a new base. Her old one isn't there anymore."

"And, survey says… we have no clue where it is," Zim said, "am I right?"

"Ah… didn't take that into consideration," Dib realized.

"Could you find it?" I asked GIR. "Can't you… I don't know… get a lock on MiMi or something and track her down?"

"I like cheese…" GIR answered, rolling around in my arms.

"Okay, that does it," I snarled, dropping the little robot. "I give up. Screw you, you little––"

"Hey, quit it," Zim interrupted. GIR rocketed up and perched on Zim's bag. "I'm sure we can think of something. Right, GIR?"

"Cheese fondue!" cried GIR, throwing his arms up in the air.

"Uh…" said Zim, rasing an eyebrow. "Yeah… I'm sure we can figure it out. Wait… why are you guys going? She only wants to fight me."

"Actually, yeah…" Dib agreed, turning to look at me. "Why are we going?"

"We've gotta make sure she sticks to her word," I reminded him. "This concerns us, too, Dib. We've gotta be positive she does something to reverse the time warp. Um… don't we?"

Dib scowled. "You just want to make sure you're there because he will be," he reprimanded.

"S-So what?" I shot back, blushing.

"God, Dib," Zim cut in, "does it really bother you that much?"

"Hold on…" I added, "didn't you say…"

"Yeah, yeah," Dib said. "I just don't understand, that's all. I just don't understand how you two could…" He stopped and whipped around. "We may be on good terms now," he yelled at Zim, "but in a couple of days, we'll be enemies again! Remember that, if nothing else!"

Zim was taken aback, but then his eyes narrowed. "Shut up!" he shouted. "You know, you're actually doing a great job reminding me why I hated humans so much!"

"Good!" Dib retorted. "Now just stay away from her!"

"DIB!" I cried, grabbing him by the arm. "Stop it!"

"Gaz––"

"You're being way too protective!" I said harshly.

"It's for your own good!"

"No, Dib. It's crazy." A thought hit me. "You're jealous, aren't you?"

"What?" he spat. "Why would I be?"

"It didn't work for you and Tak," I said, "so you find it unfair that Zim..."

"You and Tak?" Zim laughed. "Wait… you did have a thing for her, didn't you?"

"I… well…" Dib tried to cover. "Ugh, all right! Okay! So I'm a little jealous." The red in his eyes started to come out. "Why couldn't she have been the one to go human? Then I––" He slapped a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened back to complete brown, and he backed away. "I… I didn't mean that!"

My eyes widened. This was not good. I knew the red in his eyes would affect him somehow. I just didn't want to be ready for it.

"L-Let's go," he suggested. "Sorry, Gaz. Zim," he continued, a little angrily, "I… guess I'm sorry. "You're not Irken… you're right. I'll… just… treat you like a human until you go back."

Zim's eyes widened. "Thanks," he said in shock.

"Now let's forget this ever happened and go," Dib said. We've got a lot to prepare for."

Dib started walking away; Zim and I exchanged glances and followed at a slower pace.

With Dib distracted by his own thoughts, and while he stared straight ahead, Zim took the opportunity to take my hand as we walked. I accepted it, even squeezed it tightly. One thing I had discovered I wanted was stability. Stability and security. I had one family member I could count on, and one single friend. One friend who was about to leave my life forever, assuming turning Irken again meant completely erasing his new human mindset. I didn't want to jeapordize either relationship, but I didn't want either to be erased. I said none of this, and Zim stayed quiet as well, but we held onto each other. We'd promised to help each other out. We'd hold onto each other as long as we could. That much, at least, was one truth I could count on.

– – –

That night, long after we'd parted, I resolved to talk, once again, to my brother. I took a deep breath and walked into the garage, where he was preoccupied, still working on the Spittle Runner. I laughed to myself. With most guys, it's cars. With my brother, it's an alien spaceship. I cleared my throat. "Dib?" I said.

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you?"

He slid out from underneath the Spittle Runner. "It's about Tak, isn't it?" he asked. I nodded. "Thought so." He went back to work.

"Come on, Dib!"

"What's there to say?" he grumbled. "I messed up. I had a little crush on her last year, and I snapped today. I don't know what came over me, and I said I was sorry, which, I hope you know, I am. Pass me my glasses, would you?"

"Come out and get them yourself!"

Dib moaned and once again slid out from underneath the ship. He grabbed a towel and wiped off his hands, then leaned back against a toolbench. "What happened?" he sighed. "How did we all slip so far?" I saw tears in his eyes. "Can I ask you something, Gaz?"

"Sure, I guess."

"How can you… why do you love him?"

I was silent for a moment, then said, "I don't know. It seems as though it just sort of happened, but… I guess it's mostly… why do you want to know this?"

"Just seeing if it's what I saw in Tak," Dib told me. "Seing if it's an Irken thing."

"I doubt it," I replied with a slight laugh. "What I like about Zim is his personality. He's really nice to me."

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yeah. Plus, he listens when I have something to say, and well… I don't know… he's just so…"

"Different?" Dib offered with a grin.

I laughed. Dib took his glasses off of a nearby shelf and slid them on. He then walked over and, without warning, hugged me. "Gaz…" he said, "don't think I'm completely heartless. I realize I've been really protective, but… I just don't want you to get hurt."

I felt my eyes water. "Thanks, Dib," I said. Then, I lost it and cried into my brother's shoulder. "Oh, God, Dib, I'm sorry! But… he's going to be gone in two days!"

"I won't be," Dib consoled me, his low voice sounding kind and welcome, and more sincere than ever. "I'm your brother, Gaz. Don't just assume that I don't care. I know I can't fill certain voids… I wouldn't want to… but, just know that I'm here for you, too. Now, and in the future."

"Thanks," I said again. I dried my eyes and stepped back, but had to stay to ask: "So, you talked to him?"

"I did," Dib confirmed, going about buffering out a spot on the side of the Runner, probably so he could avoid eye contact with me during this conversation.

"And..?"

Dib sighed. "No," he said, "you were right, he's not all that bad. It just makes me nervous, because usually, yeah, he is. And he couldn't give me a straight answer, either... he just told me he loved you." My heart skipped. "It was kinda hard for me to digest, I'll admit. I asked him how he knew, and he apologized for not being able to come up with particular reasons. He said it seemed to come together on its own, and he was glad that it had. I don't know. This is weird for me to be talking about. But, yes, I talked to him, yes, I agree he's a tolerable person now, but yes, I'm still going to be on my guard, because, yes, he is going to change again."

"Hypothetically," I ventured, "if he were actually human..?"

My brother hesitated, then said, "Then I'd probably be okay with him dating you. But he isn't human."

"Right, right." Still, that much was nice to hear.

I went to bed that night feeling as though a tremendous weight had been lifted off my shoulders. That didn't change the fact that Zim and I would be parted soon, though, and it scared me. I'm not a very religious girl, but that night, I actually prayed that Tak would really extend Zim's time as a human, hoping that he was wishing the same thing.

– – –

I was awakened the next morning by my father shouting "DAMN!" over and over again. I forced myself to get up and go down into his lab.

"Dad, you're being really loud," I griped.

"You don't understand, Gaz!" he said frantically. "The power is out all over the city, and I can't seem to fix it!" I raised an eyebrow. "Why," he continued, "it seems as though something or someone has rewired the circuitry into some strange pattern!" His hands flew to his head. "I'll have to go down to the main lab… but still, this will take hours to fix! Damn, damn, DAMN!"

"You just keep swearing, Dad," I said unemotionally, turning to go. "I'm gonna go get ready for school."

"Oh, the schools are closed down," Dad told me. "The lights and computers are out of operation."

"Woo-hoo!" I cried spontaneously. I for some reason, gave my father a hug, then dashed upstairs. "Dib!" I shouted, rushing into his room, where he was only half-dressed.

"Ack! Hey! Gaz, what're you doing?" he yelped, quickly pulling a shirt on.

"Sorry," I said, then grinned. "Zim and GIR did it!"I announced. "The power's out! Let's go watch him kick Tak's ass!"

"What time is it?"

"I don't know, but we don't know where Tak's base is, so…"

"I get it, I get it," said Dib, laughing a little. "Go get ready, and we'll go to Zim's base––ah, house––and try to get a lock on Tak."

"Okay." I washed and dressed in record time, and my brother and I were soon off. When we made it to Zim's house, I took a good look at the exterior, since it would soon be Invader Zim's base once again. I wondered for a selfish miute what it would be like if life were indeed to continue on the way the warp had set it. About how I'd go about days at school, work at night, and spend weekends here. With my boyfriend. Fuck, fuck, fuck—I just had to go and write that.

When I knocked on the door, Dib remarked, "A little eager, are you?"

I blushed and shrugged. After a moment, Zim's mother opened the door. "Oh, hello," she greeted with a broad smile. "How are you two?"

"Fine," Dib and I answered simultaneously.

"All right, see you later, Mom," said Zim, walking up behind her.

"Hold it," she said, grabbing him by the collar. "You still haven't told me where you're going."

"I'm taking Gaz out for breakfast," he lied, prying his mother's hand off.

"I'm just here cuz my dad's lab is nearby," Dib added, "and I'm gonna help him out today."

"Well, don't let me hold you up," Zim's mother smiled.

"See ya," said Zim. "Come on, GIR." GIR tore out of the house in his dog suit.

"God damn, your mom's gullible," I noted when we were a safe distance from the house.

"I told you," Zim smirked. He stretched. "Ah… I'm ready for this fight," he said. "GIR managed to track MiMi; Tak's not too far off."

"Great," I remarked; "and it's almost ten, too."

"So, how intact are your memories?" Dib asked.

Zim shrugged. "I can't tell," he answered. "I mean, I know I'm forgetting things, but I don't know just what, once it's gone."

"Irken history," I prompted.

"Couldn't tell you a damn thing."

"How to operate Irken crafts?" Dib tried.

"You're kidding, right?"

"Irken anatomy?" I pressed.

"Alright, look," said Zim. "The only Irken I can even picture in my mind is Tak." He ran his right hand through his hair nervously. "The leaders… whoever they are, I don't know… I can't even begin to place, and as for me…" He laughed. "I don't even remember what I looked like!" he said. "I remember stuff I did, but, for the life of me, I can't picture myself as an Irken." He shuddered. "I actually don't really want to." He paused, then slapped himself across the face. "No," he muttered to himself, "don't think like that. That's why I'm fighting today: so I will remember. So that I'll… go back…"

"You okay?" I asked.

"I'll be fine," Zim assured me. "I'm mainly fighting this for you," he added. "You know that, right? So you can have your own life back..?"

I nodded, then, hesitantly, clasped his hand in mine. Zim turned to look at me and smiled, causing me to blush. I felt a sting in my chest. I missed him already.

After a few minutes of walking in silence, Dib asked, "How much farther, GIR?"

"THAT ONE!" GIR announced, pointing to a nearby building.

We all stopped and stared at Tak's new base. It was smaller than her old one, but––if it was at all possible––it stood out more. It seemed as if she'd gotten a little lazy with the design, as it looked more like Zim's base had, with awful wires and windows placed in architecturally nightmarish patterns.

Zim heaved a sigh. "Well," he said, "this is it." I hugged him tightly, and he returned the gesture.

"Good luck," I told him, not wanting to let go.

"I'll do my best," he replied. Then, without giving a thought to the fact that my cautious brother was looking on, Zim kissed me gently, over the place on my jaw that had long since healed after the fight we'd had on the roof. "One for good luck?" he asked in a whisper. Speechless, I nodded, memorizing his eyes. Zim showed a sad but winning smile, then tilted my chin up and kissed me almost desperately. When he pulled back, there was a sad determination in his expression.

"Zim…" said Dib when we'd parted.

"Yeah?" Zim wondered, ready for anything Dib was about to complain about.

"Um… yeah, good luck," my brother forced himself to say. I had to congratulate him, silently, for not freaking out. "Also… I owe you one. For saving my life."

Zim smirked. "I'll try to remember that."

The door swung open; Zim braced himself and walked into Tak's base. Dib, GIR and I follwed.

Okay, Tak must have been using a cloaking device or something, because the inside of her base was enormous. The outside looked oogie (probably to repel passersby), but the inside looked like a cross between an Irken laboratory and a dojo… and it was awesome. I wished I'd brought a camera for a second, but then remembered that the photos would be nonexistant when we went back home.

Zim cleared his throat and hollered, "I'm here, Tak! Come on out! Show yourself!"

A hole opened up in the floor, and Tak ascended into the room on an elevator-dias. "And here I thought you'd be late," she said, flickering into hologram. "Shall we, then?"

Zim cracked his knuckles. "My pleasure," he said darkly.

"You three had better not interfere," Tak warned me, Dib and GIR. "You know the consequence."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you'll kill us," Dib said, shrugging it off. He folded his arms and leaned against the wall. "Hurry it up, will you?"

Tak said, "Hmf," and turned back to Zim. "I dare you to bring me to my knees," she sneered.

"That should be easy," Zim shot back, crouching into a ready position. "Are we gonna do this, or what?"

"That's an interesting stance," Tak remarked. "What's wrong? Forgot your Irken battle training?"

"Don't go using confusion as a weapon, Tak!" Zim barked. "Besides, I think the techniques I've learned as a human should work just fine!"

With that, he lunged at Tak, and executed a number of frontal attacks, all of which Tak managed to block. "Is that the best you've got?" she snarled.

"No… I'm just getting started!" Zim yelled at her, kicking her square in the face, sending her sprawling backwards. He then grabbed her by one arm, flipped her over his head, and kicked her into the wall, leaving an indent. He walked over and pinned her to the wall with his right hand, keeping it clenched firmly around her thin neck. "Had enough yet?" he asked her.

"I've got a higher resistance than you, human!" Tak spat. "I'm just getting started, too!"

Tak pried Zim's hand off, propelled herself away from the wall, then swung Zim around and into the wall. She exposed her PAK and extended the spider legs, positioning them. She aimed a blast at Zim, but he quickly ducked and did a low kick, tripping Tak.

Zim picked Tak up and punched her hard, in the manner that one would serve a volleyball. He took a couple of deep breaths. "How about now?" he panted while keeping an angered tone.

Tak just laughed and picked herself up. "Not even close," she answered. "You're already getting tired, though, aren't you? You're sweating."

"I can't help that!" Zim shouted. "Humans sweat!"

Tak kept laughing. "They're no match for an Irken, either!" she boasted. "Now do you see what I've reduced you to?"

"Reduced me to?" Zim shouted, once again attacking her. "Maybe you should re-word that!" he yelled at her as he struck. "I'm stronger than I could ever have hoped to be… I'm nearly twice the size of the average Irken… how can you say you've reduced me to something when you've actually made me this strong?"

"Wake the hell up, human!" yelled Tak, backhanding Zim. He shook his head and stumbled back in shock. "Strength… hah!" Tak spat, kicking her heel hard into Zim's side. "Delusions of grandeur for someone so low!"

Zim grabbed her foot and threw her into the floor. "Try telling me that didn't hurt!" he shouted.

Tak jumped back up. "Okay, so it's about pain, now, is it?" she asked rhetorically. "Fine."

She punched Zim on his upper right arm… right on the bandaged laceration.

Zim cried out and clutched the wound tightly with his left hand, taking several steps back. The gash obvioulsy had opened up again, I could tell, because blood slowly started to trickle down his arm and between his fingers.

"And the blood begins to flow!" Tak laughed shrilly.

I wanted to intervene in the worst way. Not being able to fight, I settled on screaming at the top of my lungs, "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" Dib quickly restrained me.

Tak ignored me, as she had several times before.

"Now do you see what I'm talking about, Zim?" she continued. "No matter how 'strong' you may be, your body is easily scarred, easily harmed… frail, weak, so easy to destroy!"

Zim glared at her, full of a spiteful rage. In his eyes, I saw, once again, the spark lit by the Irken he had been, and still was, very deep down inside. "You can't destroy me," he snarled. His tone was dark, and I was reminded of the lead-in to our own fight, when he'd snapped and shoved me repeatedly into the wall.

"What makes you think I can't?" Tak snorted.

"You're too weak," Zim panted, his knees buckling a little as his arm continued to bleed. He caught himself and continued, glaring at her despite the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "All you do is talk," he went on, growling a bit as he spoke, making his deep voice sound rather ominous. "You claim to be so powerful… but all you are is a liar, Tak. You're insecure. You claim that my body is weak, and maybe it is. Maybe I could be crushed at any second… but not by you. If you're so powerful, Tak… destroy me. I want to see you do it. Go ahead. Right now, end it all. I know you can't do it."

"Shut up!" Tak barked. "Shut up, you stupid human!"

"Human," Zim said flatly, his breaths still a bit shaky. His tone had returned to his calmer, more even one. The tone of voice, the voice alone, I'd come to love. He picked himself up a little, staggering as he did so, obviously becoming more drained of energy with every drop of blood that fell. "I can remember once using that word the way you do now. I remember saying it as though it were the most degrading, insulting thing to ever be said to a person. I remember hating the word, never wanting it to be used to describe me." He lifted his head, and glared at Tak with his piercing brown eyes. "But now that it does," he went on, "I feel stronger than ever before."

"You don't know what you're talking about!" Tak snapped at him, circling him forebodingly. "I've downsized you! When are you going to realize that?"

"Maybe that's the stubbornness in me," Zim replied, unwavering, "but I don't think I'll ever see things the way you do, Tak. Now are you gonna destroy me or what?"

"Will you stop that?" Tak shrieked. "Damn you for being so persistant!" She walked straight up to Zim and, though she had to look up a couple inches, stared right into his eyes. "You're a fucking human, and I fucking hate you!" she growled. "You ruined my life, you've spoiled my plans, and nothing I do in return even seems to faze you! You frustrate me! I hate you, Zim! I fucking hate you!"

Zim managed to stay calm the whole time, and, to Tak's chagrin, he actually smirked at her comment. "I hope I was never as Goddamn stupid as you," he said flatly.

Tak slapped Zim across the face and backhanded him on the return. "Stop it!" she screamed. "Stop saying these things! You're supposed to hate this! We're supposed to be even! I did this to you so I would ruin your life!"

Zim lifted his hand off of the cut, wincing a little as he did so, and clenched both hands into fists at his sides, straightening to full height. "Well, then," he said in an incredibly dark tone, "I suppose you've failed."

"SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!" screamed Tak. "Just fight me! Fight me like the opponent I know you can be!"

Zim snarled. "Let's get this over with, then!"

Tak opened her mouth to say something, then took a few steps away from Zim. "Ugh," Tak spat, making a disgusted face. "You reek of human blood! Doesn't that bother you?"

"Don't like it, huh?" Zim said, unraveling the bandage on his arm gingerly. "Well, let's see how you like this!"

He took the bloodied cloth bandage in his left hand and whipped Tak across the face with it. Tak touched a hand to her cheek and screamed when she drew it away, noticing the blood on her hand. It was an earsplitting scream; I could tell she was truly disgusted.

"How dare you?" she shrieked. She extended her spider legs again and sent a blast at Zim. He darted away, barely missing it. He then rushed behind Tak and wrapped the bandage around her neck, choking her with it.

"Give up yet?" he shouted.

Tak screamed again and writhed free. She coughed, covering her nose and mouth with her clean hand. "Oh, my Tallest!" she cried out. "How can you not smell that? That… horrid… stench!"

"It's my own blood," Zim said, readying himself again after tossing the bandage aside. "It doesn't bother me."

Tak backed away, coughing. "How can it not?" she wondered. "Human blood has the most vile, pungent smell in the universe! How can it not bother you that it's your blood, Zim? Your disgusting, human blood?"

"So maybe I reek of human blood," Zim remarked, "but my sense of smell is different from yours, Tak. Plus, I've accepted that I'm human, now. It doesn't bother me." He smirked. "I guess that gives me the upper hand!"

He attacked her again, and this time, Tak held back a lot, fighting only with one hand, since she was still trying to avoid the smell of human blood.

"This ends now!" shouted Zim. He grabbed Tak between the shoulderblades and yanked her PAK off. Her hologram immediately disappeared, and she fell to the floor, screaming.

"YES!" I cried happily. "He did it!" I rushed over to Zim, and Dib walked up behind me, as did GIR. "You did it, Zim!" I exclaimed. "You won!"

"Yeah…" he replied, breathing heavily. "I did…" He shoved the PAK into my hands. "Hold this, will you?" he asked. "But be careful!" I nodded, and held it away from my body.

Zim scowled at Tak and picked her up by the collar. "Now, I don't remember the time limit on that," he said, "but I know you don't have long to live, so you'd better make good on that deal of ours!"

"Okay, okay! Just put me down!" Tak coughed, her eyes watering.

"God, Tak, are you allergic to my blood or something?" Zim wondered, raising an eyebrow. "You're reacting real violently."

"I-It's because you're spilling so much of it," she told him. "I just can't take it! I can't!"

Zim dropped Tak. "Hurry up," he ordered, folding his arms. "Reverse everything. The time warp, what you did to me… everything!"

"I can't do anything without my PAK!" Tak coughed. "Give it to me!"

"First give me your word that you'll do all you said you would!" Zim barked.

"Yes, yes, I do!" cried Tak. "I swear!"

Zim nodded to me, and I knealt, reattaching the PAK to our enemy's back. Tak activated her hologram and stood. "MiMi!" she called. "Help me!"

"I think this is one thing you should do alone," a familiar voice said from behind us. We all turned.

"Miyuki?" I gasped when I recognized the voice. Zim looked almost hopeful.

"Well… I guess I fooled you," said… said…

"MIMI?" Tak cried out in alarm.

Sure enough, Tak's SIR unit sat before us, in hologram. "I've done as you've asked me for the most part, mistress," said MiMi, her red eyes flashing with every syllable, "but I did take a few liberties."

"Th-that thing can talk?" Dib stammered.

"That 'thing' indeed!" MiMi scoffed. "But, yes, I've been fitted with a voice chip."

"You!" I shouted, pointing at her. "You were the one in my computer! You were the one who created that game!"

"That's right."

"You were helping them?" Tak cried, walking up to MiMi, disposing of her own hologram.

"I'm sorry, but you had gone a little too far," MiMi told her mistress. "I did try to recruit Dib, as you'd asked me, but…"

"I didn't give you a voice chip so you could aid those humans!" shrieked Tak.

"Mistress, you were tampering where you shouldn't have been!" MiMi snapped. "The SIR units' code does not allow for illegal use of time travel! I was only doing what was right for us all!"

"I can't believe you, MiMi!"

"So… wait," I said, holding a hand up, "Miyuki… doesn't factor into this at all?"

"Oh, she does," MiMi corrected, "but only as creator of these machines we have used." Hah, so Dib had been right! And I'd been right about Tak trying to interfere and get my brother on her side. Fucking bitch. "She seemed a perfect alibi…"

"How could I have forgotten..?" Zim asked himself quietly. "Of all things… how could I have forgotten her voice?" He clenched his hands into fists. "You liar!" he shouted. "How dare you? How dare you toy with my mind like that? I really believed that was her! I almost believed she was alive!"

"So sorry to disappoint," said MiMi, "but you are still my enemy, despite the fact that I helped you a bit just this once."

"You conniving little…" Zim growled. "I'LL KILL YOU! BOTH OF YOU!"

I held him back. "I'm as confused as you are," I said reassuringly, "so… don't attack just yet." I turned to Tak and MiMi. "What is this all about, anyway? Why all the lies? Who was Miyuki?"

Tak sighed. "Miyuki was the most powerful Irken Tallest in history," she said, "not only in her leadership qualities, but in her mystic abilities. About a century ago, she was killed. By you," she added, looking at Zim. "You also killed her successor, Spork. That's why I'm here. I was sent to rid the Empire of you, with the promise of becoming an Invader if I succeeded, but those two fools got in my way and I ended up warping time."

"Wow," Dib commented. "So you did have a plan."

"A poor one," MiMi said, glaring at Tak.

"Is that why you helped us?" I wanted to know.

"Exactly. It was mainly that thing I was training," MiMi confessed, looking at GIR. "I wanted a worthy opponent."

"But you did try to lure me to your side," Dib accused Tak.

"I was confused and didn't know what to do!" Tak screamed. "But I do now. MiMi… the restraints." MiMi narrowed her eyes and darted to the other side of the room, returning with what looked like thick handcuffs, only they weren't linked together. "These are linked directly to the second machine," Tak explained, "the Transmutation Device. As for the first, the Time Warp Machine, it should trigger about an hour after these go into effect."

With that, she threw the metal cuffs straight at Zim, and they snapped perfectly around his wrists. "The countdown has begun," said Tak. "They'll break at five-thirty tomorrow, and at that time you'll be Irken again."

Zim winced and held his head. "There must be side effects," he said. "I feel sick."

"Oh, that." Tak laughed. "They might drain your energy and strength a little bit, but it's nothing to worry about."

"What about me, Tak?" Dib asked. "Did you really do anything to me?"

"Well––"

"I did nothing," MiMi told him.

"Even if she did," Tak added, "you'll be unaffected once normalcy is resumed."

I almost said something about his eyes, but I didn't.

"And what about you?" my brother demanded of Tak. "You'll probably just up and leave after all of this, right?"

"You are smart," Tak remarked. "That's right; I'll be leaving, but you haven't seen the last of me. Now, get the hell out of here."

"W-Wait!" I said. "You still haven't answered all of my questions!"

"Well, then, doesn't that suck for you, little Gaz?"

"I'm not so little!" I roared. "Come closer to me and say that!"

"I'll pass," Tak snarled, extending her spider legs. "Leave, all of you! MiMi and I have repairs to do and much to plan."

"But––"

"OUT!" Tak cried, sending a blast at us.

Zim stepped out in front of me (and Dib, for that matter… and GIR, I guess) and outstretched his arms, taking the full blast himself.

"ZIM!" I screamed, just before the blast sent us crashing through the wall and out of Tak's base. The hole in the wall closed up almost immediately, and we all hit the ground hard.

"I WIN!" exclaimed GIR. "I really do!"

Zim groaned and slowly sat up.

"You… idiot!" Dib said angrily. "Why the hell did you do that? You're half dead already!"

"Are you okay?" I asked Zim, going for the more subtle approach.

"My whole body hurts like hell…" he groaned, "but… you're okay, right?" He looked at me hopefully. "You're not hurt?"

"I'm fine," I told him. "Thanks to you."

He smiled. "That's good." With that, he passed out. I gasped and started to panic.

"Guess he reached his limit," Dib shrugged. "He is human… after all…"

"What're we gonna do?" I wondered frantically. "We can't just…"

Dib rolled his eyes. "I said I owed him one," he said, standing.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," Dib answered, "to get the car. I don't have to worry anymore… plus, I want one more time behind the wheel before we go back, anyway."

"That's really nice of you…" I let him know.

Just before he could leave, MiMi darted out of Tak's base and sat, in cat guise, before us. "Well done," she said, her red eyes flashing as she spoke.

"MiMi," I began. "Will you answer all my questions? There's still a lot I don't understand."

"You'll have to wait," MiMi said. "Your questions will be answered later."

"And by later, you mean no time in my immediate future?" I guessed.

"Exactly," answered MiMi plainly.

"Wait," I added, before she could go. "Um... this ordeal... it was emotion-based, right?"

MiMi hesitated, then said, "Of course."

"So... the way Zim's been feeling... the way, um..." I growled, angry at myself for not being articulate. "Was the way he's been acting, as a human... was that all him?"

"Live well with the assurance," said MiMi, "that very little of this operation was orchestrated. You are only as you are. I cannot reveal to you what feelings belonged to him," she added, ticking her head down to indicate Zim, "but I can tell you that he changed indeed during this ordeal. It is with confidence that I forsee these changes holding strong to him in the future."

"So, he was being himself?" I translated hopefully.

"Only his physical change was planned," MiMi told me. "All other occurrences were based on his own levels of acceptance and experience."

"And, I know he has to go back," I added, getting stupidly teary, "but is there a possibility—"

"The future will reveal its plans as they occur," MiMi said, then sped away.

"Goddammit," I cursed.

Dib smiled. "I'll be back," he told me. "Just hold on."

"Okay."

He started off. I looked down at Zim; he was breathing heavily, and his breaths were staggered and slow. The wound from the dagger was caked in blood, and there was still some fresh blood on his arm. Hesitantly, I put a hand to his forehead. He was burning up. I also touched upon a few beads of sweat. Zim really had worked himself up and reached his limit. His seemingly limitless strength had actually worn out. I wanted to help him so badly.

"GIR," I said, turning to the robot, who saluted. "Will you do me a favor… to help your master?"

GIR nodded.

"Go home and get one of those bandages," I instructed, "for Zim's arm. Get anything else you think will help, too, okay, GIR?" I added, wording my request as easily for the dumb robot to understand as I could. "Hurry."

"Why?"

"Uh…" I thought for a moment. "It's a race," I decided on, "to see if you're faster than Dib."

GIR saluted again and rocketed off.

I ran a hand through Zim's thick, unruly hair, trying to memorize the feel of it. "Just hold on. I'm going to help you," I promised him, "just as you helped me."

Moments after he left, GIR returned, looking triumphant. "I win again!" he announced. He held up the bandage, and displayed his findings: a wet cloth (which really surprised me), a squeaky moose, and one of Zim's sweatshirts. GIR grabbed the moose, proclaiming, "MINE!" and curled up in the sweatshirt.

I rolled my eyes and gently washed the blood off of Zim's right arm with the cloth. He stirred uncomfortably. Even more cautiously, I set about wrapping the bandage around the laceration.

"Thank you."

I gasped. Zim opened his eyes and looked up at me.

"Y-You're welcome," I said, finishing what I was doing. "It's best if you don't move," I instructed. "Dib went to get the car; he should be back any second."

Zim grinned. "Trying to pay me back, is he?"

I laughed a little. "Hey," I said, switching gears, "you passed out for a couple minutes. Will you be able to stand?"

"I'm sure I can," Zim answered, fighting for control of his breath, "but not for very long." He slowly held up his left hand and glanced blankly at the wristcuff. "These things…" he said. "They're digging into my skin. They're… killing me." He lowered his hand again and heaved a sigh. "Thank you, though," he said again. "Really."

"Well," I said, "we said we'd help each other out, right?" That got him to smile, warmly.

Just then, Dib pulled up in the car. "Man, that felt great!" he announced. He got out and opened the back door.

"Time to make good on that attempt at standing," I said to Zim.

"Gotcha." Shakily, he sat up.

"Woah," said Dib, "he's awake."

"Not for long," Zim corrected, standing. I stood, too, and provided as much support as I could. "I'm sure I'll be out again pretty soon." When we got to the car, he sprawled out in the back seat and remarked. "I never thought I could be in so much pain!"

GIR darted into the car, too, carrying the items.

"Hey," I said as Dib and I got in, "Dib, do you think, for old time's sake… that being the beginning of this whole ordeal… um…"

Dib rolled his eyes again. "Zim, you're welcome to stay with us for the night," he said, answering the quesiton I hadn't even asked yet.

"Thanks," Zim managed to say.

Once we had gotten to our house, Zim fell asleep on our sofa.

"I can't believe he took the blast for us like that," Dib remarked. "Well, for you, anyway. God…" He sighed. "He really loves you, doesn't he?"

"Once again… yes," I replied.

Dib smiled. "Tomorrow," he said, "I'll let you two be together. I'll leave you alone. I promise."

"Thanks, Dib," I grinned.

As for the rest of that particular day, nothing else really happened. I helped my brother a little on the Spittle Runner. When I asked him why he was still bothering doing repairs on it, he replied that, first of all, it gave him an idea of what to do to the ship once we got back, and secondly, it was simply something fun and interesting for him. He also liked having something of Tak's... something to keep her pissed, and to give us the upper hand against her for her inevitable second return.

I found it both amusing and just a little sad that my brother enjoyed toying with Irken machinery, and Zim had completely forgotten how to operate it. He'd know again soon enough, I reminded myself. If he ever wakes up, I thought to myself, trying not to get too depressed.

– – –

At about five in the morning, I awoke to find Zim standing in my doorway.

"Oh, hello," I greeted, forcing myself awake.

"Good, you're awake!" Zim grinned, speaking in a hushed tone.

"So are you," I pointed out. "When'd you come to?"

"A couple hours ago," he answered, shrugging.

I sat on the edge of my bed. "So what's up?"

"Come up to the roof with me," he suggested. He was wearing the sweatshirt GIR had brought for him, and was holding a couple of blankets, which I had brought into the living room for him when he'd passed out on the sofa, just in case he'd need them.

"The roof?" I wondered.

He shrugged. "Seems like a good place to start the day."

"It's five a.m.," I reminded him, sitting up slowly.

"I know. I've been up at five a.m. before. When the week started. Please, just come up with me..?"

I laughed, wanting to go along with anything he could possibly suggest. "All right."

So I got out of bed, pulled on a thick pair of socks and a tight black sweater, then took out my ladder and opened up the hatch to the roof. Zim followed me up, then laid out one blanket and set the other to the side. We sat, silently, next to each other, and Zim kissed me just above my right ear. "Sorry I woke you up so early," he said, his voice still early-morning soft.

"It's okay," I assured him. I'm much more of a night person, but knowing Zim would only be around until 5:30 that evening made our choices of times a little lean. I yawned, as I hoped I wouldn't, which got an odd laugh out of Zim.

"You're still tired," he observed.

"Yeah, sorry."

He shrugged. "It's fine," he said. "Go ahead and lie down if you want." He held up the other blanket. "Honestly, I just wanted to be up here for the sunrise."

I realized that I'd never really watched a sunrise. I've stayed up all night, sure, but I've never taken the time to watch. Still, exhaustion got the better of me, so I laid down, facing out to where I knew the sun would be coming up. Zim set the blanket over me, then placed his left hand on my shoulder. After a few minutes, I dozed off, but woke again just as the sky was taking on orange hues. Zim was stroking my hair, softly, absently; he hadn't moved from my side.

"It's pretty," I admitted.

"Yeah," Zim agreed. "I love seeing how the colors blend together. I've never seen mixes of colors like that before. Earth is... a lot greater than I'd ever given it credit for..."

"Mm..." His light touch soothed me back to sleep.

I roused for the last time when the sun was completely in the sky. Everything that happened then... waking beside Zim, sitting up to tell him a proper good morning, returning the kiss he gave me... were actions I feared I'd never know again. Something else about having Zim around: I knew I'd never be able to match him. He'd spoiled me. No other guy could ever know me and be what I needed the way he was.

"Good morning," I mumbled again, nestling my head into the crook of his shoulder. "You were right about the sunrise. Sorry I kept falling asleep on you."

"It's okay," he assured me. "So, it was okay? I'm not being too cliché, am I?"

"Oh, it's cliché as hell," I laughed, "but it's fine."

Zim grinned. "You wanna go out?" he asked me.

"Huh?"

"I never actually took you out on a date," he said, "and if I don't now, I never will. So, what do you say?"

I smiled. "Let me get ready," I said. "I'd really like to go out with you."

We both laughed, and he ruffled my hair. He then helped me to my feet, and we gathered the blankets and headed back down the hatch and ladder into my room. Once there, Zim offered to take the blankets back downstairs, where I promised I'd meet him.

This was it. This was Zim's last day as a human. I couldn't believe it. He'd changed so much. He'd become my best and only friend. And now, in just a few short hours, he would be gone.

No, not yet, I reminded myself. Not… forever… I added hopefully.

I showered and dressed more tediously than I would have liked. I felt really girly that morning, what with taking the time to find what I considered to be my nicest outfit and making sure I looked okay. More than okay, actually. Nice. Pretty, even.

'Beautiful…'

I felt a sting in my chest again as the word echoed in my ears from several nights ago. Did he really mean that? He must have, I told myself. "He does," I said aloud. "He did mean it… but after today, he'll never think that about me again."

I shook my head of those thoughts and walked downstairs. When I entered the living room, only Zim was there. I'm not sure where GIR had run off to, but I was positive my brother was in the garage, still slaving over the ship he had become so obsessed with lately.

"You sure you wanna do this?" I asked Zim. "I mean… it's your last day as a human!"

"And how else would I spend it?" he grinned in reply.

I found myself blushing again. Zim put a hand on my shoulder and lead me out. After we'd been walking for a moment, I noticed again that he was wearing the sweatshirt that GIR had grabbed for him the day before.

"Why are you wearing that?" I wondered.

"Huh? What?"

"That," I repeated, pointing to the loose-fitting black sweatshirt.

"Oh, this." Zim tugged at it. "It covers up the metal things on my wrists, see?" He rolled his right sleeve up a bit, revealing the cuff, then obscured his wrist again.

"I get it," I said. "Good call."

"Thanks." His mood suddenly changed and he said, "I can hide them… but it doesn't stop them from being there."

"Do they still hurt?"

"A little," he sighed. "It's mostly what they stand for that I don't like." He shook his head. "But let's not talk about that now," he said, smiling again. That was another thing I loved about him: his smile. I just always felt so wonderful whenever he smiled at me.

"So, what do you wanna do?" Zim asked me. He outstretched his arms. "We have the whole day! It's ours. What do you feel like doing?"

"Anything," I replied.

"Ah, come on, that's no way to start," laughed Zim. "There must be something. What comes to mind?"

"Well..." I began. I thought for a minute, and, God knows why, all I could come up with was, "Should we start with breakfast?"

Zim laughed—another thing about him that was no longer Irken was the light, simple way he laughed—and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Breakfast," he repeated. "Good plan."

"I forgot my wallet," I realized.

"I didn't. And I'm paying," Zim grinned. "I'm your boyfriend, remember?"

The word jostled me and made my heart leap again. But I let go of whatever unease there was, and accepted it. Today, we could just be together, no questions asked. Today, he was my boyfriend. Worked for me.

"How do you have money, anyway?" I had to ask, as we took the long way into town.

"Found a wallet, there was money in it," said Zim. "In my room," he added before I could accuse him of theft. "I'm glad GIR grabbed this sweatshirt for that reason, too... I'd stuffed it in here. Oh, and um, there's something else..."

"What?"

"I'll tell you later," Zim smiled. "Just don't let me forget."

So we walked, as a couple—strange and new as that felt, through the turning autumn trees and into the expansive downtown pseudometropolis. There's a coffee and tea place (not the one I had earlier stopped into) away from most of the city noise, which was precisely where we headed, and sat down to share an order of Eggs Benedict, and lingered over a cup of coffee each—we each took milk and sugar. We talked about nothing in particular, since neither of us wanted to dwell on the looming obvious. We pretended to talk about school, then moved into hobbies, which of course became about music.

Zim admitted that he wished that he could have heard me play the guitar more; I tried to work out a schedule that would allow us to head back to my house so I could play for him before he had to 'leave.' In discussing musical taste, Zim said that he wished he had time to develop some, so I immediately blurt out that he should take to following the career of Bloody Nails Melissa.

"She's amazing," I babbled, engrossed by my favorite Goth guitarist. "I think you'd like her music, I mean, really! And she's local, so she's easy to follow. She's got a voice, too. I've never been old enough to go to one of her concerts, but sometimes she plays daytimes in coffee shops just for the hell of it. Well, that and exposure."

"If she's an influence of yours, then she must be good," said Zim. His eyes had barely left mine through the talk. His coffee—well, his second cup—was sitting virtually untouched. "You're really into this Goth thing, huh?"

I shrugged modestly. "I mean, I identify with it, yeah," I said. "I feel like identity is about personality, and music, and literature, and all that. Goth is just what I've always migrated to. It's melancholy; it's familiar."

"It's right for you," Zim complimented me. "Don't try to be anything else."

"I don't think I could," I confessed.

Zim smiled, and we talked a while longer before he paid the tab and we left the restaurant. "Well? What now?" he wondered, taking my hand as we ventured out into the blasted sun.

"Let's just walk around," I suggested. "Let's just do nothing."

"But nothing—"

"—never happens, I know, I know. So let's see what does."

Zim grinned. "I like that. Sure. Nothing it is."

Our nothing date turned into what I can only describe as fun. I've never sought out fun before, or even thought about it. I find videogames fun. I find annoying my brother fun. But having fun seemed like something for the normal population. I was surprised by now great the day went, honestly.

We went everywhere. Our town has quite the art museum, where we spent a good chunk of time before Zim got bored, so we raced over to the modern art section to give fake, haughty critiques to some of the lesser, crazier works which had been collected most likely accidentally. Once the guards kicked us out of the museum for being disruptive, we found our way into record stores, where I pointed out some of Bloody Nails Melissa's best works, and into the town park, where we watched others pass by, and where we found a more hidden place to be alone.

Once alone, we were quiet, and in the silence, we came together. Before we could plan a thing, Zim's fingers were twined into my hair, my hands were locked around his neck, and we shut out the world. He kissed me, feverishly, over and over again; I breathed him in as my mind begged and pleaded for him not to let go—not to leave. Our makeout session came to an awful end when I caught myself crying, and the next twenty or so minutes were spent with Zim trying to calm me down, stroking my back as I tried to keep my emotions inside and my makeup from smearing.

Even so, the words "I love you," never passed my lips. I was still too frightened to say them. I was still unsure.

After Zim had succeeded in calming me, he kissed my forehead, helped me up, and set a hand on my back as he led me out of the park. We'd gotten such an early start, we were both already hungry again. This was, I'll add, the hungriest I'd been all week. I blamed it on not knowing what else teenagers did on dates other than take each other out for meals.

"So, where to now?" Zim wondered.

"Hmm..." Attempting to come up with something we hadn't had that week, I went for, "Have you ever had sushi?"

"Can't say that I have," Zim told me, "but I'm up for it! Anything and everything that comes my way today I'm ready for. I want to experience as much as I can." He turned to look at me. "And I want to experience it all with you," he added.

I felt my eyes water again.

"Why?" I wanted to know.

"Cuz that's just the kind of human I am," Zim answered. "Now, where do we find this... 'sushi?'"

I grinned, took his hand in mine, and lead him to the Japanese sushi bar in town. "You gotta try the unagi," I instructed giddily before I could stop myself. "Eel's my favorite, even if it's cooked. But the raw sushi is even better."

"Raw?" Zim repeated, then burst out laughing. "After all the tangents my mother went off on about raw stuff leading to food poisoning, you go and tell me to eat this! I love it! I love defying the establishment!"

"You did when you were Irken, too," I told him after ordering.

"Really? That must have been one of the traits I kept, then. From what GIR was able to tell me, I lost most of my Irken traits in the transformation. Only a couple remained."

"GIR?" I asked. "Really? He can get serious enough to talk about that sort of thing?"

"Dear lord, no," Zim answered. "What happened was, a couple of days ago, I was starting to doubt that I had ever been Irken," he confessed, "so I asked GIR if he had any proof of my being an Invader."

"Woah. What'd he do?"

"I––this is pretty funny, actually––rigged him up to the television and accessed his memory files," Zim explained. "I was able to watch things I did as an Irken that GIR had 'remembered,' kind of like accessing tapes from a security camera." He laughed. "I pretty much only accepted that it was me because I recognized my voice… sorta." His brown eyes met mine. "It's lower now, isn't it?" he asked me. "I never really noticed until then. It just always sounded right to me. Even that first night, in Tak's base."

"Yeah," I confirmed, blushing I'm sure. "Your voice is lower."

Lower, and comforting, and wonderful. Zim's human voice was so noticeably different from his Irken one. It was a little lower, and it had lost its shrill Irken ring. Of course, I'd noticed the smoothness of his voice that first night, when we had been alone, when he had called me beautiful.

Zim sighed. "But even that I've practically forgotten… that day, I mean… because I can't picture myself as an Irken anymore. I told you that, right? I really can't."

"Well, pretty soon, you'll––"

"Let's not talk about 'soon,'" Zim cut in, "let's talk about now. For now… I'm human. For now, I'm your friend."

I blushed (again!) and smiled, and then the sushi was ready. Zim developed quite a taste for it, and requested, a couple hours later, that we return, since it was his only chance to actually eat sushi.

The late morning soon turned to afternoon, and the two of us were still finding new things to do, as if the day would never end. I remember checking my watch at 2:00 for some reason. Three and a half hours, I thought. That's it. Make it last!

As though he had been reading my thoughts, Zim asked me, "The day's winding down, huh?"

"Uh-huh," I answered. "I…" My thought was cut off when I noticed a few nearby girls staring at us, obviously angered by the fact that a plain-looking Goth girl like me was out with a guy like eyes narrowed. "I am so sick of girls staring at us like that!"

"Huh?" Zim craned his neck around to see what I was talking about. "Oh."

"Let's get out of here," I growled.

As we started walking away, Zim said, "Hey, Gaz, out of curiosity, um…"

"Hmmm?"

"What is it that you see in me, anyway?"

I went incredibly red and almost blurt out "EVERYTHING!" but I knew that was exactly what he didn't want to hear.

"Your personality," I answered.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," I said, looking up at him. "You're really nice, especially to me. Nobody's ever treated me the way you do."

Zim smiled. "I must have changed a lot," he laughed. "It was my personality that caused the Tallest to banish me… twice." He stopped walking and held his head. "Woah… I… I remember that?"

"Oh!" I exclaimed. "Your memories are returning?"

"Must be," said Zim. "The… 'Tallest…' that's what the Irken leaders are called, right?"

"Yeah." Wow, I thought. He must have slipped really far if he'd even forgotten that.

"I wonder how tall they actually are," Zim mused. "I wonder if they'd be intimidated by my height now. Wouldn't that be funny?"

"It'd be pretty interesting, yeah," I concurred. "I doubt they're that much taller than you."

I suddenly wished Zim could be on our side for another reason than to simply be with him. In the battle that I knew would eventually come, he'd be a great fighter for us humans: taller than average Irkens, and nearly as tall as the Tallest themselves, and stronger than them, most likely. I shook my head. What's to say the battle will even occur when I really hit fifteen? I reminded myself. It'll probably happen sooner than that.

"You okay?" Zim asked me, looking concerned.

"I'm fine… fine," I assured him. I happened to look up right into his gleaming, deep brown eyes. "Your eyes," I said softly.

"What about them?"

"Something else I really like about you," I told him. "Your eyes. I… I don't quite know why, but I do. You just have such deep, expressive eyes."

Zim smiled down at me. "I never knew eyes could have such meaning," he said. "Heh, I never knew a lot of things, until I became human. I wonder… will that knowledge still remain..?"

"I hope so," I whispered.

A slight wind rose up, and Zim said, "Hold on a second, Gaz."

He stopped walking and stood with his eyes closed and his arms slightly outstretched. "Ah, this feels great," he said, mostly to himself, as the wind blew about and swept through his hair and loose-fitting clothes. "Above my height and strength… this is what I'll miss the most about having a human body."

I smiled, feeling great just to see him so happy. That was the moment I have still playing on repeat in my memory. This was Zim the way I always wanted to remember him. This person, this incredible person who had given me so much, deep in his element, completely alive. I see this moment every time I feel a breeze, now. It sounds lame, but I don't care. I do.

I felt a slight chill in the air, so I wrapped my arms around myself to try and generate some heat.

When the wind died down, Zim messed with his hair a little so it fell naturally again, then stepped up to me. "God, I love the feel of wind," he declared. "I always did, but it's even better experiencing it as a human."

"I'm sure there are lots of things that are different," I said.

"Gaz, are you cold?"

"Huh?" I put my arms to my sides. "No, not really," I lied. Just then, I felt a chill again, and shuddered.

"Nonsense," said Zim. "Here, take this," he continued, taking off his sweatshirt and placing it on my shoulders. "It has gotten pretty cold."

"I can't take this," I tried to protest, despite the fact that, even with the garment resting on my shoulders, I was already warmer. "You need it."

"Not as much as you," Zim said. "Put it on; you're freezing."

I'm pretty sure I was blushing again as I pulled the sweatshirt on. It was pretty big on me, because I didn't match Zim's height and stature. My shoulders were too small, and my arms weren't long enough, but that just made the sweatshirt feel even warmer.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked Zim as we continued walking.

"Nah," he said, "it doesn't bother me." He scowled at his wrists. "These cuffs do, though," he snarled, "but at least they're getting looser."

"That probably means you're closer to being Irken," I noted.

"I've only got about two hours left, don't I?"

"More or less."

Zim shook his head. "I can't believe it." I saw tears in his eyes, but, just like all the other times, they did not fall. They never would. It was the Irken in him that stopped him from crying, I concluded. I was, of course, wrong, or just partially right. I recently recalled more of my mother's words, and discovered that the real reason that Zim didn't cry was that he was spiritually unable to. No matter how human he had become, he had no soul.

"Okay, we can't really be out of ideas," said Zim all of a sudden. "There must be––watch out!"

Before I could say anything, Zim swiftly scooped me into his arms.

"Hey! What––?" I stuttered.

"You gotta watch where you're walking," Zim said, looking at me concernedly. "You almost fell down an open manhole, for God's sake! You're so skinny you woulda gone right through!"

My heart started beating wildly. "Thanks for saving me," I managed to say.

"No problem," Zim shrugged, setting me gently back on my feet.

I looked down and saw what it was Zim was talking about. It looked like a long fall.

"Um, Gaz… you can let go of my arm now," said Zim, clearing his throat. "You're safe."

"Oh!" I let go, not realizing what I'd been doing. "Sorry! That's your bad arm, too! I'm sorry!"

"You don't have to apologize," Zim smiled, putting a hand on top of my head and ruffling my hair a bit. "Just stay out of trouble, okay?"

I laughed. "Gotcha." Grinning nervously, I said, "I never really noticed your strength outside of battle. You just picked me up like it was nothing!"

Zim ran a hand through his hair and laughed. "It wasn't, really," he said. "You're really light."

"I weigh 115."

Zim raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. "Feels like about twenty to me."

My eyes widened. "That's really cool how you're still that strong even without your PAK!" I exclaimed. "No offense, but you don't really look as strong as you are."

"No?" Zim rolled up his left sleeve and examined that arm. I kind of noticed, then: it looked like his arm was flexed, but I could tell it wasn't, because his hand was too relaxed. That must have been one of the aspects the other girls saw in him, I realized.

Zim shrugged and rolled his sleeve down, then fished his wallet out of his pocket. "You want dinner?" he asked.

"Sure," I replied.

Since neither of us was very hungry, we simply went out for pizza. Zim laughed at the fact that it was both the first and last thing that he ate as a human.

"You really like our food, don't you?" I asked him.

"Are you kidding?" he replied. "It's awesome! Argh… I wish I'd have the stomach for it once I'm Irken again. I remember, now, how human food would always make me sick."

Zim gasped and put a hand to his throat. I knew why: that last sentence was spoken in his Irken voice, and hearing it scared us both. Zim cleared his throat (reminding me of Dib at the begining of the whole incident). "Please go back," he whispered, clearing his throat again.

"Oh, God…" Zim said shakily, his voice returning to its lower, human tone. "That was… that was… my voice…" He stood. "Let's get out of here."

I nodded and walked over to him. He slapped a wad of cash down on the table and led me out. When we were outside, I noticed that the sun had set. For a September night, that was pretty bizarre.

Zim paced, running his hands through his hair. "Shit," he hissed through clenched teeth. "It's starting." He turned to look at me. "We need to go somewhere… anywhere! I can't be seen like this!"

"There must be a back alley nearby," I said.

Zim clasped my hand. "We need to find one… and fast!" He broke into a run, and I had no choice but to keep up.

After a couple of minutes, Zim found what he was looking for and ducked into an abandoned, dead-end alleyway. "We should both be safe here," he panted.

"It seems like you're trying to outrun the transformation," I pointed out.

"Oh, man, would it be great if I actually could," Zim said forlornly.

Once we'd both caught our breath, Zim wrapped his arms around me and held me close. "Don't let go, Gaz," he pleaded in a whisper. "Please, don't let go just yet."

In the distance, I heard music; the chorus of the song seemed to echo in the alley: "Oh, my love, please don't cry. I'll wash my bloody hands and we'll start a new life. I don't know much at all, I don't know wrong from right. All I know is that I love you tonight."

"Sounds about right," Zim commented, obviously hearing it, too.

"Yeah," I agreed, burying my head in his shoulder.

"It's 'our song,' then," said Zim, stroking my hair.

I would have said something in agreement, but the tears came on too fast. I bawled into Zim's shoulder. "Don't leave me, Zim," I sobbed, "please! You're the only friend I've ever had."

"Oh, Gaz…" he whispered softly into my ear. "Thank you for being here for me." As we stood there, so close together, he took in a long breath, then said, his voice still a whisper, "I'd give up everything for you."

"What?" I wondered, clutching him tightly, knowing that soon he'd just disappear.

"Everything I have," he clarified, his fingers lightly woven betwixt my hair. "Every bit of my life as... as I really am... I'd give it all up in a heartbeat for you."

"Zim..." Does he know what he's saying? I wondered.

"I can't ever repay you for the way you've made me feel," Zim continued. "But I'd give up everything for one more day with you."

Stop it, I scolded myself, stop crying. No use. "Why?" I asked. "Why are you saying that?"

Subconsciously, I wanted him to just confess again, but all he said was, "You know why. And you'll always be the reason."

He held me for a moment longer, then tilted my chin up and smiled down at me. Gently, he wiped away the tears from my eyes. I could tell that he was crying inside. I gazed into his beautiful dark brown eyes one last time, then stood on my toes and kissed him. Once again, Zim held me as we shared our last kiss. Our kiss goodnight… our kiss goodbye.

When we pulled away, Zim whispered, "Go."

"Wait," I said, "Zim, there's something I need to tell you." This is it, I told myself. Just say it. Say 'I love you.'

Just then, the metal cuffs on Zim's wrists cracked. "No time, Gaz!" he nearly shouted. "You have to get out of here! NOW!"

Tears streaming out of my eyes, I started to walk away. I turned around, but instead of telling Zim that I loved him, I asked, "Will I ever see you like this again?"

"If I have anything to say about it, you will… I promise," said Zim. "I can only hope that this side of me will stay alive." The cuffs glowed blue. For the last time in his low, gentle human voice, Zim shouted, "Please, Gaz, get out of here! I don't want you to see this! I don't want to hurt you! Go now! Run!"

I took one last look at Zim, the only person I could ever love, then, reluctantly, darted away. A compelling voice in my head told me to only half-listen to his orders. Feeling terrible about it, I rushed up the fire escape of a building overlooking the alley and looked on with sadness and horror as the transformation began, destroying Zim's human life.

A blue light engulfed him, and he cried out, falling to his knees. Both hands flew to his head as he shouted "NO!" in his shrill, commanding Irken voice. "No!" he shouted again. "Stop! Stop it! I don't want to go back! Who cares if I forget everything? I WANT TO BE HUMAN!"

I hugged his sweatshirt around me. "For me..?" I whispered shakily. "He loves me that much..?"

Zim let out a bloodcurdling cry of pain and sheer terror, and the light glowed brighter.

"Stop it!" he shouted yet again. "Are you listening, Tak? Stop this right now! I LOVE HER! DOES THAT MEAN NOTHING? LET ME BE HUMAN!"

The light was blinding now; I could no longer see Zim, but I could hear him. He cried out again, and the light shot out in all directions. I shielded my eyes, then looked back as soon as it died down. Instantly, my stomach flipped, and my eyes misted up. It was over.

Invader Zim was back to normal, in body, anyway. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at his hands. "NO!" he cried. "No, these… these aren't my hands!" He stood shakily and staggered, examining his newly restored Irken body. "FUCK!" he screamed. "I'm SHORT!" Angrily, he whirled around and punched a fist into the nearest brick wall, then retracted it, shouting "OW!" He rubbed his hand and complained, "It's gone… my strength is gone!" He glared angrily at his hands once more. "Dammit!" he spat. "I'm weak again!"

He scowled. "That Tak…" he snarled. "I'll teach her to give me such a great gift, only to take it away! GIR!" he shouted fiercely.

Almost immediately, GIR rocketed up to him. "You're back!" cried GIR happily.

Zim sighed. "Get me out of here, GIR," he ordered. "Let's go back to the base."

GIR went into duty mode and saluted, then rocketed away again with Invader Zim riding on his back.

Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I started back down the fire escape. I zipped up Zim's sweatshirt a little, then started off toward home. No matter how fast I ran, it didn't seem fast enough. Just as Zim had wanted to outrun the transformation, I now wanted to outrun all these awful new truths. He was gone. He was gone. He was gone, and I missed him more than anything. I felt sick with want. I wanted him back. I wanted the day to start over. I wanted to lie down on a blanket on the roof and wake up beside him, and freeze time and stay right there forever. That, more than anything, proved to me that I was indeed in love. And now it was time to be heartbroken.

When I got to the house, I found Dib on the sofa, reading one of his paranormal magazines. I just sort of stood there. "Dib…" I choked.

My brother looked up and tossed the magazine aside. He walked up to me, looking worried. "Gaz!" he said, putting his hands on my shoulders. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"He's… he's gone…" I sniffed, the tears still steadily falling. "He's really gone!" I cupped my hands over my eyes. "Zim is Irken again!" I cried. "My best friend is gone, Dib!"

"Gaz, it'll be okay," Dib said comfortingly.

I flung my arms around him, and he hugged me back. "He's not human anymore!" I sobbed. "I don't think he ever will be! And… and…"

I felt like GIR: unable to finish sentences while crying.

"And what?" asked Dib, his low voice smooth and calming.

"I never got to tell him!" I cried. "I never told him that I loved him!"

"I-I'm sure he knew," Dib said.

"But is that enough?" I wondered. "I never told him, and now I'll never have the chance to! Will he ever really know? Will he ever be human again?"

"I have the feeling that part of him still is," said Dib. "Just as part of him remained Irken through this whole ordeal, I'll bet his human side will continue to have influence on him now."

"Oh, God, Dib, I hope you're right. I really hope you're right." I continued crying for another minute, then forced myself to stop. Dib said nothing, probably knowing that it was best to give me the quiet I needed. After a few moments, I let go and looked up at my brother. "Thanks, Dib," I said.

"For what?"

"For being such a great brother."

Dib smiled. The light brought out the red in his eyes. I had a feeling that it was going to be a permanent change. The red just looked so natural, now… as though his eyes had always had that gleam, and I'd just never noticed.

"We should go up to our rooms," Dib suggested. "The Time Warp will be coming to an end soon."

"Okay," I said.

Dib sighed and took off his trench coat. "You know," he said, "I'm gonna miss being this tall."

"You'll get there," I assured him as we started walking toward the stairs. "You're probably due for a growth spurt in the next year or two, anyway."

Dib laughed. "See you in the past," he said, walking toward his room.

"Don't you mean the present?" I joked, walking into my own room and closing the door.

I stepped over to my broken window and savored the cool, early evening breeze. I don't know how, but the radio turned itself on.

"…An old favorite," the disc jockey announced, "'My Bloody Valentine.'"

After a pause, the song came on softly. "Oh, my love, please don't cry…"

I turned and stared wide-eyed at the radio. I stood in silence and listened until the song ended. I then stepped over and turned the radio off. I unzipped Zim's sweatshirt and wrapped it around me.

"I love you," I whispered. "I know you can't hear me, but I love you."

I wondered if, now, he would even care. I shoved the thought from my mind and laid down on my bed, clutching Zim's sweatshirt tightly. It still carried his scent.

A purple light shone through my window, as it had several days before. I suddenly felt extremely tired. My mind was a mix of relieved, heartbroken, and petrified. Now that we were going back, everything was uncertain. Life would pick up where we had left off, but there was no telling if any of us would come out of this exactly as we had been. Nothing never happens. Nothing is ever certain. I keep telling myself that, over and over. I have to write it down to remind myself that Zim passionately believes that, too.

I closed my eyes and buried my face in Zim's sweatshirt, replaying memories of the past eight days in my head, vividly remembering the wonderful human that Zim had become.

He'd called me beautiful. He'd kissed me. He'd told me that he loved me.

"Please," I whispered to any god who would listen, "don't let this be the end."

I imagined Zim sitting next to me, waiting for me to wake and tell him I loved him. I fell asleep smiling.

– – –

I awoke the next morning to my brother yelling something along the lines of: "Gaz, you've gotta see this!"

I groaned and stirred. I sat up and stretched. Something soft and heavy covered me. I pulled it off and my eyes widened for two rasons. First, my hands. My hands looked so small! I sighed, dejected. We were back. I then gasped at my apparent blanket.

"No way," I breathed. I couldn't believe it: Zim's sweatshirt! It was draped over me, as if placed strategically there. Just as it had the night before, it carried his scent, it carried the memory of his week as a human. "Wouldn't this have disappeared? It's not supposed to exist!"

"GAZ! Get out here! I mean it!"

I growled loudly and jumped off my bed, feeling dizzy. I'd gotten so used to being 5'7."

As I walked downstairs and crossed through the living room (back to normal, with our old kitchen behind it), I noticed my game console was on, on the TV. The screen read: "Warped: Game Over. Continue?"

I grinned. "I get it now," I said. "The Time Warp itself was the game. Good one, MiMi." We'd been playing all along, I realized. However, I didn't know whether or not I had won or lost. I played my part, I did what I had to do… but I'd lost my best friend, and come out of the experience with a broken heart.

Though the better part of my conscience told me to ignore it, curiosity got the better of me, and I walked over to the controller. The x button was too inticing. I pressed it. The screen merely shifted to an itemized list, which is something normally found at the end of single battles, or levels. This was a full game summary, based on which player had earned what item. Player Four was listed first. Ability: Awareness. GIR. Player Four. I skipped Player Three. These were backwards in the order we had played that night, that one, fantastic, normal night. Player Two. Dib. Item: Runner. Ability: Insight. Shit... his eyes. I'd have to check his eyes.

Player One. Me. Item: ? Great. Not even MiMi's game knew what was in the box. That's fine. I'm going to open it in three years, anyway. I can wait a little longer. Besides, the more important thing was...

Player Three.

Zim.

Ability: Conscience. Ability: Insight. Ability:

"GAZ, GET OUT HERE!"

Dib's voice jostled me out of reading the rest. I never got to read it. I still wonder what it had said, and I constantly tell myself that it was something positive... something that could hint at a future I know I'll like.

I walked out to the garage, where I knew my brother was.

"Check it out!" he boasted. Dib was, of course, back to himself as well, clad in his usual trench coat and rounded glasses. I got a glimpse of his eyes. Brown for the most part. Red flecks in the light.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, your voice is back to normal," I said, unimpressed.

"What? Oh, yeah, there's that… but look at this!" He gestured to the Spittle Runner. I raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you don't notice! Look! All the repairs I did on it in the future! All my work remained!"

"Creepy. How?"

"No clue! But who cares?" Dib grinned, overjoyed. "Do you know what this means?"

"No."

"Me, neither!"

"Now I remember why you frightened me," I stated blankly.

"Whatever," Dib shrugged. "Ah… you know, I bet I could actually break out of orbit with this thing now!"

"That's great, Dib," I said, only half meaning it. "Look, I've got stuff to do."

"Like what?"

"Contemplate a few things, then go into town."

"What for?"

I smirked. "I think I'm gonna buy a guitar."

My brother smiled. "Go for it."

I went back up to my room. Zim's sweatshirt was still there. I climbed up onto my bed and held it close. "Does this mean I'll see you again?" I wondered. "Does this mean you'll be human again?"

It must, I thought. Why else would it be here… unless he's definitely going to be human again someday?

I smiled and sighed, glancing around my room. My daggers were back; the ones Tak had stolen. They had a strange purple glow to them now. I would soon realize that it was nothing to worry about… Tak hadn't done anything to them. They still put me on edge, and I wondered if Zim's arm was still wounded. I wondered if he was still being plagued by flashes of memories—nightmares—from the era of his life he was in the dark about. I wondered if I would ever learn more about that part of his life, and if he would ever open up to me again. More than anything, I just wanted to keep what we had.

I wanted us to keep our promise to help each other. That was the closest thing I could hope for, now, and I told myself to cling to at least that. No matter how like his old Invader self Zim could now become, I had to keep his human side alive at least in my memory. I had to keep at least this constant.

I went into town later and bought myself a black, acoustic guitar. "This must have been the one," I said to myself once I'd brought the instrument home. I thought I'd have to practice a lot before I got as good as I was during the warp, but I found that playing the guitar was just a natural skill. Thanks for at least that, Mom.

The first song I picked out this time was not "Ode To A Dying Day," but, rather, "My Bloody Valentine." I hadn't had the chance to play the guitar for Zim again after our date, I realized. That hurt to know, and still hurts to remember, but I keep telling myself that I'll keep practicing... that he'll hear me play again yet. No matter what.

"I don't know much at all," I sang, "I don't know wrong from right. All I know is that I love you tonight."

I resolved to work on my singing. "Girls my age don't usually have great voices, anyway," I reminded myself.

I remember my mother having a lovely voice. I remembered words, in her native Finnish, filling the house and bringing us together. Just as Dad had always had the gift for all things scientific, Mom had been gifted in music. I hoped singing would eventually come naturally to me, too.

I set down the guitar and picked up Zim's sweatshirt. Out of the left pocket fell a small box and an attached note. Something he forgot to give me? Oh, I remembered, he'd asked me to remind him of something... But we hadn't gotten the chance. The date had gone off on its own, and I'd forgotten all about the fact that Zim had something else he had wanted to share with me.

I opened the note, carefully unfolding the paper so as not to disturb the writing or tear even a tiny bit of one corner.. "Gaz," it read in Zim's shaky handwriting, "open this in about three years. You'll understand why at the time."

Part of me wanted to open it right then and there, but, since I'd disobeyed him the night before, I decided not to. I placed the box on the bedside table where, I resolved, it would sit for the next three years. I'm looking at it now, letting my fingers do the typing. Three years. That's all. Something, I keep having to tell myself, will happen in three years. Until then, I'll hold onto this, I'll keep this gift from him nearby at all times. And more than anything, I'll do what I must to play my part.

The Time Warp has passed, but my story is far from being over. I still have a battle to prepare for, and I'm sure that I have an important duty to fulfill. Tak will return, I'm certain. The Irkens won't be able to ignore Earth much longer. But when they come, I'll be ready. As a family unit, now, Dib and I are more powerful, and more prepared. I'll play my part gladly, now. I'm ready. I am ready.

Oh, yes. And I am patiently waiting, with hope in my heart, for that day, somewhere in the future, when Zim will be human again.

–the end–

Song Credits:

"My Bloody Valentine" - Good Charlotte [I realized, looking back, that this isn't my favorite choice, but I kept it in since I didn't want to change too much in the final edit... :3]

Author's Closing Note:

Aaaaaand, that's it! I hope you have enjoyed reading Time Warp Factor Five. (Hugest thanks to my good friends A_, J_ and D_ who read the original-original TWFF, and provided feedback, gave input, and helped edit in many places! 3)

And I know, there are still a lot of questions to be answered. But next week, I'll begin posting (in much smaller quantities, I promise) the sequel, Part One of what is titled The Mandylion Saga. IZMS: Part One: Changes will start up next week, and begin answering many questions, and setting up a much bigger plot... :3

Thank you again for reading! Do let me know what you think; I love feedback~~!

~Jizena~