(Obligatory Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I wish I did, but I don't. They belong to Viacom, Jhonen, etc…)

Dib shut the door quietly when he came home from Mid L skool that day, not out of courtesy of everyone else in the house, but because he did not want his family or anyone else really to see him; not like this. He shook his head violently, partly to shake the rain from his hair but mostly out of frustration.

Tears were stuck in his eyes, but none would flow down his face. Dib would not allow it, for he was thirteen now, and thirteen-year-old boys do not cry over such ridiculous things as bruises. There was something that hurt him even more than the cuts and scrapes that littered his face though. It hurt even more than the royal purple ring around his right eye.

It was the monsters that surrounded him daily, and for a change he didn't mean Bigfoots or vampires or even aliens. It was his peers who watched his torment and said nothing. There was not a helping hand from grace as he fell hard against the cement outside of the skool.

Dib racked his brain, trying desperately to remember the name of his executioner. He remembered violent red hair, nearly the color of blood. Perhaps it was blood; maybe it was his own blood littering this boy's hair. The color did not matter so much, because Dib knew that he wasn't human. He couldn't have been human, acting the way he did.

" Monster…you're a monster…"

Not a soul had heard his weak protests. Instead, they allowed the schoolyard bully to continue the pummeling. Dib couldn't even remember why the kid felt he needed to be punished in the first place. All he knew was that it hurt now and would probably hurt for a while afterward.

When he moved he could feel his jacket hanging awkwardly, but he couldn't bring himself to see if it had been damaged. It would only break him down into little pieces again. His backpack crashed to the ground by the door with a sickening crunch that probably broke a binder or two. Dib cringed, remembering that his glasses had crunched the same way and that in order to get home he had to wear them with the lenses cracked and a broken frame and bits of glass missing.

He felt like someone had rammed a bulldozer into his head over and over and over again. It was difficult to form coherent thoughts because of pain of all kinds. Dib had to force himself to the stairs, because he wanted desperately to collapse right then and there and sob until no more tears would flow from his eyes. He refused though, because he was strong, and he was unbreakable, and he was thirteen and thirteen-year-old boys don't cry over things like this.

Each step up the stairs was painful, but he would not look to see if his legs had been cut. It was mostly mental exhaustion anyhow and the pains of betrayal. It was days like these that made him almost forget why he was trying to save these people anyway.

He had started seventh grade that year. Things were supposed to change then. His peers were supposed to get smarter and more observant. They were supposed to stop and realize that Zim hadn't changed at all since fourth grade and that Dib must have been right. They were supposed to remember that Dib was a human being too, and not something that deserved to be tortured this way.

Things did change though. The boys were getting stronger and the girls were turning from Marys to Madonnas. Somehow Dib had gone from just the weird kid in class to the skool punching bag. Even Zim was more accepted than he was. It was a horrible irony that killed him alone, and only alone because he had to stay strong for everyone he needed to keep safe.

It was only then that he realized that he infact, was alone in his house at that moment. His dad was at his lab across town and he had no idea where Gaz was, since no one ever bothered to leave notes for him. It was a rather discouraging thought, as he dragged himself to the bathroom to inspect his injuries.

Looking in the mirror he sighed. As he had feared, his glasses were far beyond repair with their broken lenses and twisted frame. Dib saw for the first time the wounds he had received, the scrapes, the bruises, and the cuts that were still bleeding. Somehow, seeing them made them sting even more.

Carefully, so he wouldn't get shards in his eyes, Dib removed his glasses. Setting them on the counter, he wiped the tears from his eyes and the blood from his face. He was a mess and he knew he was a mess and the world's savior couldn't be a mess like this. When the salty water flowed to a stop, he peered into the mirror at his red face and immediately noticed something strange.

Dib could see himself clearly. He rubbed his eyes again and stared. He was farsighted, he shouldn't be able to see any of the things close to him and yet there they were, clear as a bell. This strange phenomena almost numbed the pain away as he struggled to find any kind of explanation. He was rather quick to blame Zim, since Zim was usually to blame for everything in his life.

That didn't make sense though…why would Zim do something to help him? Dib tried as hard as he could to find another answer, and yet no answers would come. He couldn't just accept it as some kind of blessing, because he was never blessed in any way. Extremely good things never really happened to Dib, so this made him suspicious.

Eventually Dib came to find that he could not focus on the matters at hand. He was far too tired for such mind-boggling things. His thoughts kept drifting back to the day's events instead of why he could see his hand in front of his face.

His brain argued that thirteen-year-olds didn't take naps, but this particular thirteen-year-old didn't care. Dib was exhausted and if he didn't sleep now he would be falling asleep in his supper tonight. It was their annual family night out, so he would be forced to attend. Personally, Dib felt that if his dad couldn't be bothered to be around most of the time, then he shouldn't bother dragging them out to dinner once a year. It usually interfered with his paranormal studies any way.

This evening he was not in the mood for otherworldly things as he headed for his room. Dib laid down, not bothering to change out of his torn clothes or get under the covers at all. He told himself he was going to simply rest his eyes, but wound up falling into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

Carelessly, he rolled over in his slumber and let his hand gently touch a metal bedpost. With just that simple touch, blue sparks danced between the pole and his hand, blue sparks that would change Dib's world entirely.

(A/N: I'm baaaack. XD Incase anyone's wondering, I hit 23,608 words for NaNoWriMo. Now that that's over though, I'm back here like I said I'd be. : ) So how do you like it? Please R&R and I'll get the next chapter up soon. : ) )