***

"Someday we will become what we see

Cause anyone can start a conflict

It's harder yet to disregard it

I'd rather see the world from another angle." Jewel "I'm Sensitive"

***

It took three weeks for Zim to recover enough to be able to walk on his own. During the time he was bed bound, Spunk took care of him for the most part. Dib had taken ill and Gaz was constantly keeping up-to-date with the outside world. Consequently neither had much contact verbally with Zim other than sitting with him at night to make sure he didn't try to escape. It helped the alien in his recovery somewhat not having to be around humans so much. Oh sure, since Dib was sick he stayed inside the fort but he slept a LOT and only woke when his sister wanted to talk to him or his basic needs required to be met.

Spunk did not like taking care of him, that much became obvious to Zim. The little Irken rebel didn't speak much and only did so when it was absolutely necessary. He was doing this because Dib asked him to. Personally, he had told Zim, he'd rather have thrown him out. It was an understandable anti-sentiment. Irkens weren't exactly noted for being especially empathic with each other.

So he spent most of his days watching things happen around him. Gaz breezed in and out, reporting on such things as the weather, who made her phone ring today, what the laptop and radio were saying about the clean-up efforts 'back in the world.' Recovery and reconstruction was already underway in small towns. The government had ventured out of its ostrich hole in the ground and started taking control of things once more. One night, Zim overheard Gaz tell Spunk in the next room it would take at least ten to twenty years for civilization to be anywhere near the level it'd been before the war.

"That's not so bad," Spunk commented. "I mean, for you."

Zim imagined Gaz shrugging. "I guess. Be kind of nice to have things back the way they were right away." Silence. "You know, we've been at war for so long, I don't know what I want to do with my life. I've spent so much on trying to survive I haven't thought about what I wanted to do for years."

"Me neither." Spunk admitted after a respectful pause. "But see your option for that was always open. For me, it never was an option."

"But isn't it?"

"Yes." Spunk sounded somewhat excited. "The freedom this life on earth has given me is extraordinary! You couldn't possibly understand what it's like for me to be able to go where I want do what I want and be whom I want. Just saying whatever I want to beings taller than me I find constantly amazing."

Gaz laughed. Zim sat up a bit, wincing as he did. He listened to the sound and found he liked it MUCH better than screams of agony. It was kind of like music.

"Are you making fun of me?"

"No." Gaz burst out laughing again.

"Liar. You're making fun of me."

"I'm not. I swear." She kept laughing.

"Hey!" called Dib sleepily from the room across from Zim's. "There are people trying to sleep in here!"

Immediately the two quieted down. A few minutes later, they were laughing again. Zim laid his head down on the pillow and shut his eyes, trying vainly to block it out. He wished he could get up and close the door but his legs weren't up to the task. The door was all the way on the other side of the room too. A tap on his open door made him open his eyes again.

It was Dib. "Hey, do you mind if I crash here? My room doesn't have a door."

The alien made a casual gesture of permission. Shutting the door, Dib sank on the cot on the other side of the room. With the door closed the only light in the room now was the one coming from the kerosene lamp on the barred windowsill. Lying down, the human crossed his arms under his head. He stared at the ceiling.

Zim watched him. Sensing his eyes on him, Dib turned his head. Their gazes met.

Several beats passed.

Suddenly Dib sat up, propping his torso up by the elbow. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm . . . fine."

The lengthy reply made the human view him with worry. "It doesn't sound like it."

Long silence.

"C'mon Zim," Dib urged. "Talk to me."

Zim stared up at the ceiling. He did not reply.

He heard the bedsprings creak when Dib got up and his footsteps as he crossed the room. His heart began to pound faster and faster. A weight settled at the foot of his cot. Opening his eyes he turned on his side away from the human, kind of assuming a fetal position beneath the sheets.

"Is it bothering you?" Dib sounded concerned. "We've got some painkillers you can take."

Slowly Zim shook his head and hugged his abdomen. A thin whimper escaped him even though he did his best to wrestle it back. When Dib gently made him turn over he didn't protest. Since the bandage was under the uniform, he had to undo it. Deeply embarrassed, Zim pointedly made his face stony and set his jaw. Dib was the only one of the three here he let touch him in this manner. It made for one hell of a pride killer every time.

"Well, it's not bleeding through the gauze," Dib commented while covering the alien back up. He pulled the covers over him again. "Have you tried walking today?"

Zim nodded.

"And?"

"I fell."

"Ouch." Dib made a sympathetic face. "You'll get better." I hope, he added silently.

Zim finally made eye contact. Thinking for a second, he blurted, "Why are you doing this?"

Dib just smiled. "Because I want to."

Zim struggled to sit up and made it. He tried to hide how wretched he felt but his daily façade of superiority was gone. Tiring from the mere effort of holding his head up, he collapsed against his pillow. "Dib . . . I . . ." he trailed off. His heart was pounding again. "Am I . . . what's going to happen to me?"

Dib shrugged and lay down beside Zim, exhaling slowly. "Well," he replied at length. "If you stay here, we'll need to turn you over to our military. The whole planet will want to have you tried for everything you did." Pause. "If you leave, well, that's kind of a double whammy. The rebels wandering around out there would hunt you down." He glanced at the alien. "What do you want to do?" he asked quietly.

"I . . . I want . . ." Zim started and trailed off. "I want to die," he finally said.

Dib sat up some and looked down at him. His eyes asked.

The alien shook his head. "Living like this . . . how life is going to be because of this. I couldn't live with it." Softly he whispered, "You should have killed me."

Dib dipped his chin down. The body language said it all.

"What's the point of rubbing it in any further?" Zim demanded. "Look at me. I'm in pieces. I'm in ruin. I've been utterly defeated." He got more and more upset. "You know how Irken society is. Don't you understand that this invasion meant everything to me? It was MY LIFE, Dib. It was . . . . everything." Bringing down his fist he deliberately punched himself in the wound. He went for it again and like he predicted, Dib caught his wrist.

"Don't do that."

"I will do as I please, Dib-worm," he growled snatching his hand back. He tried to do it again and Dib grabbed both of his arms. The human was incredibly strong and his grip was a vice. Trying to pull away, he whispered, "I'm the one who broke you, I broke you and you told me you'd kill me. You lied to me. You LIED."

"Yes." Dib admitted, letting him go. "I did lie. But . . . listen, you've got understand something. I've wanted to kill you for so long, the more I wanted to do it, the less likely it seemed if I ever got the chance, I'd take it. Intellectually, yes, I believe you had what's happened to you coming for a long time. Except," he put a hand on his forehead, "I think you deserve a second chance. I think if you really wanted to, you could change. Besides," he chuckled, "you just lied to me too."

"I did not."

"Yes, you did." Dib told him. "You said the mission was everything. It wasn't." He eyed him. "I think we both know what I'm talking about."

Zim lowered his eyes. "Yes."

Hey, light at the end of the tunnel buddy. "I have a little idea." Dib appeared thoughtful. "It has a maybe fifty-fifty chance of working. If you decide to own up to Earth and allow them to try you in our justice system, I could petition to put you in my custody. You wouldn't be able to have any exclusive rights outside of what the court lets you do and your life would be in my hands. Basically you'd be . . ."

"Your property."

"Well, yes."

"I would belong to YOU." Zim mulled this over. The idea didn't hold. "I think I would rather be dead."

God, if you wanted to talk about being absurd. "Oh Christ, Zim, it's not as bad as you think. I'm not gonna make you my slave. Jesus, I'm not a kid anymore." Dib groaned, caught between being sadly amused and annoyed. "I've got news for you. The war IS OVER between us. We're not friends but we're not enemies either."

"Then….what are we?" Zim wanted to know.

Dib shrugged best he could lying down. "I guess something in between." He stopped, seeming to think about something for the longest time. "Wow," he finally said softly, in awe.

The alien turned on his side, peering at the human closely. "What?"

He only shook his head, the fascination in his expression plain to see in the dim to near pitch black room. "I'm just thinking about how much things have changed. It feels a million years ago. Everything's different." Sighing, Dib glanced at the alien. "Except you. You haven't changed a bit since I first met you."

Too true for comfort. Zim gave a half-smile. "Yeah…..but you have. A lot."

Dib frowned some. Was it him or did he just hear a hint of regret in the alien's voice? With his elbow he lightly nudged him the side. Tell me, it said.

He did. "You're going to keep changing too." He spoke very quietly. "Then one day you'll…… and I'll still be……" His voice caught. "Am I right?"

Sadly. The human man nodded. "Humans don't have very long life-spans. I've got maybe till I'm ninety - if I'm lucky." Pause. "Why? Does that bother you?"

No answer. Zim only clamped on his bottom lip. His claws opened and closed over the edges of the sheet, twisting the cloth between his fingers. It took him a few minutes to realize the alien was fighting back tears. God, Dib thought, he's really fighting it. "Zim?"

The alien blinked rapidly several times. "I want to try . . . . I want to do that thing you said."

"What thing? Oh." Performing a doubletake he filled with incredulity. "Wait, you want to turn yourself over?"

Nod.

Rather startled, Dib sat all the way up, getting a bit scared. Here was a new development he hadn't expected. This was not what he thought Zim would say. "You realize I might not be able to get that for you. They're going to want to push for something a lot harsher."

The alien thought. "If that's what your planet decides, I guess I'll have to accept it. I've been on trial before."

"You have? When?"

"It was before the war. When we still were going to skool. I got called back to the Empire. The Tallest tried to convict me for my past mistakes. Providentially the control brains overloaded and I got off." He shrugged when Dib raised an eyebrow. "I guess it's too much to hope for another lucky break for Zim, huh?" He tried to smile. It came out weak and pained instead.

When he said that, Dib realized with all the more conviction why the alien deserved to be given a second chance. Everything that was happening between them right now attested to that. Feeling torn again, he gave the alien an affectionate cuff across the head. Zim looked startled but then he did it back to his arm.

Sleep came as inevitability as night. How the daylight chose to shine the next day was out of their hands.

***

Prisons were depressing. They all somehow exuded the same exact atmosphere of bleak oppressiveness. The newly constructed prison in Washington D.C. for captives from the Irken Empire was no different from the usual prisons built for humans. If you wanted to count the decent mixture of alien guards and human receptionists as different then it was a small divergence.

A young man in a black trench coat felt the cold wash of the prison's inherent atmosphere the very moment he came through the front door. The first time he'd come to the soulless facility, he'd gone home shivering with strange nightmares he couldn't seem to shake for days after. Now though, being what would mark probably his thirtieth visit in as many as four months, it went through him without effect. In a long easy stride, he approached the brunette, twenty something receptionist.

She glanced up and flashed a pert smile at the spiky haired man. You would think she was working a dentist's office and not a prison. "Hello! Can I help you?"

He gave her a 'quit the crap' look. "Denise. Stop it already."

Denise handed him a clipboard. "All right. Don't need to get an attitude about it." She watched him put his name down. "How's it coming?" she asked softly.

"You'll know when you watch the news tomorrow," he said shortly. He handed the clipboard back to her. "Or tonight, since everyone seems to have an ear for this case."

So they've all heard. She nodded. Taking an opportunity she'd taken two months before with little success, she asked. "So can I ask you again or is your answer still the same?"

"The same." The young man with the unusual hair finally met her eyes through his round glasses. Seeing the disappointment, he softened the blow. "Look, it's not that I don't think you're pretty."

"Sure." Denise self-consciously removed a pencil from behind her ear.

"It's not a good time, that's all," he told her. Moving on to more important matters, he asked, "Is it the same room?"

"Of course," Denise replied coolly. "Where else they gonna keep him?"

Sigh. He hung his head. Why did women always get so cold every time he told one no? "Thank you," he replied with his own brand of ice and allowed the Irken guard she promptly buzzed for escort to lead him away.

***

The milky afternoon sunlight shone between the window bars, falling in long shadows against the opposite wall at a right angle, leaving the rest of the granite colored cell in a dark gray. At all other hours of the day the room never got any light except for at noon and only then at this particular, peculiar angle. The walls themselves were decorated with the scratch marks of previous occupants, their scriptures left behind for the next tenants to read, take meaning into and add their own claw made eulogies into the stone.

At first glance to an outsider, the room was empty. At least, that's what the outsider in question viewed when the heavy door to the room was opened. Stepping inside, he waited for the door to close and latch securely behind him. Then he consigned himself to look around.

The basic cheap but comfortable cot was overturned. The mattress was propped up against the wall, stripped bare of sheets, which were strewn around the floor in a twisted manner. Long claw marks shredded the mattress side facing toward the light; some stuffing hanging out and a spring could be visible.

In the corner of the room, sitting with his knees drawn and skinny arms draped casually around them, sat a small lime colored alien with magenta eyes that sagged and antenna that hung around his head limply. They pricked up when he lifted his eyes to his new visitor. Gradually he got to his feet and approached him.

"I see you've destroyed your bed again."

Face growing dark, the alien folded his arms and looked up at the much taller being. "Thank you for dispensing with the pleasantries this time."

Eventually the human got down on one knee to approximate his height. "It's been a while, Zim."

"Yes." Zim took his time. "I haven't seen you for a month." He looked up hopefully. "Does that mean they've….?"

Dib nodded, running the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip. His eyes remained downcast.

"Well?" the alien ventured eagerly. "Do not keep Zim in suspense."

"The appeal . . . didn't go through." Dib struggled through each and every word. Deliberately he kept both eyes on the ground. "I tried to get another one but the judge rejected me this time. He said . . . . he said the vote was unanimous." Forcing himself to look up, he said quietly, "I tried, Zim. I'm sorry."

The alien stared at him for a long time, trying to comprehend what he'd just been told. Then his face twisted in anguish and ferocity. The next thing Dib knew was Zim had rammed him in the chest, making him fall back on his bottom. Supporting himself with his hands, he watched the small alien pound on his chest with his tiny fists. Rather than defending himself, he let him do it.

The last punch was weaker and in delivering it, his little body slacked. Sliding off he went back to the corner and slid back down the wall. Burying his face in his knees, Zim became very still. When Dib came and sank in beside him, he didn't object and he didn't move away.

"I never told you I'd be able to do it, Zim," Dib sat gently but firmly. "Remember I did tell you that it was possible we'd lose. You agreed to the risks. You knew that."

Zim nodded without lifting his head. He looked up, staring straight ahead, his eyes shinier than they usually were.

"I did try," Dib insisted, almost pleadingly. "Jesus, I pulled out every stop in the book for you. I got you a defense. I even argued the way your own society was more at fault than you were for what happened. Goddammit, you have no idea what kind of hell I've been going through for you out there. I've lost the respect of practically every person on the planet!" He grunted angrily and rammed the wall behind him with his elbow. "It's like fucking black-listing all over again. I have zero credibility and I've lost all my connections and friendships. The only three people sticking by me are my dad, Gaz and Spunk. But other than that . . . I'm alone."

"And it's all because of you," he added without a hint of anger. "Again, all because of you."

He stood again and made his way to the door and knocked. Bracing the frame with both hands, he stood there and waited for the guard to open it. He kept his back to Zim because he didn't want him to see the tears running down his face. The door opened.

"I love you," he heard the alien say behind him very softly.

There was a long pause. Without turning around, he replied, "I love you too."

Dib stood outside the closed door. He shut his eyes and sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets; heading toward the exit. Gradually he slowed and came to a stop.

"Like I said," Dib said to himself as a grin began to spread, "everyone deserves a second chance."

Picking up the pace, he hurried. Taking out his cell phone, he dialed. "Hey Gaz," he said when she picked up. "You in mood to do something really dangerous and stupid?"

"Always."

He smiled.

***

THE END

***