A/N: This was inspired by my older fic, Because We Understand, which I reread and left me wondering if I might be able to write something a bit better several years on. I hope that it at least makes some form of sense; I was in a whimsical mood. That said, I am always reminded of the ridiculousness of serious IZ fics when the character list in the upload section has options such as Throbulator and Sinus...

Disclaimer: I own many things; my sanity and Invader Zim are not among them.

Stars and Fools

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Humans are strong. We live, we love, we die. Humans are also foolish. We close our eyes to truth, charge headlong into the glorious rush of insanity and delusion and then cry because the world feels too big and yet too small. And in those moments, when the world feels larger than the universe and our lives seem like guttering flames, we all surrender to a feeling. A feeling that we don't know who we are, that we have lost ourselves, that we never knew ourselves at all. And in those moments, the stars seem too infinite and an ache grows in our chests like lead birds pounding against cardboard cages.

In those moments, those beautiful, terrible moments, we cry for rescue, for strength, for relief. An idea flits through our minds; we grab at it, hold it fast in greedy hands and swallow fragile hope to kill the pulsing ache. All too often, the hope is false. It tricks and betrays us and yet the illusion it offers is sweeter than the truth.

This is how it is with us. This is how it is with him.

I think that he knows this. He knows that humans are as weak as they are strong, and as blind and stupid as they are great and wonderful. I think he knows this because he knows me. He knows that I am fool enough to defend a planet that thrives on false hope and still love it for it sheer strength in hanging on. And I think he knows that he is the fool of his people and yet still slaves for their glory; an Irken jester, dancing with cold metal bells and a wild laugh to a tune that does not exist. Neither of us will relent.

The years have passed. I have grown older and he has grown colder but in this ever-changing world, between us, nothing has changed. We have a retort for every insult, a jeer for every victory, a scream for every defeat. He builds spaceships, I build planes. We clash in the atmosphere, his skin fizzing from cloud, my lungs screaming for air, and in those glorious moments we collide like bullets and return, defeated, damaged and daunted. We build again and again, until the entire universe is our battlefield.

One brilliant, silver-washed day, as an alien star rises over an alien moon, I realise that I no longer know the way back home and he realises that the co-ordinates for Irk are untraceable in this milky sea. There is only us, nothing but us.

It is in this moment that our lives seem as vast as the universe, and we take again to the infinite skies with laughter that screams that we are strong, and that we will never again be fools.

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