Author's Note:

This is an old story of mine, originally written between 2002-03. I have consistently gone back to edit, but it is now, at last, complete. I wanted to, in this year (the tenth anniversary of the original show), share it, at last, online. Parts two and three to come, as well as its more massive sequel.

-Invader Zim is -c- Jhonen Vasquez.-

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

-All musical credit is given at the end of the document.-

~Jizena~

Time Warp Factor Five

Part One

I am not a heroine. Just putting that out there so you don't get disappointed by my inherent lack of leading lady qualities. I've been a lot of things lately; I wouldn't call 'heroic' one of them, even though my brother might disagree. He's the reason I'm writing in this stupid journal at all, by the way.

Here's what I am: a ten-year-old girl with a broader vocabulary than any of the teachers in my school (I'm in fourth grade and read things college English majors need to); a video game addict; intolerant of assholes and the preppy crowd; a Goth; a second—and youngest—child; I'm artistic, and prefer to be alone; finally, lately, I'm a little confused about what life's been handing me, and what to do now. Hence, the journal. It's okay, I guess. I have a lot to write about.

Anyway. I'm all that, but not a hero.

My older brother's nemesis is the hero.

Wow—it's harder to write about him than I thought. I haven't even written his name yet. That's sure to make me feel all kinds of weird. It's just the whole... after thought thing. How to move on after everything that just happened. How to go back to whatever 'normal' is. It's tough. And I can deal with a lot.

I feel like I'm pitching a movie, talking (well, writing) about the things that transpired. And, I mean, it all did happen. This was a real week of my life, not some dream I had. The unopened gift on my nightstand proves it. So do my brother's eyes.

My older brother (by a little less than a year), Dib, and I—name's Gaz—both grew up with light brown eyes. His are nearsighted and mine abhor the sun. Our dad has brown eyes, I think—if I'm remembering right. Mom's were green, like real emeralds. I always kind of wish I'd gotten Mom's eyes. I more or less have her hair, though... mine's a slightly darker shade of purple than her's was (yes, natural purple). I'd call mine violet; hers was lilac. Our mom was from Finland, or at least that's what Dad told me, once, before he stopped talking about her. Dad's from Massachusetts originally, but spawned, I'm convinced, from insanity.

He's a mad scientist. I mean it. He's a scientist—mostly an inventor, but I think his degrees say he's a chemist and physicist—and he's pretty certifyably insane. If memory serves, he hasn't always been this crazy. Sure, he always was quirky and odd (a trait passed to my brother, for sure), but not always this neglectful of us, and not quite so... extreme. Is Dad ever extreme. He wears a lab coat every hour of the day, one with a high collar so I haven't seen his mouth in years, and on top of that, he wears goggles that block view of his eyes. Technically speaking, I haven't seen my dad since I was three. Over the past few years, Dad has also developed this weird speech pattern that he didn't always have. He speaks like he's always announcing something on TV. My dad, Professor Membrane, is an enigma. He's a really popular icon, and, as a result, spends more time inventing things and doing things "in the name of science!" on his eponymous television show than he does at home. Dib and I are used to it, though, and, until recently, have been just fine doing our own things.

We only recently really realized what being siblings was all about. Which is something I'll get to later, as I keep writing.

Man, recounting this stuff is weird. I feel like I'm just a girl who was literally dragged into someone else's war. My telling of the story you have unfortunately decided to read is most certainly not a glorious anecdote of mine, is not a grand retelling of past events. Rather, I tell it as it is. That I am writing this is absurd, but I will write it nonetheless. Keep in mind, also, that I am as much a storyteller as I am a heroine, so expect no certainty of this being even remotely "good."

That said, I suppose I'll begin.

First off, let me say, we are notalone. Not that I care, but it's true. Far beyond the reach of even the most powerful telescope, there lies a highly technologically advanced planet called Vort. Vortian scientists are probably the only organisms in the universe who know what the hell they are doing. They are, however, in the service of another planet.

That planet is Irk, and the root of all my problems. Irkens live under a height-based dictatorship, ruled by the Tallest of their race. Currently, the Irken empire, under the rule of two Tallest, Red and Purple, is focused primarily on galactic conquest, in a project known as Operation Impending Doom II. The best of the Irken soldiers were sent to enemy planets to conquer and claim them for the empire. These soldiers are aptly named: Invaders. The best of the best.

Not all Irkens are Invader material, and not all Irkens are very bright. One such Irken was 'sent' to our planet.

His name is Zim. Yep. Writing his name feels weird. Zim is a quick-witted, hot-tempered, red-eyed Irken, and not at all in the Tallests' favor. He's a failure at practically everything, but is stubborn and persistent enough to keep trying, convinced that he'll rule the Earth and perhaps be Tallest himself one day. He can dream if he wants, but I think a part of him knows that it's never going to happen.

Nice choice of words, Gaz. A part of him? Yeah, and I know exactly which part.

At Zim's side is a scrap-metal robot called GIR. GIR is, to put it bluntly, insane. He is the complete opposite of a true Invader's partner, and will even listen to a human if Mexican food is involved.

Right on Zim's trail is my brother, Dib. Dib is obsessed with the paranormal, and the only human, aside from me, who knows who and what Zim really is. Dib is a fifth-grader (like me, comprehends at the college level), with hereditarily spiky black hair (I say spiky, and I really mean it: both he and Dad have this weird thing about wearing a good bit of their hair really long, and spiked up in a scythe-like shape at the top... no, I don't know how they do it and I kind of don't want to) and a bit of an ego, which shines from his eyes right out through his circle-rimmed glasses, and which he accentuates with an annoying grin. Oddly enough, Mom had that grin, too, but it didn't bug me on her. When she grinned, three-year-old me knew she was up to something good.

I've no idea what happened to our mother. Dad doesn't even keep her picture around. Dib and I learned early on not to mention her, since Dad finds the subject… well, I don't know, really, but it gets him all worked up.

Anyway, that's not important right now. What is important is… the reason I'm telling this damn thing, I guess.

The Invasion began on March 30th, 2001. According to Dib's notes. GOD HE KEEPS THOSE LIKE CRAZY. It drives me nuts. He's always, like, "Gaz, at six-oh-three p.m. last Tuesday, I saw a werewolf feeding on a cow out at Truehart Farm, and—blahblahblah." Yeah, okay, Dib, and what the fuck were you doing out at a farm on a fucking TUESDAY? Anyway. Zim and Dib have been at each other for almost a year and a half now, and neither of them has made much progress. This August, however, a lot was about to change.

It was the last day of summer. Dib and I had been loitering at the arcade, enjoying our last few hours of freedom. At about 7:30, the sky slowly started to darken. As if on cue, a couple of teenagers hurriedly kicked us out, laughing about God knows what, but I clearly heard the words 'curfew' and 'stupid little kids' in there. I quickly committed their faces to memory so that I could later hunt them down and chop their balls off. I smiled inwardly at the idea.

"I'm sick of that," Dib said abruptly, brushing himself off.

"Huh?" I said, snapping out of my thoughts as we started walking home.

"Teenagers," Dib answered in an irritated tone of voice. "I'm sick of teenagers—and adults—telling me what I can and can't do."

"Face it, they're morons," I growled.

"Yeah, and they deserve to be downsized," my brother agreed. "In a few years, Gaz, when I'm older—" he cracked his knuckles— "I won't tolerate that sort of thing."

"Look," I warned. "If you keep making me a part of these stupid conversations, it's debatable."

"What?"

"That you even live to be a teenager."

"Oh."

We kept on walking, in silence, for a while. It was fairly quiet for such a night as it was; only a few cars, some dogs, the occasional drunk hobo. And then her. I hadn't noticed it at first, but, as we neared the school, a blur darted past us. A cat. A black, sleek, red-eyed cat. No… a robot. MiMi.

I thought we'd seen the last of her that February. I've got to admit, I was caught off guard. Dib was, too, apparently. "What the—" he gasped in alarm as MiMi brushed by and stopped just a few feet away.

My gaze went from MiMi to the girl now standing beside her. No mistake. It was Tak.

Tak, a would-be Invader whose dreams were shattered by a power surge on the Irken military training planet, Devastis, decades ago; Tak, who hated Zim more than anyone could ever imagine; Tak, whose only ambition had been to become an Invader and 'reclaim' her mission, had returned.

Her purple eyes flickered and she folded her arms, passing very well as a human girl of around twelve, with indigo hair and a telltale beauty mark underneath her left eye.

"You…" she snarled. That was all. Just… "You."

"Tak?" said Dib unreadably. "What the—what are you doing here?" Tak simply scowled. During her last 'visit,' we pretty literally did battle with her. We even joined up with Zim to do it; he led us down into the bowels of his base of operations, in fact, such was his desperation to shake this Irken rogue. If Zim was disliked by the Tallest, Tak was utterly hated. She'd been banished and called a rebel and a menace more times than Zim had been called an idiot, as far as I know. Also, as far as I knew at this point, Zim had shaken her for good. Then again, his word never was much before. Hence, Dib repeating the question, "Seriously, what are you doing here? I thought you... uh..." He scratched his head, as if to jostle his brain. "What actually did happen to you?"

"That does not matter," Tak glowered, in her seemingly British accent; a biting, throaty alto.

Dib was unaffected by the comment. He rarely is. Affected by weird things weird people say to him, I mean. For a second, he even looked steadfast, resilient. His glasses glinted in the last of the evening sun, mirroring the flash that flickered from Tak's right eye to her left—a hypnotic, surely installed and maybe illegal, Irken ability of hers that had just as much impact in her hologram as it did when she appeared as she truly looked. "Tak, what are you doing here?" Dib asked again. Third time's the charm.

"Teaching you a lesson," Tak answered, "not to fool with me! Last time you got lucky, but this time…" There was a hint of elation in her voice, and she grinned.

"This time what?" Dib asked nervously.

"This time, I will get my revenge."

"You said you weren't after revenge."

"Well, I am now!"

"Hey," I interjected. "How, exactly, are you gonna get revenge? Cuz if you're not even gonna explain it to us, I'm leaving."

"Gaz!" Dib shot. I snorted.

"Fine," said Tak. "If you must know…" she lowered her voice, "I am going to make you all horribly, horribly miserable."

"Huh?" was all Dib could say.

Tak rolled her eyes. "Last time, when you three somehow managed to get rid of me, I found my way back to Devastis. I hid there, so I wouldn't be sent away again, or have to face the unbridled humiliation of being a failure."

"How is that unbridled?" Dib chided.

"Shut up!" Tak snapped. "Anyway, while I was there, I found two discarded machine prototypes. I set to work, then commandeered a new ship so that I could try them out on you." Without warning (and in plain view of… well, no one, really), she slapped cuffs on my and Dib's wrists. "You take them off, you doom the world to your fate," she hissed.

"What the hell are these?" my brother demanded as the two of us fought to get them off.

"They're links to this," answered Tak, holding up a controller. "The Time-Warp Machine."

"Time Warp?"

"Yes," Tak said triumphantly. She was ecstatic, and overenunciating her words, as if that would make us think her plan was that much greater. "And because it is linked directly to you, it will only affect you. I'm sure it will be… entertaining."

"What're you going to do?" Dib demanded.

"I'm going to rewind your time," Tak said with a grin. "I'm going to make sure that you'll be much too young to be a threat, much to young to even know what's going on. And then, I'll destroy Zim."

"What?" I shouted. "That's stupid!"

"Call it what you want, little Gaz," said Tak, pushing a button on the controller. "But it's going to happen."

"Oh, no, it's not!" I said, approaching and slapping the controller out of her hands.

Dib picked it up and fiddled with the knobs, then got another idea. He freed himself of the handcuffs, and I followed suit; then the two of us rushed off as fast as we could.

"What have you done?" Tak screamed after us. "Time Warp Factor… five?"

And then the controller blew up.

Dib and I raced home, trying hard to outrun the advancing wall of purple light being emitted by the controller.

"Why the hell did you do that?" I shouted as we ran up the walkway and into our house.

"Well, what else could I do?" Dib covered.

I just groaned and stomped my foot, then stormed upstairs into my room. The purple light crept through the window and I suddenly felt very tired and sore, so I flopped onto the bed and immediately fell asleep.

– – –

I awoke the next morning feeling strangely recharged. I yawned and swung my legs over the side of my bed, ready to just leap off and haul myself to school.

Only…

…my feet touched the floor.

I looked down, aghast, and my eyes widened. My feet were touching the floor! My legs were longer, as were, I realized, my arms and torso!

I stumbled out of bed and ran into the bathroom to look in the mirror. An older version of myself stared back at me. I couldn't believe it. I slapped myself—hard—across the face so I'd wake the hell up.

I didn't.

So I did the next thing that came to mind. I screamed. God, how I screamed. I took a breath to look in the mirror once more. I noticed that I was now wearing a long black shirt and skull-print pajama boxers, and that my hair was tied messily back into pigtails, and just how tall I was, and that my ears were pierced and… I just knew something hadn't felt right! Though obscured slightly by the shirt, I could definitely tell that I was… well… not flat… anymore.

And I screamed again.

This time, it was echoed by a startled yelp from my brother, a thud, and then footsteps racing down the hall.

"Gaz?"

My brother's voice… yes, but it was just a little lower, almost mature, but it cracked ever so slightly, as though trying to find a medium.

"Holy shit," I managed to say, stumbling backward a bit. It was then that I realized that even my voice had changed somewhat. "Dib?"

He nodded, but looked just as disoriented as me.

He was now nearly six feet tall, and, though having a fairly thin build, seemed very physically strong. His shoulders were broader than I'd have expected him to grow into, and his face, suffice it to say, just did not read 'eleven' to me. His cheekbones were higher set, his chin a bit more square; he wore differently-shaped glasses, too... thin ovals framed his eyes, rather than seeing them hidden behind raccoon-like full circles. Unlike me, he was completely dressed, very similarly to the way he normally did: a long black trenchcoat, this one with a high collar and an undone buckle round the neck, open over a dark blue shirt and black jeans (I'm pretty sure the jeans were new; usually Dib wasn't one for denim), all coming down to a pair of calf-high, twice-buckled, steel-toed black boots, which may or may not have been adding to his unbelievable new height. His hair was a tad longer than before, and kept in its scythe shape atop his head, but, all in all, it was undeniably Dib standing before me.

"Yeah," he said. "It's me."

"What…" I began, "the hell… happened?"

"I have no clue."

"NO CLUE?" I repeated. "Look, you're the expert on weird stuff like this! You tell me what happened right now!"

"I really wish I could," he admitted.

"Well, what should we do?"

"I don't know."

"You're not good for anything!" I spat, pushing past him and down the hall.

"Wait!" he hollered after me. I spun around and almost tripped. "We could ask Dad for—"

"When?" I retorted. "He's never home!" I flung my hands up in the air briefly and continued with, "Why not go ask Tak? Or that stupid Zim? Or how about I jump out a window and die?"

"WHY?"

"I… DON'T… KNOW!" I shouted. "Because my life is hell, that's why!"

"Oh…"

And we just stood there in silence for a while, staring at each other, blinking occasionally. Dib coughed uncomfortably, and I scratched a nagging itch on my right arm. We two are no strangers to odd things happening, but very little had ever happened to us physically... especially something like this. Everything pointed to the obvious: we'd aged a few years overnight, and this was obvious since, clearly, neither of us had any memory of anything after we'd gotten home from our run-in with Tak.

"Well…" we both finally said.

"I'm… gonna go… get dressed," I decided.

"Sure," said Dib, clearing his throat again. "I'll just… um… wait… downstairs, I guess."

"Mmmkay," I said before heading towards my room.

Well, my wardrobe had changed, no doubt about that. I couldn't just pull out a simple dress and throw it on, nooo. I didn't even see any dresses in my closet. Nope. Instead, I settled for an okay substitute. I slapped on some deodorant and stripped, then noticed the previously nonexistent full-length mirror fastened to my closet door. I glared at my reflection, then down at the bra I seemed to be wearing, then back.

"At least they're small," I muttered.

After that, I took a moment to take in the rest of me. I looked fairly tall, I guess... well, tall compared to what I was used to, and average compared to how damn tall Dib was. My legs and arms looked really long and thin to me. Even my fingers were long and thin. And, damn it all, I looked like such a girl. Thin (I learned I was a size four) in body and face, long eyelashes, pronounced cheekbones, an acorn-shaped facial frame. Okay, fine. Of course I'll look like a girl, I am a girl, but that's where it stops, I told myself. You won't see this one showing off anything.

I lazily pulled on a grey shirt with sleeves reaching my wrists. I scowled at it and ripped—not cut, not rolled, not folded… ripped—the sleeves up to my elbows. Then I put on a smaller, black cover-up shirt over the bust area of the grey one. I then decided on a short—not micro—skirt, and, without bothering with socks or anything, I shoved my feet into some black boots I found on the floor.

I snapped on my necklace and put on a few purple and black bracelets on my right wrist, and a watch absconded by a black wrist band on my left, just for the hell of it. Leaving my hair up and my earrings as they were, I left my room and trudged down the stairs.

I looked around the living room; it looked just a little different. New TV, a new chair… that's about it. Huh, I thought. When'd Dad have the time to get new furniture?

Then, I heard my brother give a yelp from outside. He rushed into the house, pale as hell, slamming the door behind him and pressing his back against the door.

"What's wrong with you?" I demanded.

"Gaz," Dib panted, "there's something horribly wrong with the world!"

"Oh, you're just now figuring this out?" I chided, putting my hands on my awkwardly more defined—hips and glaring at Dib.

"No, I mean really,"he said, not even bothering to keep me going. "I mean it, Gaz! Look outside! Wait… no, don't. Let's just stay in for the rest of our lives!"

He paused to clear his throat in an attempted to stop his voice from cracking at random intervals. This gave me time to put my two cents in.

"Dib," I said, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"A lot!" he admitted. "I mean, look at me! What happened? Since when am I an inch shy of six feet tall, huh? Since when has my voice sounded like this? And since when have I owned a car?"

Before I could say "A what?" someone interjected.

"Since you turned sixteen, of course."

Dib was flabbergasted. "Since I—huh? What the—Dad?"

I spun around. Yep, it was Dad, all right, standing in the kitchen doorway. He didn't look too different… well, aside from the fact that there were several flecks of grey in his normally black hair.

I gulped and inched back a little.

Dib was speechless. He just stood there, backed against the door, teeth clenched, eyes wide in surprise. "What?" he finally managed to shout. "Have I been asleep for five years? When'd I turn sixteen?"

"Son," said Dad, "this is not a very good time for you to be insane."

"But—"

Dad shook his head. "School starts up for you two tomorrow, and you've only two years until you graduate…"

"GRADUATE?"

"…so you need to start taking responsibility, and start planning for college…"

"COLLEGE?"

"…because this is a very important time in your life, son, and you have no time for insanity."

"This isn't happening!" Dib cried, his hands flying to his head. "Tell me I'm not hearing this!"

Dad turned to me. "Gaz," he sighed, "I often get the feeling that you should be the older sibling. Why, even when you were kids, I—"

"Hold on," I said. "Dad, can't you… uh… don't you know that something's wrong?"

"What? Oh, no… the formulas! I knew it all along! Damn those weasels…"

"No, wait! Not that! I—"

Too late. Dad had disappeared into the laboratory downstairs. I slapped a hand to my forehead. "God…" I muttered.

Dib approached me. "Told you there was something wrong," he said.

"Yeah. I thought school started today."

"I mean about not just us changing!"

"It's called 'sarcasm,' idiot," I snorted.

"Well..." said Dib, "this isn't very funny. Come on, I've gotta show you a few things."

I rolled my eyes and followed him outside. The sun was a little too bright for my liking (which is to say at all), so I blinked a few times to get my eyes adjusted while making a mental note to cave and buy sunglasses one of these days. Eyes open... there we go... and that was when I realized that my brother was right, and I had to admit it.

Our street had a few more houses on it, and a new road was under construction not far off. There were cars I recognized, and some models I'd never seen before. Worst of all, nobody looked familiar. Nor—and this was far more disturbing—did they seem to think anything was wrong.

"God..." I said.

"I know."

"But..." I began, still staring. "Why hasn't anybody noticed that something is wrong?"

"Because," said a voice from above us. "To them, it's normal. Nothing is amiss."

We looked up into the branches of a tree—which had also never been there before—to see, perched among the leaves, a girl of about seventeen, with violet-indigo hair, matching eyes, and a damn-all familiar smirk. She leapt down from the tree and stood before us, back straight, chest (a good two cup sizes on me, I'm guessing) out and well in my brother's view, head high and pointed chin up. Her eyes flashed, and I noticed the beauty mark under her left eye.

"TAK?" Dib gasped.

"Is that the only way you're ever going to greet me, Dib?" asked Tak, grinning.

"But you—you're tall!" Almost as tall as he was, actually... I'd say he had about an inch on her, but it's hard to tell, with Dib's hair, and my hazy memory of the early part of this ordeal.

"No shit," said Tak, raising an eyebrow. "Rather ingenious, don't you think? I've modified my hologram to give the illusion that I'm taller than I truly am."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, amazing," Dib said, unimpressed. "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" Tak smiled. "You did. You just had to get in the way, and because you did, well, congratulations… you warped time."

"WE WHAT?" Dib and I shouted simultaneously.

Tak laughed a bit. "And because it was you who did it, only you think you're out of place."

"Think?" I stammered.

"You mean we're—" Dib added.

Tak got right up into Dib's face and smirked. "You just aged five years in the course of one night," she said.

"You mean I'm actually sixteen?" Dib yelped uncomfortably.

"As far as everyone else is concerned, yes."

"Wait," I cut in. "How come you know what happened?"

"For one thing, that machine was mine," Tak said, standing erect and folding her arms. "For another, I'm Irken."

"So?"

"So, whatever happens here does not concern me, nor does it affect me in any way."

"Then… Zim..?" Dib wondered aloud.

"Ugh," said Tak, rolling her eyes. "He's too stupid to realize anything's wrong, but go ahead. Ask him for help. Of course, when I'm through with him, he'll be of no use to you."

"What are you going to do?" asked Dib, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you'll see," Tak purred unreadably. She turned to leave.

"Hold it!" I said. "Can we fix this?"

"In theory, yes," answered Tak as she walked away. "But, your chances of defeating me this time are slim to none."

Dib and I looked at each other, then ran to catch up to Tak. "Give us a straight answer!" Dib ordered.

Tak turned around quickly. "Fine. I've one thing to say to each of you." To me, she said, "You're going to fall first." Then, to Dib, she said, "And you have deserved this for quite some time now." With that, she slapped him, hard, across the cheek.

"OW!" Dib exclaimed, rubbing his cheek. "Why did you—wait… how did you do that? It actually hurt!"

"Like I said," Tak grinned, "it's a really good hologram."

She turned on her heel and walked briskly away.

"Well, this sucks," I observed.

Dib said nothing, but kept a hand on his stinging cheek. After an awkwardly silent moment (a damn long moment), I started walking in the direction of town.

"Gaz!" Dib called after me, finally dropping his hand to his side. "Where are you going?" He took a few quick strides, then walked by my side.

"Arcade or something," I said with a shrug. "As far as I'm concerned, I've got another day of summer, so why not?"

"Are you insane? Gaz, we're not supposed to be here!" Dib sputtered, clearing his throat afterward.

"Yeah, I know. We can fix it later."

"GAZ!"

"Okay, fine!" I gave in, getting irritated. "The morning is mine, you get the afternoon."

"Wait, what?"

"We compromise. Until lunch, we go with what I say, and after lunch, I'll let you drag me along to wherever. Okay?"

Dib looked at me and blinked.

"What?" I demanded.

"You're… suggesting a compromise?" Dib said, a bit confused.

"Well," I covered, "don't get used to it. It just seems necessary… you know, given the circumstances."

The truth: I was scared shitless. All I wanted was to get the hell back home. Of course, there was a part of me that was enjoying it. So, we compromised. That was that. As we began our walk into town, I began to notice more and more changes in our once-familiar excuse for a city.

"Jeez," said Dib, obviously thinking the same thing. "All this in just five years?"

"It's a longer period of time than you think," I pointed out. "I mean… just look at us."

"Yeah, true," Dib agreed, clearing his throat. "Man, this is annoying!"

"What?" I asked. "The voice thing?"

"Yeah. But, it's understandable, I guess. I mean, five years in one night." We both cringed. "It stands to reason that my voice would be the last aspect to catch up. I'm sure it'll level off soon enough."

"Yeah, well, I don't wanna stay here too long," I admitted. "Once we figure out what the hell is going on, we can kick Tak's ass and stop... whatever it is."

"Well, I know one thing is inevitable," said Dib.

"Oh? What?"

"The ass-kicking part."

I grinned at that. I had to. Truth to tell, I was a lot more tolerant of my brother when we both played a part in some sort of situation, however insignificant my part was.

"Hey, Gaz," Dib said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"What?"

"What do you think she meant by 'you'll fall first,' or whatever?"

"Eh," I said unemotionally, shrugging it off. And then I tripped.

No, wait. I was tripped. And, damn, it was a longer fall than I'd expected, and it almost hurt. I looked up to see who it was I was about to kill.

"Huh," I muttered, looking up. "Tak. Figures it's you." I stood up, swaggering a bit, and brushed myself off. I stood at eye level with Tak, and she smirked.

"You're such an easy target," Tak laughed.

My fists clenched out of habit. "Tell me," I said, anger boiling up inside me. "That hologram… is it a solid illusion?"

"Of course."

"Oh, okay."

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. Just making sure it hurts when I do this," I said, raising my fists... and then I punched her square in the face.

"Ow!" Tak screamed, her hands flying to her face. "You bitch!" She scowled and straightened herself... and I struck her again. "Ow!" she screamed again. "Damn you!" Tak cast a disgusted look at me. Her eyes flickered, and she evanesced.

"God, she's annoying!" I spat, shoving my hands to my sides. "I'm gonna kill her!"

"Gaz, are you sure you don't want to do just a little bit of investiga––"

"No! Nice try, Dib, but the morning's mine."

Dib grinned nervously, trying to convince himself that it was just a joke, but he gave in, admitting defeat, and we kept walking.

My watch beeped. 8:00. School was officially in session. I decided to humor myself, and suggested we take the route into town that passes by the school. Dib looked confused, but shrugged, agreeing that, at this point, we really had nothing better to do. But then, just as I thought we wouldn't get anywhere in figuring anything out that day at all, things changed. I'm not saying they got better, I'm saying that they changed. That's honestly the onlyway to put it.

At about five past the hour, I heard yelling, and it got louder and louder the closer the yeller (yeller?) came.

"Move it! Move it! Outta my way! I'm late for school! Get outta the way! Move it!"

As Dib and I rounded a corner, the yelling abruptly stopped, and somebody slammed into my brother. Well, just his leg, really.

"Hey!" Dib said in alarm, looking down. "Watch where you're going!"

"You watch where you're going you stupid, inconsiderate––"

"ZIM?"

Indeed it was. Clad in his usual, yet pitiful, human disguise, Invader Zim stared up (even farther than he would have, since the collision had caused him to land on his ass) at my brother discerningly. "What business have you in addressing me in such a manner, vile teen-human?"

Yep. Another classic Zim insult. It's surprising that nobody but Dib caught on to him for using the word 'human' as a derogatory term. Then again, I even tend to do that at times, but still.

In any case, it was obvious that, due to the Time Warp, Dib was unrecognizable to Zim, and he took that to his advantage. Dib raised an eyebrow, then, in one swift motion, snatched the Irken up by the collar and held him at eye level.

"Hey!" Zim shouted in an irritated tone of voice.

Dib snarled and glared at Zim with piercing eyes. Zim struggled, trying to free himself, but Dib kept a firm grip around his adversary's neck. Since he still couldn't recognize my brother, Zim tried to writhe free in any way not involving his PAK. But Dib was much too strong for him, and didn't even flinch or move a single bit. He just kept staring at Zim.

"Look," he said coldly. "You can keep at that all day if you want, but I'm not even gonna consider dropping you until we have a semi-intelligent conversation."

Zim put both hands on Dib's wrist and grit his teeth, trying to force his way out of Dib's surprisingly powerful grip. "Put me down!" he demanded.

"Zim, we need to talk, dammit!" Dib spat.

"Shut up!" snapped Zim. "Shut up and let go of me!"

Dib clenched his teeth and tightened his grip.

"Ow!" Zim yelled. "Put me down, you stupid––" He cut himself off as he caught my brother's gaze. He stopped struggling and his eyes widened. "What the––DIB?"

Dib smirked. It was then that it hit me: he loved being like this. Sure, he wanted to get back to normal as much as I did, but he was really enjoying his new height, strength, and power, if you could call it that.

"DIB?" Zim stammered. My brother cracked; I knew he couldn't keep a straight face for long. Once Zim saw the light, Dib began laughing. Annoyed, Zim kept talking. "But, you're... why are you... how did... gah! Put me down!" Dib shook his head, unable to speak, since he was trying to calm his laughing fit.

Zim activated the spider legs in his PAK, but Dib just tightened his grip even more. "Retract those," he ordered, still grinning. Zim scowled, and my brother responded appropriately by not giving a shit and glaring right back. "Do it!"

Zim did as he was told, which has got to be the second most unexpected thing I have ever seen. I can't tell you the first, or I'd spoil the story. Ha, ha.

"If I put you down, are we gonna have a worthwhile conversation?" asked Dib.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Dib looked skeptical, but then let go, letting Zim fall several feet onto his face on the pavement. It was my turn to laugh. A stunned Zim picked himself up and brushed himself off. I leaned back against the fence behind us, and Dib folded his arms smugly, then cleared his throat. Zim got up on the spider legs so he wouldn't have to strain his neck in order to talk to us.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Did Tak have something to do with this?"

"How do you know?" I couldn't help asking.

"Tak contacted me last night," said Zim, keeping his cool. "Said you two had just interrupted some important experiment or something."

"Put loosely," I said.

Zim snorted. "Look, just because she's here again and just because you're temporarily taller than I am doesn't mean we'll be helping each other, I'll have you know."

"But you can't argue the fact that she has to be stopped," said Dib.

Zim shuddered. "No," he admitted. "Especially before she can… um…"

"Before she can what?" Dib wanted to know.

"Let's just say that what she did to you can't even compare with what she wants to do to me."

"Which is..?"

"I'm not telling you," Zim snarled defiantly. We stared blankly at him, and, after a moment, Zim cringed. "Okay, fine," he gave in. "I'm going back to my base. If you two are willing to put your lives on the line, stop by tonight. Tak's really serious this time. I'll be humiliated, yes, having help from you once again, but not quite as humiliated as I will be if Tak's experiment goes through."

"So we're in this together, I guess," Dib concluded.

"Better than living in hell," Zim said, retracting his spider legs. He cast a look at his PAK and sighed, then turned to leave. "I hate admitting this," he added, "but I'd need your help eventually anyway."

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"I can't tell you!" Zim snapped. "Just… meet me at my base tonight, okay?"

With that, he ran back in the direction from which he had come.

"Man," said Dib as we resumed our trek. "I've never seen him so paranoid. He must be really nervous."

Compared to that, my day was fairly uneventful. Dib let me blow a few hours at the arcade, but I, surprisingly, got bored of playing video games at about 10:30. Since neither of us was particularly hungry yet, we wasted a couple more hours simply wandering about the mall, trying to pick up on teenage activity and behavior so that we could do our best to pull of something believable at school the next day. Of course, most of it made me want to hurl. Girls with perfect nails and two-hour hairstyles hung off of boys whose disinterest in the activity of shopping went over the girls' heads. Conversations I picked up on ranged from food to sports to politics; most girls worried only about what was 'in,' and what had happened on some show the other night. I only watch a couple of TV shows, and the news. One show I do watch is my dad's. Makes me feel like he's at least a little part of my life.

We left the mall after I caught onto the reason some guys were staring at me. I'm used to people staring at me. I'm the only Goth in the school system, and one of the only girl gamers in town. I get weird looks. Whatever. Now, though, hormones hung in the air like a virus around a bunch of these jerks, and they stared at my butt, or my hair, or my waist, or my butt again. I grabbed Dib the hell out of there after the fifth guy actually made a pass, and considered hissing out, "I'm a lesbian," or something along those lines, but he wasn't even worth lying to. God, I hate people sometimes.

At a little past noon, we sat down to probably the best lunch I think I've ever had, which made up for the shitty morning. Normally, I'm not a big fan of Chinese food, but the new (new being Time Warp new) Chinese restaurant on the fun side of town had exceptionally good lo mein.

After lunch, Dib suggested we find a corner of the library where we could catch up on internet posts of 'current' events, plus to see if we could find out anything new about Tak. Aside from a presidential election and the homicide of an entire cheerleading squad, the news seemed pretty uneventful.

We gave up (got bored, honestly) and went home at about 3:00. Dad was working… of course. Then Dib got the crazy idea that perhaps he should have a go at driving, having found his license in his trench coat pocket earlier that day. So we went outside and I sat on the hood of the car, and I told Dib it was madness. Dib shrugged it off, and said that if he could pilot a Spittle Runner, he could probably drive a car.

I really couldn't argue that, so I got in and put my feet up on the dashboard. Dib, nervous as hell but eager as ever, revved up the car and laughed in spite of himself. I rolled my eyes and rolled down my window as he backed out of the driveway.

"Well," he gulped, "here we go."

"Dib, don't kill us," I pleaded.

He grinned, put the car in drive, and… well… drove. It was amazing! Dib was completely relaxed; it was a flawless ride! I felt myself laugh, and I stuck my head out the window like a dog, letting the wind whip through my hair. I can't believe I'm saying this, but my brother proved to be a great driver.

Since we were already in the car, we figured what the hell and took a drive around the city, then, ever so reluctantly, we arrived at Invader Zim's base. The looming teal 'house' with wires protruding from it and into its neighboring apartment buildings. The cul-de-sac in which it was placed was unassuming and eerily suburban. We don't live far away, but our long street feels different. Maybe because there's no alien base on it. The manicured lawn of the base, which was framed with a brown fence, was still littered with grotesquely oversized garden gnomes (in which were implanted cameras and lasers) as always, and the door bore its usual 'Men's Room' sign in place of a number.

Dib put the car into park and turned it off, and we approached the door. Dib hesitated to knock, then frowned and simply put a hand on the knob. Before anything else could happen, the ground beneath us gave way, and we fell several feet underground, through a series of tubes and tunnels, until we finally… uh… crash-landed in Zim's main lab.

"I've been meaning to do that," said Zim, obviously having been amused.

"Yeah, no one would've noticed that, Zim," Dib mocked the alien as he rolled his eyes. "Totally normal."

"My research on trap doors in human culture is flawless!" Zim's more-annoying-than-GIR assistant, a floating purple moose called MiniMoose, squeaked its approval.

We stood and brushed ourselves off. Dib muttered something along the lines of "Why are we here?" before we joined Zim at his computer.

"Well?" said Dib, folding his arms. "You called us out here. You tell us what's going on."

Zim glanced up, then huffily folded his arms. "Sit down," he commanded. "You're too tall."

I was about to comply before Dib refused, "No way. You want our help badly enough, deal with it, Zim." I glowered at him. He was enjoying his height a little too much. I'm sure he will once we actually get to these ages, too.

After an internal struggle and a loud groan, Zim activated his spider legs to talk to us. "All right," he said reluctantly. "Tak told me everything; her whole plan. Or, what she called the whole plan. There's obviously more. GIR! Get down from there!"

Zim's sad excuse for an assistant fell from the ceiling and, incidentally, onto my head. "Whoo!" cried GIR from his perch. "I gonna ride you like a moose!"

"Get off me!" I shouted, grabbing him out of my hair. "You have no idea how wrong that sounded!" I added as I let him jump out of my hands.

When GIR and the ever—uh, ever… [adjective] MiniMoose found something better to do, Zim sighed and continued.

"Anyway," he said, "Tak plans on… well… destroying me. Now, you might not care, but without me, you can't get back home."

"What?" I cried.

"Wait," said Dib, "Tak's gonna kill you?"

"I have no clue," Zim confessed. "All she told me was that my life will basically end on Friday."

"God," I said.

"What's today, anyway?"

"Wednesday."

"Damn!" Zim spat. "Listen, the thing is, we've gotta infiltrate Tak's base and fix everything before… whatever happens."

"On Friday, then?" Dib guessed.

"As long as I live through it, yeah," said Zim.

"You're actually scared of her, aren't you?" I chided, casting an evil look at Zim.

"Me? No," he covered, as though the thought was ridiculous. But he wasn't hiding it very well, I knew better. In a strange, microscopic way, I almost felt sorry for him, which scared me, since I hadn't ever felt much of anything but contempt of some sort for someone else.

Truth to tell, I could see a lot of myself in Invader Zim. If I were an Irken girl, I'd probably be just as confident and stubborn as he is. We actually had a frighteningly long list of things we have in common (figuratively, of course… God, I have a bit of a life), which is probably why I felt a little remotely sorry for him… because I'd hate to learn that someone had it in for me, and I'd hate it even more if I had to turn to my enemies for help.

Dib cleared his throat, breaking the silence that followed Zim's comment. I felt myself fall into a brief moment of embarrassment. Zim retracted his spider legs and slapped a hand to his forehead.

"I knew this was a bad idea," he groaned.

"Well, you have a long history of bad ideas," Dib put in.

"Shut up!" Zim spat. "Get out! Get out now!"

"But you––"

"OUT!"

So out we went. And out we stayed. I wasn't to return to that area until the following week. Ha, ha. Don't my foreshadowing skills just amaze you? Ugh. I don't know why I'm telling this story. I really don't. I'm not the main character. (It's even worse that my stupid brother talked me into typing this!) Oh, well. I've gone this far. I suppose I should keep writing.

The next morning, while I was taking a shower, I tried to shove the recollection of the previous night out of my mind. But I couldn't help wondering if Zim really was scared, or if he was just planning to use us in order to take Tak out by himself.

I was able to put that notion to rest long enough to concentrate on the matter at hand: school. According to Dad, I was in high school… and if Dib was two years away from graduation, that would make him a junior and me a… uh… oh, right… a sophomore.

Even more troublesome was just taking the stupid shower itself! Whenever I moved my arms in order to lather shampoo into my hair, my elbows would slam into the wall, and at one point, I hit my head on he curtain rod. A stream of obscenities poured out of my mouth, and my usual 10-or-so-minute shower turned into a 45-minute struggle. When I finally got out of the damned shower, I slipped on a bar of soap, and shouted more profanity.

Once dressed, I cast a look into the mirror and took note that my hair looked really bad when I kept it down (of course, it was wet at the time…), so I dried it crudely and stuffed it back into pigtails, grumbling all the while.

I grabbed my backpack from my bedroom floor and tore it open, relieved and surprised to find, crammed inside, the supplies needed to get me through the day. Not even bothering to close it, I swung the bag over my shoulder and walked downstairs.

Dib was just finishing what sounded like a very frantic and annoyed conversation with Dad, via videoscreen. I grabbed a muffin and leaned against the wall, listening intently.

"Dad, you can't keep using that as an excuse!" Dib was shouting. "For the hundredth time, I'm not crazy! When are you gonna figure that out?"

"Son, claiming that the space-time continuum has been tampered with is by no means going to get you through this year."

"But it has!" Dib protested. "And, for God's sake, Dad, when are you going to use my real name? Do you even know what my name is? What, did Mom just name us and leave?"

"Now, that is not a subject to be––"

"Of course it isn't! It never is! I'm sick of this! I'm turning off the screen! This conversation is over!" Dib grit his teeth in an irritated manner and turned off the floating screen. "God!" he yelled. "Why doesn't he ever let me talk? It's like a one-sided conversation!"

He finally noticed me standing there and sighed. "Sorry," he said. "All I can say is, the sooner we get back home, the better. I hate being sixteen!"

"And I hate booby-trapped showers," I said. "So we all have our problems."

Dib cast me a "What the hell are you talking about, Gaz?" look, then snatched up his backpack and said, "Come on. We might as well go to school. I'll drive you, if you want."

"Do you even know where the high school is?" I asked as we left the house.

"I've got a pretty good idea," Dib answered. I rolled my eyes and said nothing, and slid into the passenger seat of the car.

Okay, first and foremost: Dib was lying. Or he was just stretching the truth. Well, I don't want to argue that, but in any case, he did not have a 'pretty good idea' as to where the high school was! He had no idea! Neither did I, but that's not the point. The point is, it took us a half hour to find the stinking place. All I can say is, at least we got to the front doors at ten of eight, otherwise we would have been screwed.

The high school was a large, brick building, with absolutely no welcoming qualities at all. The outside was too dreary, the interior looked like a concrete-lined meat market, and the secretary was too perky. She had annoyingly light blonde hair and too broad a smile. I wanted to slap her as she gave me a copy of my schedule and sent me on my way.

The bell (which sounded about as musical as a braying donkey) rang, so Dib and I wished each other good luck and parted ways. I looked at my schedule: five periods a day, alternating every other day. My first class was Art, and conveniently located on the first floor.

My art teacher was undeniably flamboyantly gay. Maybe I could tell by his taste in clothing and his Garland-affected voice, or perhaps I could tell because of the way he was hitting on one of the boys in my class. I don't know. I'm not saying anything bad, I'm just saying he was kind of an acting stereotype. (A note: people who let themselves be stereotyped bug me. I refuse to be a stereotyped Goth. It pisses me off that my dad is a stereotypical mad scientist. We can't all be perfect, but for fuck's sake, try not to be a stereotype.) He welcomed us back to school and introduced himself as Robert, telling us not to bother with "any of that silly 'Mr. Saunders' stuff." He reminded me a lot, for some reason, of my old teacher, Mr. Elliot.

Well, all we did in art class was watch Un Chien Andalou and were given a Dalí assignment (report on one of his paintings). So that was an okay start. Saunders went up in my book after letting me watch a movie where an eye gets slit open.

I looked at my schedule: Physics. Dear Lord! What compelled me to take physics? I made a mental note not to actually sign up for physics when I got to high school. Assuming, of course, that we actually got back.

Anyway, the physics teacher was Mr. Paisley, and he was obviously born without a personality. Sitting through his class was worse than… well, just about classmates found ways to amuse themselves; I just had about 75 minutes of writing "I hate this" over and over in my notebook, occasionally trying it with my right hand to se if I had the potential to be ambidexterous. I didn't.

Paisley gave us some vocabulary worksheet or something for homework, and then the bell rang. Thank God.

Checking my schedule, I noticed that third period was Spanish 2. Great. An already shitty day made shittier by being forced to learn another language.

The Spanish teacher was Mrs. Sigovia, but she made us call her Señora Sigovia. She was very passionate about the language––almost too passionate… she hardly said anything in English. She was instantly worse than Paisley, and more of a stereotype (SHE WAS WEARING A FLAMENCO SKIRT, OKAY?) than Saunders.

No homework, though, which was good.

Then lunch. Thankfully, I was able to find Dib, who said that this was probably the worst day of his life. I couldn't blame him. He gave me a run-down of his teachers, all of whom seemed just about as charming as the rest of the adults I'd run into in this concrete hell. Suddenly, Mr. Elliot's sunshine and sparkles third-grade kiddy purgatory seemed pretty alluring.

Fourth period was Advanced Algebra. I drew a pig. Fifth period was American History. I drew a pig hanging himself.

So, I left the high school that afternoon with art homework, physics homework, math homework, and a pounding headache. I waited at the front of the school for my brother, as far from the line of busses as possible. At 3:05, Dib burst out of the building with a frantic look on his face. "Get away from me!" he shouted, still running.

Nanoseconds later, a brown-haired girl came out of the building and latched herself onto Dib. "Come on, Dib, pleeease?" she begged, grinning and revealing the braces on her teeth.

"No!" Dib choked, trying to pry her arms away from his neck.

The girl loosened her grip and rested her head on Dib's shoulder lovingly. "Please, Dib, let me be your date for the Homecoming dance? Please?"

"For the last time, Gretchen, no!" Dib said forcefully. "And get off me!"

"Awww, why not?" Gretchen pouted.

"Because!" said Dib, freeing himself and spinning around to face the annoyance.

"Because why?" Gretchen asked huffily, putting her hands on her hips. "You're not going with another girl, are you? That's unfair!"

Dib slapped a hand to his forehead. "Look, Gretchen, I am not your boyfriend, okay? When are you going to figure that out?"

"But you could be!" said Gretchen, hopefully. "Come on, Dib, please?"

Dib sighed. "I don't think you understand. I––"

"I bet you're gonna ask Tak, aren't you?" Gretchen cried. "You're so insensitive! Am I not good enough for you, Dib? Huh?"

"No, Gretchen, it's not that, okay?" Dib said, choosing his words carefully. "It's just that... um... I'm... going out of town that weekend."

"Oh! Well why didn't you say so!" Gretchen hugged Dib enthusiastically, then skipped down the stairs and away from the school.

"For crying out loud," Dib muttered.

"What was that all about?" I asked, snorting.

"Oh, hey, Gaz," said Dib. "God… she's been asking me since fourth period study hall to take her to some stupid dance."

"Like you'd be caught dead at a school dance anyway," I put in as we walked to the car. Dib laughed and threw his backpack into the trunk; I did the same, then got in.

"So," said Dib, starting up the car, "how was your day?"

"It sucked," I answered. "I hate high school."

"At least you don't have anyone hounding you and begging you for a date."

"True," I agreed.

There was a brief silence until we got onto the main road. Then, Dib said, "I had a class with Tak today."

A chill went down my spine. "What'd she say?" I asked cautiously.

"Not much," Dib answered. "But she's really pissed at us. She said that if we get in her way again, she'd kill us."

"You think she means it?" I wondered, my voice shaking.

"Well, she sounded pretty serious," said Dib nervously, "but I'm not sure she'd ever actually kill anybody."

"You mean you hope that she'd never actually kill anybody."

"I don't know."

"Hey," I asked, "did she say anything about Zim?"

"Well... I sorta found out," Dib answered solemnly.

"Found out what?"

"What she wants to do to him."

He paused and fished a recorder out of his trench coat pocket. "I kept this with me today in case I did speak to Tak," he explained. "I hope it's coherent…"

Dib handed me the recorder, and I pressed 'play.'

"What are you talking about?" Dib's voice came from the recorder.

"Well you see, Dib," said Tak on the recorder, "when you managed to beat me last time, I realized something. Zim is rather… tolerant toward humans."

"Say what you want; he hates us."

"Say what you want; he doesn't."

"Where are you going with this?"

"If I told you, that would take all the fun out of it."

"A hint, then?"

"Fine." Tak laughed. "I'm going to… how shall I say this? Replace his PAK."

"With another PAK? That's stupid!"

"Oh, no, Dib. With something much… much different."

"Jeez," I said. "Replace that… thing on his back?"

"Yeah," Dib replied. "But I don't know what else Irken body chemistry could possibly withstand."

"You're not making any sense," I told him flatly.

"Yeah, well..." A red sports car screeched in front of us, and Dib slammed on the breaks. "Watch what you're doing, you crazy asshole!" he shouted, immediately cupping a hand over his mouth after doing so. I stared at him wide-eyed. "I did not just say that…" he said slowly, putting his hand back on the wheel. "I didn't mean to say that…"

"Well, it's not like anybody heard you," I offered.

Dib cleared his throat but didn't answer. He just drove in silence until we got home. Once inside, he leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands. "I can't take this anymore," he muttered. "All this talk of SATs and college has made me so temperamental… I can drive perfectly… once my voice levels out, what then? Succumb to an actual teenage mind frame? Forget that I'm not supposed to be here? Damn it! My life sucks!"

"Your life sucks?" I yelled, also getting a little overwhelmed. "What about mine? You're the one who got us into this mess in the first place!"

"Me? You were the one who disarmed Tak!"

"Yeah, and you're the one who messed with her stupid little machine!"

"And you're the one who––"

The phone rang.

"You get it," I said, not taking my eyes off of my brother.

"You get it," he retorted.

"You get it!"

"Why don't you?"

"Why not you?"

"Shut up and answer the phone!"

"You answer it!"

"You!"

"You!"

"You!"

"You!"

"FINE!" I screamed. I stormed over to the phone and picked up the receiver. "What?" I demanded.

There was insane, high-pitched laughter coming from the other line.

"Who is this? What's your problem?"

"SUCKMUNKEY!"

"Stupid robot!" I shouted, recognizing the caller as GIR. "Never call here again!" With that, I slammed the receiver down and announced, "I'm going upstairs."

"Fine."

I turned on my heel and stomped up to my room. I slammed the door closed behind me, grabbed my GS2, and turned on my stereo. I flopped down on my back onto my bed and kicked off my boots, then started up the video game.

Video games are so relaxing. They promote intuitive thinking, not to mention the fact that they can clear your mind of everything else. When playing a video game, time is meaningless. I didn't care about any stupid space-time continuum. As far as I was concerned, it was just me and the game.

I must have fallen asleep soon afterward, for I woke up from a dreamless respite period at about 9:00 PM. I rolled over onto my stomach and looked out the window. The sky was black and clear, and a soft wind whistled through the trees.

I sighed. A beautiful gothic rock song came on the radio. It was slow, with a violin undertone and a choir in the background. The lead voice was female, and she had an incredible, haunting voice that sent chills down my spine.

Unfortunately, I can't remember the entire song, and I'm sure now I'll have to wait a few years to hear it again, which sucks, but I do remember the chorus. It was something along the lines of: "Will you follow me? Close my eyes and sing for me/Follow me/Follow me..."

I laid back, my head on the pillow, and I listened to the song with my eyes closed. It was so beautiful; I never wanted it to end.

My innermost subconscious took the better of me, and I felt myself wishing that I could sing. I'd never thought about that before. What if I had talents that I never knew I had? What if I was being too brash in my outlook on life? What if I could sing?

I suddenly spotted a black guitar in the corner of my room. I set the GameSlave aside and walked over to it, picked it up, and sat, holding it, on my bed. I turned off the stereo when the song ended, and placed my right fingers on the frets, steadying the guitar with my left. I strummed the strings, and a chord escaped from the instrument. I grinned internally and brushed the strings again and again, moving my right fingers nimbly over the frets. The guitar emitted chord after chord, each one complementing the next.

Generally, even though I feel this shouldn't have to be mentioned by now, I'm into goth rock. Batcave, deathrock, industrial, and all the subgenres. Even some of the more modern stuff, you know, Evanescence and Lacuna Coil and all that (cue the music wars on what those guys are... are they metal? I don't know, I don't care, it's music...), but favorites obviously include Scary Bitches, Specimen, the Cure (shut up), Siouxsie, and our own local Goth legend: Melissa "Bloody Nails" DeSena (or just Bloody Nails Melissa). The chords my guitar was emitting sounded more along the Lacuna Coil line, so I went with it.

I laughed a little, silently, then found the chords to my favorite song of theirs: "Ode to a Dying Day." I struck the guitar's strings faster and faster to get up to tempo, then gathered the courage to sing softly to the accompaniment.

"Comes after the rain to please your eyes with all the colors that you cannot see, he came to save us," I sang in a ghost of a voice. "You will see…"

I smiled and let my fingers fly gracefully over the frets and strings, then tried the second chorus. "Standing aside, he's the savior of your only human part; you cannot see he came to save us. You will see…"

With rapidly growing confidence, I sang the choruses again, letting my voice get louder and louder. "Comes after the rain to please your eyes with all the colors that you cannot see, he came to save us. You will see… Standing aside, he's the savior of your only human part; you cannot see he came to save us. You will see…"

I must admit… I was in shock. It didn't matter that my voice was a little raw. I was expecting blandness but was pleasantly surprised with an acceptable mid-soprano (isn't that called mezzo or something..?); of course, I'm still judgmental of my own singing voice, but that isn't the point. The point is, it was at that moment that I realized how much more there was inside of me. I poured every emotion, every last worry, every last thought, everything into the music. I let it personify me, and I the music. I let the guitar move my fingers, not the other way around.

A voice I never knew I had forced itself out of the locked facets of my soul, and broke free, flowing out of me. It wasn't my voice, but one of another side of me that I had ignored for too long. Every year of my life, I'd been living as only a half of who I was. But here, in my room, in touch with myself and my music, I was finally whole.

I'd found myself, my other self, and from that night on, I was never quite the same. I had found a new escape… something that I shared with myself, and myself only.

I sang the song over and over, not wanting to stop. It was one of the greatest nights of my life, and I'll never forget it. I stayed up until midnight, finding new chords, playing song after song, letting my voice fill the room. I pushed everything else out of my mind and just let myself sing. When I finally did get to sleep, I knew only one thing: for the first time in my life, I was really, truly happy.

– – –

Well, Friday's shower was no better than Thursday's, so I won't bore you with the details. I dressed and had another muffin for breakfast, then grabbed my bag and met Dib in the car. "You know where you're going today, right?" I asked, attempting sarcasm.

"Yeah," Dib answered. "Hey, Gaz… I'm sorry for having such a short fuse yesterday."

"Me, too, I guess," I said.

Dib cleared his throat. "Hey," he began, "I heard you last night."

I blushed. "Oh," was all I could say.

"Don't worry… I won't tell anyone," Dib assured me. "But you sing really well, Gaz. Just wanted to tell you that."

And then, I said one of the few words I'd never said before. "Thanks."

That ended our conversation. It was a short one, but weird. Weird because Dib had complimented me on something that did not interest him. My brother doesn't like music. I'm the only one in the family who listens to music at all. It's strange. I have this vague, hazy memory of Dad having a record collection, and even a guitar. Mom definitely had a piano. Dad sold, or maybe just tossed, all of it. After. Mom used to sing Dib and me to sleep when we were really little, and I remember Dib loving music then. She left, and he's hated it ever since. But whatever. It's his choice.

We arrived at the high school at 7:45, and we wished each other good luck again, then parted ways. I walked down the sophomore hallway and opened my locker. There was a note taped to the door. It read: "5:00 PM tonight. ~Tak."

"Bitch," I muttered. "Why even tell us?" I crumpled up the note, then looked at my schedule. First period was English, so I went up to the room and listened to my mp3 player until the bell rang. Stupid bell… it interrupted Evanescence's "Even In Death."

The kids in my English class were semi-recognizable from Mr. Elliot's class, but there was a new girl, Kiki, who I hated right off. She was obviously a cheerleader, because of the silicone stuffed in her bra and the skirt that covered less of her ass than her thong did. She had straight brown hair and the most annoying voice I've ever heard in my life. Goddamn, I hate sluts! I thought they would be wiped out in five years. The Earth really is doomed.

The English teacher was Mr. Gebbia, and he was more passionate about English than Señora Sigovia was about Spanish. But, he was pretty cool, and started us off with Edgar Allan Poe. Our assignment for Tuesday was to read and analyze one of his stories. I got to read The Black Cat, and Kiki complained that The Cask of Amontillado was "too long," and I told her to shut up. That concluded English class.

Period two was Drama, taught by Ms. Burns. At first, I wondered why the hell I was even in that class, but I soon grew to like it. Ms. Burns enthusiastically announced that she was starting the year off with a Shakespeare unit. Everyone groaned, but quickly became more interested when Burns announced that the play we would be doing was modernized.

I didn't even realize that Tak was in my class until parts were assigned. The play was The Taming of the Shrew, but, as Ms. Burns had said, it had been modernized.

Scripts were handed out, and it was cast immediately. "That way, you can really see just what you can do," Ms. Burns said. "All right," she continued. "Let's see… Brian, you'll play Baptista… Tak, please play Bianca… and, hmmm… how about… Gaz, you get to play Kate…"

"Wait… Ms. Burns," I said, flipping through the script. "Kate is the main character!"

"I know!" she swooned. "And you'll do great!"

"But––"

"Moving on," said Ms. Burns.

I sighed. Oh, well. At least I'd get out of it soon enough. I hoped.

Third period was a study hall, so I read The Black Cat, and highlighted my lines in The Taming of the Shrew. I realized that Kate was actually going to be pretty fun, because she was bitchy and hated guys. Of course, she had to kiss a few times, but I'd find some way out of that.

Dib wasn't in my lunch period that day, so I sat alone with my script and a soda. That is, until a girl with soft purple hair tamed back by a headband walked up to me. "This seat taken?" she asked.

"Not unless you want it to be," I answered.

"Thanks," said the girl, and she sat down across from me. "I'm Zita, by the way," she added. "I'm a junior."

"Gaz," I said. "Sophomore."

"Hey," Zita asked, "you're not Dib's sister, are you?"

"Yeah," I grumbled. "Why? Afraid of me being insane, too?"

"Not at all!" laughed Zita. "I'm glad there's a hint of sanity in his family."

"Oh, shit," I said sarcastically. "Where?"

Zita laughed again. "Hey, I'm glad I ran into you," she told me. "I had drama yesterday… and my friend Tak says you're gonna play Kate! Way to go!"

I nearly spit out my soda. "You're friends with Tak?"

"Sorta. Why? Do you know her?"

"…Sorta."

The bell rang and saved me from that conversation.

Fourth period was Computer Science, and fifth was Phys. Ed. I hate phys. ed. We had to run around the outdoor track (for God knows what reason). Kiki was in my class, so I tripped her. After class, we had to go to the locker rooms and shower. The water was too hot, and I didn't dare stick my hair under it. There were no stalls, so I had to change in front of all the other girls.

"Hey, Gaz!" one of them laughed as I snapped on my bra (which was still uncomfortable). "Are those real?"

"Fuck you," I said angrily, hurriedly throwing on my shirt.

"I didn't know they made A-cups anymore!" another girl chimed in.

I flicked her off, then put on my skirt and boots. I swung my bag over my shoulder and turned to leave.

"Some people just can't take criticism!" the first girl said with a high-pitched laugh.

I spun back around and smacked both of them in the head with my backpack. "Never talk to me again!" I told them firmly.

And thus ended day two of my high school nightmare. After school, I met Dib at the front of the building again, and we didn't talk until we got into the car.

"I got a note from Tak this morning," I said, breaking the silence.

"So did I. Told me where her base was."

"All she wrote to me was a time: five o'clock."

"That's weird," said Dib. "It's gotta be a trap. Why else would she say anything to us?"

"Eh," I shrugged.

Once we got home, we talked on the subject a little more.

"So should we go?" I wondered.

"I don't know," my brother answered.

"I mean, Zim did say something about 'we can't fix this without him…'"

"He could've been lying."

The phone rang. I rolled my eyes and picked up. "What?" I asked.

"SUCKMUNKEY!"

"I told you not to call here, you stupid robot! If you have something to say, say it!"

A pause.

"Huh. I didn't think s––"

"SUCKMUNKEY!"

"Shut up!" I shouted. "I'm gonna wring your neck if you say that stupid word one more ti––"

"SUCK––"

"THAT DOES IT!" I screamed, hanging up. "I am going to kill that robot!"

"Who, GIR?" Dib wondered.

"No, the other robot!" I sneered. "Of course it's GIR! And he's getting on my nerves!"

"How so?"

"Ugh, all he says is––"

"SUCKMUNKEY!" I whirled around, and there was GIR, in his crappy green dog suit. There was also a hole in the door.

"You broke our door!" I shouted.

"I gots somethin' to tell you!" GIR announced.

"But you broke our door!"

"Zim's fight'n Tak!"

"But you broke our door!"

"Tak's gonna kill him!"

"But you broke our––"

"Wait!" Dib interrupted.

"Door!" I yelled, not wanting to leave my sentence unfinished.

Dib walked over to GIR and knelt down in front of him. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Uh-huh!" GIR answered euphorically. "Zim 'n' Tak was fight'n, an' then she won an' she locked him up an' now he gonna die, an' then Tak's gonna make me explode, like this: SPLODE!" He threw his arms up in the air for emphasis. "An' then you is gonna be all stuck an' stuff! Whoo!"

"You broke our goddamn door," I muttered.

"Shut up about the door!" Dib spat.

"Well, he did."

"Quiet." Dib turned back to GIR. "Where are they?"

"Uh… hmmm… I think they… um… uh… they're at… uh… mebbie they… hmmm…"

"GAH! Never mind!" cried Dib. "Tak gave me directions. You just… uh… Gaz, take GIR to the car, okay? I'll be out in a minute."

I rolled my eyes and snatched up the robot. I opened the ruined door and climbed into the car, dropping GIR in the back seat. He climbed up the back of my seat and I shoved him back down. He tried again and I shoved him away again. Then, he jumped up onto my head.

I grabbed him and held him out in front of me. "What is wrong with you?" I demanded.

"I like you!" said GIR, making a cute face.

"Get back there!"

I set GIR back into the seat behind me, and Dib came into the car.

"She lives just past Zim's block," he said, revving up the car. "Shouldn't take that long to find her."

"Well," I said, "the sooner we get there, the better."

"Why?"

"It's almost five."

– – –

We arrived at Tak's base at quarter of five. It looked like a normal enough house, but there was Irken writing on the door that, clearly, I was unable to read.

"Well," Dib said, "let's go."

"Why don't we get GIR to break her door, too?" I offered.

I was kidding, of course, but GIR quickly leapt out of his dog suit and went into duty mode. The top of his head opened up and he produced a laser cannon, and blew up the door. He retracted the cannon, went out of duty mode, and flung his arms up in the air and cried, "WHOO!" Dib just stared, and I rolled my eyes, but then we went in.

I heard Tak's unmistakable laughter rising up from the basement, so we descended the stairs. The hallway at the bottom of the stairs led us into Tak's main laboratory. The laboratory was enormous. Computers were rigged up everywhere, and there was a wallscreen with controls on the far right wall. At the back of the lab was a huge generator, and nearby was an electric-wire chamber, glowing bright blue. It was slowly decreasing in area, and closing in on the Irken at its center:

Zim.

Zim looked absolutely petrified, and he kept on running into the sides of the chamber, trying to break free. "Let me out, Tak!" he shouted. "Let me out!"

Tak narrowed her purple eyes and grinned. "Come, now, Zim," she said darkly. "You know that you can only get out if someone from the outside helps you, and I've no desire to free you myself."

"Damn you!" Zim cried, pounding on the electric wall. The chamber closed in even more. "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry! I'll give you my mission! I don't care! Just don't let me die like this!"

"Too late!" Tak laughed. "I've finally got you trapped… I can finally win!"

"We've gotta get him outta there," I whispered.

"Why?" Dib hissed back.

"Cuz I think he was telling the truth!" All of a sudden, a red light flashed.

"What the––" Tak cried. "Intruders?" She whirled around, and her eyes narrowed again. "So," she snarled. "It's you. I knew you couldn't stay away for long. MiMi! Get them!"

A black blur whirled around her, then MiMi, in cat guise, stood at her side.

"Okay," said Dib. "We can do this. GIR, you take care of MiMi." GIR saluted. "I'll hold Tak off long enough for you," he turned to me, "to free Zim. Then, the four of us can fight Tak, and then we can reverse the effects of the Time Warp."

"How can you be so sure of yourself?" I asked. "What if something goes wrong?"

"If Zim dies, we're out of luck anyway," Dib gulped, "so we've got to just hope for the best."

"Okay."

"Hey, Gaz?"

"Yeah?"

"Be careful," said Dib.

"You, too," I returned.

Then, we braced ourselves for whatever was about to come.

For some reason, I started to think about the previous night, and how great I felt when I was alone with my music. I prayed that I'd live to feel like that again. I snapped out of my thoughts when MiMi shed her hologram and rushed toward us. GIR went into duty mode and lunged at her, blocking her attack at us. The two robots engaged in battle, and Dib and I slipped past them and closer to Tak.

"Save Zim!" GIR called after us as we approached Tak.

"Get to the chamber!" Dib instructed while we ran.

Before I could make a move, Tak sprang out in front of us, spider legs extended. The electric chamber was closing in on Zim at an even faster rate, and he looked completely frightened.

"I won't allow you to get any closer!" Tak roared at us, curling her fingers into claws. "Though I'd like to see Zim suffer through life once outside the generator's chamber, I'd like even more to watch him suffocate to death inside it!"

"You were planning to kill him!" Dib shouted.

"Of course! You really think I'd tell you the whole truth?"

"Bitch!" Dib yelled, lunging at Tak.

Tak jumped out of the way, but Dib was quickly upon her. Tak activated her hologram for more accurate hand-to-hand combat, grinned, and struck out. My cunning brother stopped her hand and countered, but that otherworldly liar was ready with yet another counterattack. All the while, the chamber was getting smaller and smaller, Zim looking more and more terrified.

"Go!" Dib hollered at me. I made a dash for the generator, but then Tak scratched Dib across the face, knocking his glasses to the floor and leaving three thin bloody scratches over his right eye. Dib winced in pain.

"DIB!" I screamed, wanting so much to wring Tak's neck.

Dib struck Tak across the face and then kicked her to the ground. "Just go!" he shouted. "I'll be fine! I can see well enough… so just go!"

I nodded and rushed over to Zim.

"How do I get you out?" I asked him.

"I don't––no! I won't let a human help me!" Zim's look of terror was replaced by one of stubborn condescension. He curled his lip as he glared up at me, arms haughtily folded and feet planted to the cold metal floor. Despite the act, his antennae drooped, which was all the evidence I needed to know that he was still scared out of his mind of getting crushed within Tak's contraption.

The chamber was only about six feet high now, and narrower than before. "Well," I said frantically, "just forget, for a minute, that you hate humans… and grab my hand!"

"No!" Zim spat. "I refuse!"

"Come on!" I snarled at him. We needed that jerk in order to make it back to our proper time and lives, so I was getting him out of there no matter what. "It's either this or death!"

I held out my left hand––being the strongest––and cautiously put it inside the chamber. Shocks of electricity pierced my wrist, but I didn't let that stop me. Zim grit his teeth, growled loudly, then thrust a hand out. I clasped it firmly. The current flowed harder and harder, but I managed to keep holding on. Slowly but surely, Zim's grip got stronger, and, by the time his wrist broke the barrier, his grip overpoweredmine.

The forcefield gave off a blinding light. I grabbed Zim's wrist with my right hand for extra support; I closed my eyes and grit my teeth, and put all of my strength into pulling Zim out. He finally made it out, and I sprawled back onto my ass. Someone caught me and helped me to my feet. "It's me, don't worry," Dib reassured me.

I looked over at the now-empty chamber, which completely imploded. Then, I turned to look at Dib. He wasn't wearing his glasses and the scratches above his right eye were still a little wet with blood. "You okay?" he asked, pulling a spare pair of glasses out of his trench coat pocket.

"Yeah. You?"

"Fine."

"Where's Tak?"

"She'll be out for a while," Dib answered. "Where's Zim?"

"Oh, he's––" I began. I turned around, expecting to see Zim. I didn't... but there was someone there. I gasped.

"What?" Dib inquired, sliding on his glasses. "What's––oh… who the––?"

There was someone there––a human; he looked about sixteen or so. When I caught sight of him, he was more or less in a heap on the floor, but he cautiously, shakily, began to pull himself up onto his hands and knees, coughing and gasping for breath as though he'd just surfaced from underwater. Struggling to keep his balance, he put a hand to his chest, and kept a firm grip of his dark red shirt as he regulated his breathing. Then he paused suddenly and flattened his hand onto his chest. He held his hand up in front of his face in astonishment and horror, then sat back and held up the other. He turned his hands over and back, then examined his arms, body, and legs. He glared at his hands again and clenched them into fists.

"Oh no…" he said, quietly yet full of fear. "No, no, no… what have you done to me? What have you DONE to me?" he shouted, lifting his head.

A few wisps of unruly black hair fell into his eyes, which turned suddenly from red to brown. He scrambled to his feet, fighting gravity until he could keep his balance. Slowly, he corrected his stance; he found his footing after a moment, then straightened his back, his broad shoulders tensing rigidly as he did. He had been looking down, watching his awkwardly-placed feet, and when he raised his head again, his discomfort was clear. "What have you done to me?" he demanded again, glaring at me in contempt.

His voice was low, strong, and raspy—clearly mid-adolescent, and yet so familiar, so easily harmonized with a tone I had heard mere minutes ago. I read beyond the glare into, dare I say it, a well-featured face that I could not recognize. His dark brown eyes offset his light skin, suggesting a brooding or cleverly-hidden personality. Thin black eyebrows furrowed beneath a jagged, m-shaped hairline, which liberally let the young man's midnight bangs fall as they pleased; the rest of his hair spiked back into a seemingly planned, but tousled mess, thick until reaching a point at the back of his neck, just at the base of his head—above his ears, his hair was shorn into a sawtoothed cut, looking ready to grow out into slight sideburns if left alone long enough. His expression was dour, but his face suggested that he had seen worse hells. His cheekbones were high-set and almost too mature for someone of his rough outward age, and his strong chin did not quiver in anger; his mouth was tight-lipped and proportionate. Every bit of his rage came out through his eyes. That virulent expression he wore was too spot-on to be coincidental. I had been wrong––Zim was there… standing right in front of us.

"Oh, my God…" Dib breathed, speaking for both of us. "You can't be…"

"Can't be what? Why not?"

"You're a…" I began, "a…"

"…A human," Dib finished. My brother's voice quivered in disbelief.

"I'm a WHAT?"

I gulped, and the person in front of us snarled at me. "I am not a human!" he shouted, walking shakily towards us. "I'm IRKEN!" His voice cracked, the more he tried to yell and scream. Something about the cadence was different: yelling was no longer his forte; doing so threw his tone off. His voice sounded more suited to just speak, to sound natural, and way, way too normal. Well, too normal to be who he must have been. I mean, he still was, wasn't he?

Even though I knew the answer, I felt myself ask, "Who are you?"

"I'm Zim!" he shouted. "And you did something to me, and I want to know what!"

"I don't know!" I yelled back. With a few more steps, he had approached me directly. Having obsessively measured myself, I knew that, with my boots on, I stood at approximately 5'8". Imagine my shock, then, in finding myself craning my neck back to catch the now-brown eyes of the once-diminuitive Irken Invader.

He glared down at me, seeming ready to yell again, and then his eyes widened and he stumbled back a few steps. "I'm looking down at you…" he said nervously. "Why am I looking down at you? You were taller than me two days ago!"

"Two days ago, you were Irken," Tak announced from nearby, "but not anymore!"

"I thought you said you took care of her!" I hissed at my brother.

Before Dib could say anything, Tak spoke again. "I am now the only Irken on this planet," Tak announced triumphantly, "and therefore you three humans can do nothing to stop me from conquering it!"

"I am not a human!" Zim shouted.

"Oh, yes, you are!"

Suddenly, part of the wall to my left became a large mirror. Tak nodded towards it; Zim turned, glared at it, then gasped when he saw his reflection, his expression suddenly changing. For a moment, I could have sworn that time itself froze. (Given our recent track record with 'time,' I would not be surprised.) The time travel had been enough for me to believe, let alone everyone changing along with it. It was just that this—this? REALLY?—was so beyond unbelievable I think we all (minus Tak) had to think long and hard about the whole situation and how it had happened. This was not the time for that, though, and, to compensate for that, time froze for a moment. It froze, leaving me and Dib standing there perplexed, and Zim standing there looking... actually, pretty painfully alone.

His eyes, his brown, human eyes, widened in terror. His mouth, lips only slightly parted, did not move. He stood in an awkward position, almost like someone just getting the hang of skateboarding or surfing, his feet parted and his knees bent, his palms down, fingers splayed, in case he needed to catch himself if he fell, due to his ongoing (yet slowly triumphant) battle with gravity. Then, what must have been fear driving him, he stood up a little straighter, his eyes narrowed, and the flow of time resumed.

"NO!" Zim cried, striding up to the mirror, gazing in abject horror at his reflection. He put his hands up to the mirror and winced. "This isn't my reflection!" he shouted. "That is not me!" He slammed a fist into the mirrored wall and let out a frustrated yowl when his action did nothing to change his unlikely reflection. "I… am not… a human!" he cried. "DAMMIT!"

Zim whipped around and began to circle us, staring at us hatefully. I'm pretty sure I just gaped unattractively back, jaw most likely dropped and eyes transfixed on this person that I was still trying to convince myself was that quirky little Irken. "Why did you do this to me, huh?" he demanded. "Why'd you turn me into this… this… human?" Zim began to pace, running his hands through his hair furiously. "Dammit, what would the Tallest say if they saw me now? They'd kill me for sure!" He stamped his foot and flung his hands, clenched into fists, to his sides. "And I'd let them!" he continued angrily. "I'd rather be dead than be human!"

He began pacing again. "This is not who I am!" he shouted. "I'm an Irken Invader for crying out loud!"

"No, you're not!" said Tak, jumping into his path, spider legs activated. "You're just another stupid, insignificant, sixteen-year-old human that no Irken could ever give a damn about!"

"I AM NOT!"

"Yes, you ARE!" yelled Tak. "Look at yourself! Face it, Zim… you're a HUMAN!"

"SHUT UP!" Zim bellowed, slapping his hands over his ears. "I am not hearing this! This can not be happening to me!"

Zim glared at his hands again in shock, then at Tak. It was in his moment of confusion that I, too, realized what was wrong about that tiny second: Irkens did not have ears; their antennae, from what Dib has burbled to me here and there, function as both their ears and nose. I suddenly felt like I had no place feeling weird about having jumped from ten to fifteen.

"Protest if you want to, Zim, but no one will believe you."

"I'm not a human!"

"You want more proof? Read that!"

Tak pointed to the wallscreen, which displayed several phrases in Irken. I sure as hell couldn't read it, but Zim… well… I thought wrong. Zim squinted at the wallscreen, then his plain brown eyes widened again and he took a few awkward steps back. "I… I can't read it…" he said in horror. "It's in Irken! Why the hell can't I read it?"

"Only the synthetic eyes of an Irken can make sense of that writing," Tak purred. "Your human eyes are too weak to be able to comprehend it! You also no longer have your PAK, nor the capability to operate Irken machinery! Accept it, Zim! You're a human!"

"Shut up! Shut UP!"

Fed up with the argument, and the truth, Zim stormed out of the room.

Tak grinned at us. "And now you can't go home."

"Screw you!" I shouted at her. She evanesced.

"Come on," said Dib, his eyes displaying his hunger for more information. "Let's catch up with Zim." Drawn into the situation much further than I had ever counted on being, I nodded my agreement. Tak could wait. We rushed back upstairs, GIR close at our heels.

When we got outside, it was raining. Zim hadn't gone far; only to the edge of the sidewalk, where he stood as if frozen solid, his back to us; he was looking down at his left hand, which he held out in front of him, turning it over and back, watching the rain beat down on it. After a moment, he raised his head and lowered his hand. He squared his shoulders, as if trying to convince himself that he was strong enough to make it through this, and said, placing his hands on his hips, "I suppose you've followed me out here to laugh at me."

I glanced up at my brother, who wasn't crying out, "Yes!" as soon as I'd expected him to. Instead, Dib was chewing his lower lip in thought. He had his arms folded and was drumming the fingers of his left hand against his right arm. "I'm just, honestly, trying to piece this all together," was his eventual answer. Huh. I hadn't expected sense to come out of him. This was truly a time to be surprised all over the place.

"Hmf," Zim snorted, cocking his head down to the side. After a second, he shivered, and pulled his hands away from his hips, awkwardly and quickly curling and uncurling his ten fingers; he examined his arms again, and I almost wished I could see his face as he did. "I'm sure I look like a total idiot," he muttered. "And, ugh, I had no business yelling at you. I know you didn't do this to me. Tak did. She'd planned it all along."

"Huh?" came my brother's trademark response.

"I'm… sorry," Zim forced himself to say, his voice low and trembling. "I just didn't want it to be true. You have no idea how humiliating this is for me, how awkward it is to know that I'm…" He heaved a dejected sigh and turned to face us, lifting his chin up a bit. I had to applaud him, a little, for still trying to look strong in the face of such a change. Given the opportunity, I studied him a little, trying to see a glimpse of the Irken Zim there in the human. Tak had done a great job changing him, I had to credit her that. With the exception of the way he carried himself, the ticks of his head, the angles at which he positioned his mouth, he was utterly unrecognizable. His clothes gave a bit of a hint, as well: his shirt, short-sleeved and slightly too big, mimicked the color of his Irken uniform, and his jeans and beaten sneakers were black, like regulation Irken boots. Still, what he wore just made him look even more normal as a human.

Zim glanced at my brother, and then at me. When he got to me, he lowered his head again, and stared at me for a second; I had to wonder if he was blaming me, since I was the one who had pulled him out. "Look at me," he said sadly. Oops, I already did. Zim shook his head in anger, then looked at my brother again. "You win, Dib. You stopped me from conquering the Earth. A human can't destroy his own planet. I'm stuck here now until the day I die. I'm one of you now. No better or worse than anyone else." He growled in the back of his throat, and his eyes narrowed. "Who am I kidding? I was a sucky Irken… and now, I guess I'm paying for that."

GIR stepped forward and went briefly into duty mode. "My own robot doesn't even recognize me," Zim sighed. "I'm as good as dead."

"Hey," said Dib. "What happened to you? You're not acting like yourself at all."

"Dib, I'm not Irken anymore!" Zim snapped. The rain caused a clump of black hair to fall into his eyes. "I don't think like an Irken, I can't act like an Irken. It's all been replaced. Pretty soon, I'll be plagued with a human conscience, and what then, huh? I might as well accept it. I ruined everything for you, and I suppose I'm sorry. And now I can't even be much of a help because I'm…"

"Human?" I offered.

Zim looked hurt. "Yeah," he said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. He paused, pondering the action, drew his hand away to study it again, then dropped it and sighed. "Because I'm human."

He turned to go, but then GIR, finally catching on, walked up to him and looked up at his master sadly. Zim knealt down to talk to the little robot. "Go home, GIR," he said.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Go home, GIR!"

"No! I'm gonna stay with you!"

"It's just as well," sighed Zim. "My base will probably reject me the second I step foot in the gnome field."

"Maybe you could stay with us for the night," I offered as Zim stood back up.

"WHAT?" Dib shot, giving me a look.

"Just for tonight," I said. So help me, I felt sorry for the guy. I mean, seriously. In that situation? He was pathetic, and totally helpless.

Dib glared at me, then gave in. "Fine."

"No, really," Zim protested. "It's okay. I'll just––"

"If you walk around town in this, you'll catch pneumonia," I told him forcefully. "Get in the car."

Zim cast me a forlorned look, then reluctantly got in and sprawled out in the back seat, GIR on the floor next to him. I got into the passenger seat, then Dib came in and started up the car.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, steering onto the road.

"It's fine," I assured him. I turned in my seat. "Hey, Zim," I said, "you'll have to sleep on the couch, okay?"

"Sleep?" Zim asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, crap, humans require sleep, don't they? Man, this sucks!"

Once we got home, Dib went down into Dad's lab to grab the materials needed to fix the door. I went into the kitchen and grabbed three sodas out of the refrigerator, set one aside for Dib, and tossed another to Zim, who was leaning on the back of the sofa.

"What's this?" he asked me, staring at the can.

"It's soda."

"Indeed."

He opened the soda and tried it. "Not bad," he remarked. "It's… different."

"From what?"

"Irken… oh, never mind."

Each in our own way, we shrugged the idea off. After a second of hesitation, Zim took another sip, licked a bit of carbonated foam from the corner of his mouth, then took a moment to look around our house. His eyes were hard not to watch—it was kind of funny, really, knowing what he really was in comparison to the way he looked now. Within seconds, he had a more recognizable look on his face as his brown eyes darted studiously from corner to corner of the living room. His mouth squinched up a little, and at one point he bit his lower lip; he was weighing discomfort and relief in regards to the invitation into our (the 'enemy's') home. His study session did not last long; he lost interest, or ignored the whole thing, after about a minute in favor of talking about it instead.

"You invited me into your house," he stated, glaring at me with one eyebrow raised.

"Yeah?" I challenged. "So?"

"So... why?" he wondered. "I could kill you in your sleep."

"But you won't," I said, matter-of-factly.

"Oh, no?"

"Nope," was all I said.

"Hm."

There was no need to point out the fact that he needed us as much as (if not more than) we needed him in order to beat Tak and this whole crazy scheme. Zim snorted in disapproval, and looked ready to fight me on that issue, then gave up, rolled his brown eyes, and took another sip of the soda.

After another minute passed, Zim walked around and sat on the couch; I sat nearby on the recliner. Zim frowned at his bangs, and swept his hands through his hair frustratedly, trying to dry it and get it out of his eyes. After a couple of tries, he succeeded in getting it to fall in a semi-normal manner. It was naturally spiky anyway, but I guess he didn't realize that, since he still looked annoyed.

After a pause, Zim set down his drink and asked me, "Your name is Gaz, right?"

"I thought you knew that."

"Just checking."

"Why?"

He shrugged, then asked, "Gaz… what… what do I look like?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"Well," he said, nervously running a hand through his hair again, "when I saw my reflection, all I saw was… well… a human. I just want to know what I look like to everyone else."

"Okayyy…" I said, giving him an odd look. I studied his features for a second, then said, "Well.… you're pretty tall… normal build, I guess… your skin's about like mine… you've got black hair, brown eyes, and you're kind of…"

I shut my mouth. I hadn't realized it until then, and I'd almost let it slip, but it was true. As a human, I found Zim… well… kinda attractive. I'd never thought that about anyone before, nor did I know what to expect the day I did. Who'd have thought it would be Zim?

"I'm kind of what?" Zim asked.

"Um… tall?" I tried.

"I think you already said that."

"Oh. Okay."

"Well… thanks."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Hey, what do I look like to you, anyway?" I wondered. "Just another human?"

"Actually, no," Zim answered. "In fact, I think that y––"

That's when Dib came back upstairs, and our little conversation came to an abrupt end.

"GIR broke our door," I mumbled.

"I know," said Dib.

Okay. Now, before you get the wrong impression… I have no idea what the hell had come over me! To tell you the truth, I hated that stupid Irken. Invader Zim had done nothing but make my life suck for the past year and a half, and Dib wasn't helping. If my asshole of a brother had a different obsession, I thought at the time, I wouldn't have been in that mess.

And, even if Zim did take over the world… so what? Humans sure have done a great job at turning this planet into a goddamn toxic waste dump… let's see if the Irkens could do any better! It would probably be beneficial for a few million humans to be annihilated and have somebody else in charge. But if there was one thing that I hated above everything else… it was being a highschooler with only a decade of life experience. People say "life's a bitch." Bull. Life's a fucked-up mess that bitch-slaps you, and, after that moment, I really wanted to bitch-slap it right back.

That night was absolute hell. First off… hormones! Yay! Fuck! Because we now had no way back, life was catching up on me, and––bang!––I had my first brush with... whatever it was that I thought I felt when I was looking at Zim.

Love is a disgusting thing sometimes. I mean, look at what it did to Mom. First off, why she ever married Dad is beyond me, and, chances are, she didn't know what she was doing when she had kids. Two days after Dib turned four, she just up and left, because love––life's angry cousin––had bitch-slapped her one time too many; that's myguess. I was a generally smart kid, so I picked up on it right away. Even though I was three at the time, I'd made a promise never to letmy life go in the direction that Mom's did. I wouldn't want my daughter to be a miscreant like me, that's for sure. Then again, I had no idea what hormones were when I was three, and I still didn't want to give in to them when I hit ten.

Suffice it to say, I felt like a complete asshole. There I was, still in my bitchy, stubborn mind frame, blushing––mark this down… blushing!––when I felt a bang of Lord-knows-what in my stomach. Okay, yeah, Zim was attractive, but I didn't think I'd get caught off-guard by that!

The weird thing about it was… he looked pretty embarrassed, too. He glanced at me, then cleared his throat nervously and stood. I did basically the same, then tossed Dib his soda. So, we fixed the door and then all sat down at the kitchen table for Gaz's Night In Hell, Part II.

"I want to kill myself," Zim groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"For the record, why?" asked my brother.

Zim sat back and shot him a look. "Look at me," he said flatly, getting louder as he spoke. "Just look at what she did to me. I can't read Irken, I'm unable to operate my Voot Runner, I don't have any idea what might happen to my base, and I'm in your house, asking you for help. On top of that, Tak turned me into a human!"

"Out of curiosity," said Dib, "how did she do that?"

"Deoxyribonucleic acid reconfiguration," Zim answered.

"Huh?" I demanded.

"DNA," Zim explained. "Stupid Tak and her stupid machines. She set that goddamn generator up to read and restructure my DNA. And I hate her!" he shouted as an afterthought, slamming a fist down on the table.

The table cracked upon impact, then crashed to the floor. Zim kept his fist stationary and blinked, then looked down wide-eyed at his hand. "Huh," he said, folding his arms. "Would you look at that?"

"Dib," I said, looking from the debris to my brother. "Wasn't that table made from that weird, indestructible wood that Dad developed a while back?"

"Yeah," Dib answered, despite the fact that the question was rhetorical. "That's… odd…"

We both stared at Zim, who stood and shrugged. "Well," he said, "I guess it wasn't that indestructible, was it?"

He started to walk out of the kitchen, but Dib got up and blocked the doorway. "How did you do that?" he demanded, glaring at Zim. I stood and stepped over the pile of table remains.

"Do what?" Zim shot back, pushing past my brother.

Dib grit his teeth and spun Zim around to face him. "That!" he clarified, pointing into the kitchen.

Zim leaned against the back of the sofa. "I broke a table, Dib," he said, starting to sound more like his usual, incompetent self. "I'll make GIR repair it, if you want––"

"That's not the point!" Dib yelled.

I grabbed a shard of the table and brought it into the living room. "This stuff doesn't even burn!" I yelled, holding the wood in Zim's face threateningly. "How the hell did you break it?"

"Well, how long have you had the damned table?" Zim asked, slapping the wood out of my hand. "It was probably just old. Or maybe I hit a weak spot. Everything has a weak spot, even so-called 'indestructible' things. Even Vortian engineering––"

"I don't care about stupid Vortian engineering!" I shouted. "I'm talking about the table you just broke!"

"For crying out loud, Gaz, it's a table!" Zim spat. "Look, I told you, I'll make GIR fix––"

I slapped a hand to my forehead. "You are so…" I grumbled, "so…"

"What?"

I looked up at him. My heart started racing and a lump caught in my throat. I stamped my foot, suppressing the feeling, and shouted, "ASININE!"

"And," Zim smirked, adding fuel to the fire, "you're cute when you're angry."

"Oh, great," said Dib, backing away towards the stairs. "Gaz, just let me––"

"Go away," I ordered, glowering at him.

"Well, have fun fighting," he said, ascending the stairs.

My fingers trembled, and I clenched them into fists. I looked back at Zim. "What did you say about me?" I challenged him, my voice quivering.

"Why? Was it offensive?"

I felt a rising wave of anger wash over me.

"I HATE YOU!" I shouted, aiming to strike.

…But he stopped me. I was too shocked to try again with my right hand. I glanced up at him, my eyes wide in surprise.

Zim glared at me unemotionally, still firmly gripping my wrist. "You humans," he said in a dark tone.

My eyes narrowed. "Last time I checked, you were human,too!" I shot back. "Let me go!"

"Is that a request or an order?"

"You don't have any power over me for it not to be an order!" I replied. "You think people should obey you, you think people should be intimidated by you… why the hell do you possess such stupid thoughts?"

Zim loosened his grip a little, and I continued. "You're too ignorant to realize that absolutely nobody listens to you. It's obvious because of your stubborn nature. If you ask me, Zim, you did this to yourself! You were just begging to be reprimanded, and look at what's happened to you! So you're human… so what? Who cares?"

"I DO!" he snarled, tightening his grip again. He had an incredibly strong grip… so strong he was nearly crushing the bones in my wrist. With just a little more effort, I realized, he probably could have broken it. My eyes watered, but I held my tongue, not wanting to make my pain too obvious.

"How would you like it if this happened to you, Gaz?" Zim went on. "You and your brother… you both have one-track minds! Look at it from my side! How would you like it if you were stripped of all you knew? I know some of the actions I've taken in the past have been less than admirable, and I've since been punished for most of them, but this is going too far!

"I'm supposed to be Irken, Gaz!" he continued, though not quite as harsh. "That's all I've ever known! For decades greatly outnumbering any human life span, I was Irken! I trained on Devastis and became an Invader! I had a long period of time behind me, and centuries more ahead! In less than an hour, that changed, and now I'll suffer all that human mortality hurls into my path, and eventually die from it. There's nothing left for me to live for, Gaz! I don't know who I am! All you see is, 'Oh, Zim's a human; oh, well, he should accept it.' Well, I won't accept it, because it's not me! I did nothing to deserve this. Nothing!"

He suddenly looked very forlorned, and there was unspoken grief in his eyes.

"Look at me, Gaz," he said sadly, looking me straight in the eye. "I don't know how to be human. I don't know how to counter sickness or emotions; I don't know what limits this planet has set for me; I don't know how to live without a PAK! I don't recognize my heartbeat, I don't recognize the pattern of my breath, and I don't even recognize myself. I can't be human, Gaz; I don't know how! I don't know my strengths or my weaknesses, I don't know who I can and can't trust…"

He paused, and let go of my wrist, then backed away. "And I don't know what emotion this is that I'm feeling right now…" he finished.

My heart started to beat wildly against my chest, and I gulped, praying that he wasn't about to say that he was attracted to me, too.

"No…" Zim corrected himself. "I know what it is." He turned his back on me and gripped the top of the sofa. "It's fear."

"You?" I laughed. "You… are actually afraid of something?" I went around to the other side of the couch and grinned slyly. "Or is it someone?" I inquired. "Are you afraid of Tak?"

"No, that's not it," answered Zim, folding his arms and relaxing over the back of the couch.

"Well, then, what?"

"Death," Zim replied in a sepulchral tone. "When Irken PAKs reach their limit, the host has ten minutes to live. Those last ten minutes are spent to perform the PAK's final function. Irkens are guaranteed a predestined reincarnation, and that's when they find out. But what about me? I'm just…"

Zim let out a harsh sigh. "Right now, I'm just another empty shell of a human. What will happen to me when I die?"

"Well," I said, "I'm not religious, but I do believe in an afterlife. Not necessarily heaven or hell, but just… I don't know. Souls have to end up somewhere."

"Then there's nothing for me."

"What makes you say that?"

"I don't have a soul," Zim explained dolefully. "Or, at least, I don't think that I do, since I wasn't born human."

"Well…" I said, choosing my words carefully. "My mom was a big fan of banalities; all her stories and stuff were pretty interesting, though. She said, once, a long time ago, that anyone who's ever loved has earned a soul. Clichéd as it is, it's believable, huh? So, even if you don't have a soul, you'll get one eventually."

Zim smiled. It was the first true smile of his, that ever actually had a purpose, that I'd seen. "Thanks, Gaz," he said gratefully.

I grinned a little, then switched on the lamp next to the couch and turned the others off. "It's late," I said. "I'm going to bed. You can watch TV if you want. Sorry you have to sleep on the couch."

"I don't care."

"'Kay."

I started up the stairs, but Zim stopped me. "Um…" he asked, "how do you sleep?"

"You'll figure it out," I laughed.

When I climbed into my bed that night, I wondered if I'd ever earn my soul.

– – –

Saturday's shower was a much appreciated improvement over the last two, even though the water decided to hate me and change temperature at random.

I decided to be lazy and not dry my hair, or wear any jewelry aside from my skull necklace. I even took a walk on the wild side and wore a pleated black and purple skirt and a comfortable, plain black t-shirt. I also found lace-up boots and wore those instead of my regulars.

Wow, I thought to myself, I sure am taking this whole thing in stride, aren't I?

I also decided, for God knows what reason, that I should allow myself to be a little crazy that day. I started right off by grabbing my guitar and picking out random songs on my way downstairs.

"I've been sleeping a thousand years, it seems," I sang as I walked into the kitchen. "Got to open my eyes to everything!"

"Is the apocalypse upon us or something?" Dib asked.

"Nah," I replied, sitting on the counter, still plucking the strings. "Trust me; if it was, I'd be cheering it on. Where's Zim?"

"Oh, he discovered another daily human ritual," said Dib, motioning towards the bathroom.

I laughed and set my guitar aside, then walked over to the fridge. Still feeling abnormally out of my mind, I grabbed a watermelon slice and found that it was the best damn breakfast I've ever had.

I heard water running, and Zim walked into the living room. I grabbed my guitar and sat down on the recliner, munching on my watermelon slice.

"That was... odd," Zim remarked. "But I'm glad I didn't have to worry about burning up at the sink."

"A-ha!" I said, still working on a bite of watermelon. "An advantage!"

"Quiet."

"So," Dib cut in, rapidly changing the subject, "what do we do about Tak?"

"We're stuck here, moron," I retorted. I took aim and spat a watermelon seed out, hitting my brother square in the forehead. "What difference does it make?"

"First of all, 'ow,' and secondly, we still kinda have to stop her from taking over the world."

"Eh," I said, spitting another watermelon seed at him.

"Quit that!" he demanded.

GIR walked in from the kitchen, also carrying a watermelon slice. He sat down on the coffee table and ate the watermelon noisily.

"Anyway," said Dib, "could we please get back to––"

I spat another watermelon seed at him.

"Would you quit that?" Dib shot, taking a step towards me. He slipped on the three watermelon seeds, then, arms flailing wildly, he fell on his face. I laughed, GIR found it very amusing, and Zim applauded and commented on my brother's amazing coordination skills.

"Oh, shut up," Dib muttered.

GIR ate his watermelon rind, then went back into the kitchen.

Dib just sat up where he was, and Zim sprawled out on the sofa. "You were saying?" he asked.

"I was saying," Dib answered, casting me a look, "that we really should do something about Tak and her––"

"!"

GIR streaked past us, carrying the rest of the watermelon. He crashed through the door––again!––and just kept squealing like a pig on speed.

"That little…" Zim growled, getting up.

The three of us followed the ecstatic robot outside. GIR put the watermelon on his head and started dancing exuberantly.

Zim slapped a hand to his forehead. "GIR!" he called, very dictorally. "Get back inside! You'll call attention to yourself!"

"And when has that stopped him before?" Dib asked rhetorically.

GIR ate the watermelon off––don't ask me how––and just kept on dancing.

"Checka dis!" he cried happily, stopping his dance.

GIR opened up the compartment in his head, and watermelon seeds shot out everywhere, sticking to people, tripping people, clogging up a dog's ass (that was actually very disturbingly funny…). All the while, GIR was giggling/screaming ceaselessly.

"Get in the house now, you stupid robot!" I shouted. GIR just kept dancing.

Then, Zim walked passively to the door, opened it and said, "Tacos."

The dancing ceased, and GIR ran into the house.

"Mommyyy!" a little kid cried as I went back into the house. "I gots seeds in my eye!"

"Somebody unclog my poodle!" a lady screeched.

"I have seeds in my ass!"

"Why, Lord, whyyy?"

"These aren't raisins!"

I slammed the door behind me. Zim grabbed GIR and held him in front of his face. "What is wrong with you?" he yelled.

GIR giggled.

"What?"

"Watermelon."

Zim frowned and dropped GIR unemotionally, then turned to us. "Now what?" he asked.

"Well," said Dib, collapsing onto the couch, "there's Tak…"

"TAK!" I cried, throwing my arms up. "Tak, Tak, Tak! All you talk about is Tak! If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were going out or something!"

"Oh, come on!"

I went into the kitchen and grabbed my guitar, then came back playing a lick from "Bela Lugosi's Dead." With a statement-making strum, I flopped down into the recliner.

"Is that all you can do at a time like this?" Dib accused me. "Play your guitar?"

I started a new song. "But ooohhh, oh, your city lies in dust," I sang, "my friend..."

"Gaz…" Dib warned.

"Rapture in the rupturing of all that I don't need—"

"GAZ…"

"I just wanna see you bleed… I know what I––"

"GAZ!"

"What?" I gave in, stopping abruptly.

"Could we please focus on the matter at hand?" Dib pleaded through clenched teeth.

"Ugh," I said, putting my guitar aside. "I bet I'm the only girl in the world who has a to-do list involving saving this stupid planet from getting blown up or whatever."

"Indeed," Dib commented.

"So, what now?" asked Zim, sitting in the chair adjacent to me, restraining GIR.

"Where's my tacos?"

"Shut up."

"Did Tak say anything to you before..?" Dib asked Zim.

"Uh… hmmm…"

Zim went deep into thought for a moment, then answered, "Well, she did say something about a transmission to the Tallest…"

"And..?" I pried.

"I don't know."

I fell forward out of the chair. "You don't know?" I repeated, getting up.

"I was too paranoid to listen to anything she was saying!" Zim covered.

"You don't have the patience to listen to what anyone says," Dib remarked under his breath.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Zim asked jokingly.

"Funny," said Dib. "So, you didn't hear anything?"

"Nope."

"How are we supposed to beat her if we don't have the upper hand?"

"Are we even sure she is planning anything else?" I wondered out loud.

"Why are you even asking that?" Zim reprimanded me. "Of course she's planning something! She got me out of the way… nothing is gonna stop her now."

"On the contrary," I corrected, "we can stop her."

"Yeah," Dib agreed. "We did it before; we can do it again."

Zim's eyes narrowed and he looked away. "Speak for yourself," he said, standing up, still clutching GIR. "I'm not going to help you."

"WHAT?" Dib and I cried simultaneously, both jumping to our feet.

"Last time, I only helped you for two reasons!" Zim yelling, spinning around to glare at us. "One: you had that disc, and two: I needed to get my mission back."

"So?" I pressed.

"So, there's nothing for me to fight for now!" Zim shouted violently. "I don't care what she does! I might be human, but I don't belong here… so I just don't care! Good luck, thanks for you hospitality, however reluctant, and see you in school!"

With that, he turned and stormed out the door.

"He'll be back," I said, grabbing my guitar and flopping onto the couch. "Trust me."

"How can you be so sure?" Dib inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"He's just gotta figure a few things out," I replied, plucking the strings of the guitar a bit. "I know he'll be back."

"If you say so," shrugged Dib. "I'm gonna go downstairs and try to hack into Tak's main base computer."

"Okay. I think I'll walk downtown," I decided. "I'll be back in a few hours, maybe."

"Sure."

"Mmmhmmm," I said. I went upstairs, put my hair up, grabbed a small backpack into which I stuffed some cash, my portable CD player, and my GS2.

I left through the re-broken door and began my walk into town. It was a nice day, I guess, but I had so much on my mind that I didn't really notice. I was in no hurry, but I walked briskly for some reason… it just felt natural, I guess.

Once in town, I went into my favorite electronics store. I picked up an Android Lust CD and then found an interesting-looking new video game called "Warped." It was a 1-player vs. computer RPG as well as 2-player combat. Needless to say, I bought it.

Then onto the bookstore. The local bookstore, Dragon Books, has an eclectic assortment of books and magazines, and one of the only places in town that plays good music. I don't know exactly why, but I bought a book of Sylvia Plath poetry. I stayed in Dragon Books for a while, flipping through video game preview magazines and Edward Gorey books. When I did leave, I didn't exactly feel like going to the arcade yet (which was odd for me), so I went into a small coffee shop to have a snack and just think for a while.

It was pleasantly not very crowded inside. I bought a cup of familiar-scented tea and some random, sugar-fortified edible thing. The atmosphere in the place was pretty nice: there were armchairs and love seats in one area, and a shelf stacked with literary and art magazines and such. I sat down on one of the love seats, leaning against one of the arms with my feet tucked up underneath me. There was decent enough music playing, so I just pulled out my new book and started reading, occasionally having some tea or a bite of that sweet thing.

After a few minutes, I heard a familiar voice coming from a table to my left.

"Now look what you've gotten yourself into."

I turned my head slightly, then gasped. Tak. Tak and Zim… what were they doing there together?

"Come on, Tak," Zim said pleadingly, "I'll do anything."

"Anything, hmmm?"

I had to do something. I couldn't stop myself. I got up and strode over to the table and put my hands on my hips. "What do you think you're doing?" I demanded. Tak snorted huffily, and Zim glanced nervously up at me. I felt like I had an advantage, because I was standing. I have no clue why.

"This is none of your concern, Gaz," snarled Tak.

"Oh, none of my concern, huh?" I retorted. "And it was your concern to get involved in our lives? Explain that to me."

She couldn't. All she said was "Hmf."

"Huh," I said. "Thought so. Now get out of here. What business has an Irken with a human?"

"What business has a human with an Irken?" Tak shot back at me, standing up and staring me down. "You're in my way, Gaz."

"So, take a detour," I scowled.

"Brave words," Tak remarked, all too sweetly.

"Leave Zim alone," I ordered, holding my ground.

"Doesn't it bother you that you're stuck here?" asked Tak.

"Oh, we'll find a way back," I assured her. "There's always a loophole."

"We'll see," said Tak. That having been said, she left the building.

I turned to face Zim. "What did you think you were doing?" I wanted to know.

"Trying to strike a deal with Tak to reverse what she did to me!" Zim answered angrily, standing up. "Why did you stop me?"

"Why were you asking her for help?" "Because…" he started, then gave up. "I'm getting desperate, okay?"

"Yeah, but… that desperate?" "Jeez, Gaz, calm down! What is wrong with you?"

He started to walk out, so I grabbed my stuff and followed him.

"What's wrong with me?" I repeated harshly, once I'd caught up with him outside. "What's wrong with you? Look, Zim, I understand that you're eager to reverse this, but you have to weigh your options first! You can't just make spur-of-the-moment decisions like that! If that's how you think––"

"Shut up!" Zim snapped. "You sound just like Miyuki!"

"Who?"

"Ugh… never mind. Why are you following me?"

"I'm not going to stop following you until I can knock some sense into your thick head!"

"Oh, come on," Zim grumbled. At a street corner, he stopped abruptly and turned around. I almost tripped. "Listen to me," he warned. "I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but stop it! I can run my own life!"

"But the universe doesn't revolve around you!" I shouted.

"Well, it doesn't revolve around you, either!"

"I hate you!"

"Good! I hate you, too! Now quit following me!"

"What will you do to me if I don't?" I challenged.

"Just leave me alone!"

There was an awkward silence, but then I regained composure and spoke. "Zim…" I began, "I'll make you a deal. If you help us get rid of Tak and reset Earth to its proper time sphere, I promise that we'll find some way for you to become Irken again."

He raised an eyebrow contemplatively. "Really?"

"Really," I assured him.

"Alright," he sighed. "Sorry for being so sophomoric. Am I still welcome at your place?"

"Yeah," I answered.

"Well, then, let me go find GIR, and I'll see you later."

"'Kay."

"Hey, Gaz," said Zim, catching me off guard after I'd turned to go.

"Yeah?" I stopped and looked over my shoulder.

Zim flushed red, and he looked down, scuffing his foot on the gravel. "Um…" he said, stumbling over his words. "W… Wear your hair down, would you? I… um… it looks nicer like that."

"You think?" I asked quizzically.

"Well, I'm… just stating my opinion," he tried to cover, glancing up at me again. "N-not that my opinion matters, but…"

Silently, I reached up and pulled the elastics out of my hair. Zim's face went even redder. Now this was interesting, and a little strange. I'm pretty sure each of us felt as awkward as the other in that moment. Obviously, I'd had a little slip up when he'd asked me to describe him, and he'd reciprocated almost immediately, but... oh, shit, was he actually—no, no, he couldn't have been—flirting with me? No way. He didn't understand that. Or did he? But Irkens don't have affection. They're a society of clones. Then again... how human was he right now..? And, more disturbingly, why did a piece of me enjoy it?

"Th-that looks great," he said quickly.

"Thanks," I said. "See you later, then."

"I… guess… so."

– – –

"Hey, wait, I've got a new complaint; forever in debt to your priceless advice. Hey, wait, I got a new complaint; forever in debt to your priceless advice…"

I started in on the second verse of "Heart-Shaped Box," and Dib listened attentively, which, for some reason, made me feel a little more confident. "Man-eating orchids forgive no one just yet," I sang. "Cut myself on angel hair and baby's breath…"

Just then, the door burst open, and who strode in but Zim, a highly-caffeinated soda in hand.

"I LOVE CAFFEINE!" he announced, holding the can of soda high above his head.

GIR came in screeching and darted into the kitchen. A loud crash followed. Zim slammed the door and walked over to us, then threw himself into the recliner. "This," he said, indicating the drink, "is the best stuff ever!"

"Let me see that," Dib asserted, walking over to Zim. "Is this caffeine or alcohol?" He snatched it out of Zim's hands and read the list of ingredients.

"Hey!" cried Zim. "What's wrong with you? I was drinking that! I've only had three of 'em so far! Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie!"

"Three?" Dib repeated, flabbergasted. "This is an energy drink! You only need one!"

"Yeah, well," Zim said, taking it back from my brother. "I like 'em cuz they keep me going."

"Addict," I snorted.

"Proud of it."

He finished the can, then crumpled it up into a ball in one hand––with hardly any effort at all. "Well," he said, passing the aluminum ball back and forth in his hands. "What now?"

Dib blinked, and I just sort of stared.

Zim lay back, his feet on the head of the recliner, and started to throw the ball up towards the ceiling, playing a one-sided game of 'catch.'

"Well?" he tried again.

I walked over to him and flipped the back of the recliner down so that he was almost at face level. The aluminum ball came down and hit him on the head.

"Are you just not noticing what you're doing?" I asked.

Zim stuck his tongue out at me and flipped the chair back, then thrust his legs over his head and sprung off the chair, landing on his feet, all in one swift motion. GIR came in, jumped onto my head, and applauded.

"Noticing what?" Zim wondered.

GIR was playing with some splinters of the table damaged the night before. I took one from him. "My table!" GIR whimpered, grabbing for it.

"Don't worry," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm just gonna… um… use it for a game."

GIR approved by making some sort of squeaking noise. Zim stared at me, and I aimed, then threw the piece of wood a little to his left. Zim reached out and grabbed it, not taking his eyes off of me.

"Noticing what?" he asked again.

"That!" I replied, pointing.

"Are you still mad about the table?" he guessed.

"Hang the goddamn table, Zim!" I cried, on the verge of impatience. "I'm talking about you!"

"Me?"

"Yes, you!" I repeated. "Your strength, your agility, your reflexes!"

"What about them?" Zim inquired, tossing the table shard back and forth in his hands.

"They're…" I started, hunting for the right word.

"Inhuman," Dib offered, leaning over the back of the couch.

"Yeah, right," Zim said skeptically, casting my brother an odd look. "Why and how could I be any more or less capable of shit like that than anyone else?"

Suddenly, Dib grinned. "A flaw," he said.

"Huh?"

"A flaw in the system!" Dib repeated triumphantly. "Tak modified her machines from prototypes, right? Well, then, there must be some kind of imperfection… or a glitch in the design!"

"Where are you going with this?" asked Zim, raising an eyebrow.

"Come down to the lab," said Dib. "I've got to show you guys something."

He ran down into the lab eagerly, and Zim and I followed. GIR was still on my head, but I didn't care. When Dib was on to something, he was really on to something, and I prayed that this new something might help us get home.

Dib booted up Dad's main computer, and punched in some coordinates on the analog pad.

"I was able to hack into Tak's database, and decipher some of the Irken codes," he explained. A grid appeared on the screen. "There's about 7 gigabytes of information stored in this grid," he continued, "but the data is locked. However," and here he pressed a function key, "I am able to get this far."

A pop-up appeared, with Irken lettering. It soon refreshed itself and the Irken was replaced with binary, then English. It read: "Scan from outside source required. Begin scan?"

Dib turned around and smirked, the light reflecting off his glasses. "Zim," he said, "I think you're the outside source."

"What?" Zim shot, taken aback. "Why me?"

"Because I'm almost entirely sure that this has information about you."

Zim gulped and stepped up to the screen. His eyes narrowed. "Where's the scanner?"

Dib indicated to a small, flat portion of the analog pad, glowing blue. Zim gulped and hesitated, then slapped his right hand down upon it. The scanner got brighter and the pop-up disappeared, and the grid warped to show various new files. Zim retracted his hand and stepped back, and we all gazed at the screen in astonishment. GIR fell off my head.

"I knew it," Dib said. He converted the files into binary, then English, and then opened the file dated the previous night.

"Subject at hand: Zim," the file read. "Race: Irken. Status: Invader. Method Selected: Restructuring; I.D. to be erased, replacement confirmed."

I was about to ask what the hell it meant, but then the screen changed again.

"Process starting at 1600 hours, Earth Standard Time. Analysis… complete. Scan… complete. Reconfiguration in progress."

Then, it showed a statistics table.

"Subject at hand: Zim. Race: Human. Age: 16 years. Height: 6'0". Weight: 125 lbs. Hair color: Black. Eye color: Brown. Skin type: Caucasian…

"Skeletal structure: Replaced. Dependancy: Replaced. PAK Removal: Incomplete. System error. Progress 87%. Continue? …Denied."

Zim rushed up to the screen, looked from it to his hands, then whirled around and addressed us. "This means I'm still 13% Irken?" he cried ecstatically. "It says I still have my PAK! This is great!"

"Yeah," said Dib, "but, where is it?"

Zim turned to look at the screen again. I tentatively crept over and lifted the back of Zim's shirt. "Hey!" I announced, my eyes widening. "There's a scar here!"

"GAH!" Zim cried. "What are you doing? Don't touch me! Get away, get away, get away!"

I backed off and Zim pulled his shirt down, his face burning red as he shouted at me, "What the hell were you doing?"

"Checking to see if there was any sign of your PAK," I replied, stifling my laughter, "and there is. You've got a weird scar between your shoulder blades."

Zim's eyes widened, and he rushed back upstairs. Dib and I quickly followed, not bothering to turn the computer off. Zim darted into the bathroom and snapped the light on, then turned around, lifted his shirt and strained his neck around to try to spot the scar. "Oh, my God!" he gasped.

The scar began a little above Zim's shoulder blades, then ran down his spine in a sharp zigzag of a line. Another scar crossed it, extending shoulder blade to shoulder blade.

Zim pulled his shirt down and faced us, turning a little red again when he saw that I was there. "That's exactly where my PAK is supposed to be!" he said, overjoyed.

GIR suddenly leapt up onto my head––again!––with Dib's X-Scope on. "You gots it in you!" he exclaimed, pointing at Zim.

"HUH?" Zim asked, putting his hands to his stomach. "My PAK is inside me?"

"Let me see that!" Dib said, getting the X-Scope from GIR. "Oh, my GOD! He's right!" Dib tossed the X-Scope aside and walked into the living room, deep in thought.

Zim looked like he was going to be sick. "Inside me?" he repeated.

The doorbell rang. I took GIR off of my head. "Hold this," I instructed, handing the robot to Zim. I walked over and opened the door. Not recognizing the person, I labeled them as unimportant, flicked the person off, slammed the door in that person's face, and locked the door. I decided that was the biggest waste of time in my life. I then turned and walked back into the living room to join the others.

"This is great!" Zim said, stretching out on the couch. "I'm still 13% Irken!"

"And I'm 74% confused," I admitted, grabbing my guitar and flopping down on the armchair. "Does that mean that your physical strength is derived from and making up for the functions of that weird backpack of yours?"

"Precisely," Zim replied. "I think."

"That's pretty hard to believe," Dib confessed, giving it some thought, "but I guess it's logical. It seems reasonable enough from a scientific view, I guess…"

"Huh," said Zim, grinning. "That's odd…"

"What?"

"Nothing."

Dib made a face, then shrugged. "Well," he announced. "I'm gonna go back down to the lab for a while… see if I can find out anything more."

"Want me to order a pizza or something?" I suggested, picking up the portable phone lying conveniently next to me.

"Sounds good," Dib answered. "Call me up when it comes, would you?"

"Sure."

"I'll let you know if I find anything," he added before disappearing back down into the lab.

I called up Bloaty's Pizza Hog and placed an order for delivery.

"Isn't pizza that disgusting, greasy, circular thing?" Zim asked when I hung up.

"I guess you could put it that way," I said, laughing a bit, "but I think it tastes great."

"Indeed."

"By the way," I began after an uncomfortable pause, "what were you going to say after you said 'That's odd'?"

"Oh, that," said Zim. "Well…" He looked away. "It's just odd how much you remind me of her…"

"Who?" I asked. "That… Miyuki girl you made reference to earlier?"

"Not girl," he corrected me, "Tallest. She was… incredible. Tactful yet sincere; she was a great leader. I guess I've just had her on my mind lately… sorry. I'm living in the past. She died a long time ago. I'm sure I'm not even remembering her all that well."

"Oh," was all I could say. Then, I smirked. "So is that why you get all red when you talk to me?" I questioned slyly, just trying to make him nervous.

It worked.

Zim went as red as his shirt. "I don't know what you're talking about," he lied.

"Oh, come on," I said. "You know you get nervous whenever we have conversations together lately. Is it because I remind you of an Irken?"

"Um…"

Zim sat up on the couch. Just to see what would happen, I went over and sat on the other end. "Come on," I pried. "Come clean!"

"Well, uh…" Zim stuttered, tripping over his words again. "I… I guess it's because you kinda have some Irken qualities, but… um… well, I just… feel comfortable talking to you, I… I guess… I don't know…"

"Um…" I said, also at a sudden loss of words. "Why… uh… why did you ask me to let my hair down?"

I felt really stupid at that point. Why the hell did I say that? Damn you, mouth!

Zim turned to look at me and cleared his throat nervously. "Because," he replied, searching for the right answer, I could tell, "I…"

It was then that I noticed we were sitting a lot closer to each other than I had thought. My heart started beating wildly against my chest, and our eyes locked. For the first time, I really studied his. There was a glint to them, something I had never noticed in any pair of human eyes before. I wondered for a second if maybe he had the same hypnotic ability that Tak did, and that that was the thing affecting me. My conscience said no. Because I wasn't interested in the glint. I was fixated on the color. That dark, dark brown that reminded me of autumn. Something about those eyes shut me up and made me focus on someone else for once.

Zim gulped uneasily. "I think you're…" he continued, quietly and unsteadily. Shakily, he ran his hands through my hair… and I let him. It felt... nice. It was strange. I usually don't like it when people touch me, let alone come near me. I shouldn't even have to mention that physical affection, like hugs or even a reassuring hand on the shoulder, was never something big in my family, so I wasn't used to it. But this was welcome. He moved cautiously, and the way his fingers twined their way through my hair felt more relaxing than anything. "…Beautiful," he finished.

I was conscious of yet unprepared for what came next. Or, what was supposed to come next. Just at that moment, the doorbell rang, saving us both. Zim and I pried ourselves away from each other, both equally as nervous and embarrassed as the other.

I bit my lip, then walked over and answered the door. "Dib!" I shouted. "Get up here!"

I took the pizza box from the guy at the door and paid him to make sure he'd go away. I locked the door again and brought the pizza into the living room and set it on the coffee table. As I did so, I tried to catch Zim's eyes again. He did not look back. He was looking down, brows furrowed in puzzlement, mouth tight-lipped but quivering ever so slightly. Whatever we had just shared was over, and it would take him quite some time to sort it out, I was sure. Plus, we both knew that it was a bad idea to bring it up as a topic of discussion the second my brother surfaced from Dad's lab.

Dib, unsuspecting that anything at all had happened between me and Zim (which was really, really good), grabbed some sodas from the fridge and brought them in. GIR was quickly upon the pizza, but Zim was able to restrain him so that the rest of us could eat. I was almost as bad as GIR, honestly, since this was my first 'substantial' meal in three days.

Zim picked up a slice and just sort of glared at it. "This looks disgusting," he remarked.

I swallowed my own bite of grease and condiments and said, "You can't judge everything by its looks."

Zim made a face, then cautiously bit off a piece. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed.

"Well?"

"…Delicious…" said Zim, glaring at the pizza. "Somehow, this crap tastes incredible!"

"That's American fast food for you," Dib said, idiosyncratically clearing his throat.

"Does all human food taste this good?" Zim wanted to know, finishing the slice and grabbing another.

"Depends," I answered, my mouth full of crust. I swallowed in a very unladylike way. "Does cafeteria stuff count as human food?"

"Does it count as food at all?" Dib countered. I laughed, covering my mouth so I wouldn't spit crumbs as I did.

"Hey, Gaz," Zim said after a brief pause.

"Mmm?" I replied, gulping down some soda.

"Can you play a song on that guitar thing?"

I choked and snorted, and soda almost came out my nose. I coughed and set the can down. "What?" I blurted, trying to stop the carbonation from rising.

"Yeah," Dib urged, grinning at me. "Play us a song."

"Oh, not you, too," I moaned.

"Come on," said Zim, not showing any sign of dropping the subject.

"Fine," I gave in, grabbing my guitar and sitting up against the armchair. "But then we have a video game tournament so that I can humiliate you."

The others agreed––even GIR, surprisingly. So, I had no choice but to assume the role of entertainer. I fiddled around with the frets, then started pounding out a song.

"And it doesn't matter how you feel now, anything at all," I sang; "seems to be your only way, so vicious, heavenly apart. When your envy's on a piece of paper, let me sweetly smile; you're devouring all the crumbs I'm leaving caught up in your lies. You're on any other side… Clawing at my eyes, I'm feeling your arms around me, on the other side. It's time to go, I'm hearing your voice without words on the other side."

So I filled up the next two minutes or so with that acoustic rendition of "Unspoken." Once I was finished, I grabbed my bag and pulled out my new video game. I grinned. "Now we're gonna have some fun," I said in a jokingly menacing voice. I set up the system and put "Warped" in. Grabbing the first player controller, I selected battle mode, then set the second player controller on the coffee table. "Who's first?" I challenged, smirking.

The game had an interesting selection of characters to play as. A few were locked, as usual, but I'd unlock them soon enough. Each character had basic physical attacks, one special move, three locked moves, and a supernatural attack. Out of ten possible characters, four were female, which was understandable. I always use a female character when available, so I looked them over. One was the standard, scantily-clad girl: she was called "Mya," and was obviously the weakest one there. Another was a green-haired elfin enchantress, called "Tia," with a sword attack. Another choice was the usual Chinese martial artist with a tight bun and a tight uniform; her name was "Ling," obviously.

My choice, however, was particularly odd. She was dressed a lot like I was, but had a cat tail and ears. She had sleek black hair and red eyes. The strangest thing––and the thing that made me chose her––was her name: "MiMi." I figured it was just coincidence, and shrugged it off.

"I'll go first," said Dib, rolling his eyes. "I'll lose in a few seconds anyway."

So he grabbed the controller and selected a character at random. The CPU selected our field of battle: the generic martial arts ring. I took my brother out quickly with a low kick, a flip over my character's head, and a special move called "Cat Fist."

"Next," I said. Dib just laughed and tossed Zim the controller.

I started up a new battle; this time the fight took place inside a volcano. Zim was a little more skilled than my video game-illiterate brother, but I eventually beat him by throwing his character into the magma.

"If you fight this well in life, I'm staying away from you," Zim remarked.

"MY TURN!" GIR cried emphatically.

I laughed, and told myself to go easy on him. GIR took the controller and bit it, then entered the battle. GIR stuck his tongue out and started pressing some random buttons. It was working though, and through some freak chance, he beat me.

"WHAT?" I shouted. Zim and Dib looked from GIR to me. "How the––okay, rematch. I wasn't trying!"

So we fought again.

And the stupid little robot beat me again!

"WHOO!" GIR screamed happily.

"That does it!" I yelled, enraged. "One more!"

I beat him that time, but GIR wasn't really paying attention… he was biting the controller again. "Nobody's ever beat me before!" I said as I shut the system off. "How could a dumb robot like GIR beat me?"

GIR put the pizza box on his head and started to dance.

"He does a lot of things that normally would seem to be impossible for him," Zim replied.

GIR crashed into the wall, left the pizza box, and walked into the kitchen.

"And I have no clue why or how," Zim added. I grinned.

After a while and after a breakdance GIR, I grabbed my guitar and went up to my room. I undressed, put my pajamas on and flipped on the radio. I set it on a fairly low volume, then flopped down onto my bed, snatching up my GameSlave. When I'm alone, my mind tends to wander, and I become oblivious to everything else. If I'm reading, I flip the pages without catching the actual plot; if I'm playing a video game, my fingers do all the work.

This was one such instance. I was on autopilot as far as the game went, but otherwise deep inside myself.

I sighed and started to think about that new game I'd bought. Was it just a coincidence that there was a cat-like character named MiMi? Maybe I was just being paranoid. Then I remembered that, when I bought the game, it was the only copy of "Warped" in the store. And the name of the game itself was uncanny… wasn't one of Tak's machines called the "Time-Warp Machine?" Well, yes, I answered myself. That was the machine that got us all into this mess in the first place. Tak wasn't setting us up, was she? She didn't strategically plant that game, did she, knowing that my weakness for video games would eventually make me buy it?

What was she up to, anyway? Zim said that she'd sent a transmission to the Irken leaders… what was that all about? Last time, she'd contacted them with a proposal so that she could hopefully convince them to promote her to Invader. Tak seemed a lot different now than she had when we'd first crossed paths with her. Last time, she knew exactly what she'd wanted. Now she seemed like a bloodthirsty demon bent on revenge and destruction. Also, she now worked alone in a base of operations, rather than using her hypnotic powers to take over an Earth corporation to hide behind. She had only her own resources and no backup. After her defeat last time, one would think that she would aim higher for security. Tak wasn't using reverse psychology, was she?

And, why hadn't she done anything to us yet? She got what she wanted–– Zim was human. So why was she holding back? Zim had been human for a little over a day, and she'd done nothing! No new hints, no attacks, no conquest––nothing! Maybe she knew that Zim was still 13% Irken, and was trying to fix the glitch before taking any action.

That brought something else to mind. Tak said she'd found two machine prototypes. One was obviously the Time-Warp Machine, but what was the other? The second machine must have been the one that had turned Zim human––but what was it? Also, she had said that she was going to try the machines out "on us." Did "us" include Zim, or did that second machine have more than one purpose? Perhaps it had something to do with all of Earth, and Tak's conquest of it.

The transmission to the Tallest––it must have been about that machine! Or, if not, it must have been about her rank being elevated now that the Invader, Zim, sent to destroy Earth was no longer an Irken. She did say something like that, I recalled. "I am now the only Irken on this planet!" That's what she had said the night before. But she must have known that we'd catch on to her sooner or later, so she was just biding her sweet time, dealing with us before dealing with the planet.

Also, I couldn't help wondering if this 'future' was all a cruel setup. Tak must have fabricated it herself somehow with one or both of her new machines. How she did it was beyond me, and I wasn't about to work myself up on why. At the moment, though, Tak must have been working on how to fix her mistake and complete what she'd started on Zim. But once he became completely human, what would happen to him? By becoming a human, would that mean that he'd have to start a new life, forgetting that he was ever Irken? Did Tak even have the power, right, or even ability to do that?

And even if she did… something told me that she wouldn't be able to bring herself to carry it out. For some reason, I got the feeling that the Tak we were dealing with now was not the real thing. I mean, yeah, it was her, it was Tak… but something in her eyes told me that she wasn't acting like herself lately. The thing was, though, that I didn't know what she was really like. Had she always been the personification of revenge and fury? Had her name always been synonymous with negative charisma?

Somehow, I doubted that.

From her point of view, what she had initially set out to do only seemed right, and I couldn't blame her. Her life had been ruined… of course she had to do something about it. But now it just seemed ridiculous. Even the plan she'd revealed to us before we screwed it up seemed absurd. What good would tampering with the space-time continuum do her? And what did she plan to do in terms of conquest now, anyway? It was as though every part of her 'plan' now relied simply on spur-of-the-moment ideas and random strokes of genius.

Last time, Tak had a well thought out, perfectly planned mission for herself. Now, on the other hand, she was completely unorganized! That much I knew was unlike her. The real Tak knew what she wanted and waited for the opportune moment to just reach out and grab it. Tak simply wasn't acting like that as of late. She was scatterbrained and yet persistent now, and it was apparent that she didn't know what she really wanted, or how to get it. A part of her did, I could tell, but another part of her was trying to convince her otherwise. It was possible that she was just not prepared with a scheme this time, or, more likely, she did, but was waiting for something to happen in order for it to work.

In my delusional state, my fingers slipped and my game ended. Out of habit, I started a new game, just to keep my hands busy while my mind raced. I hardly even blinked, starting up a new game, since I just wove quickly out and back into my nearly dreamlike sequence of internal disputes.

My mind wandered back to the cafe where I'd caught Zim and Tak talking earlier that day. Where had he met her? How long had they been talking? What had they been talking about? And most importantly… Why did I care?

Before Friday, Zim had meant nothing to me. He was just an annoyance that amplified my brother's crazy obsession. Why, all of a sudden, did I seem so close to him? Why, all of a sudden, did I want to talk to him? To simply be in his company?

And what did Dib think about all this? Was he aware of my feelings? And why was he acting so strangely? I didn't quite notice it at first, but ever since Friday evening, he'd been acting differently. Normally, Dib would be spending every waking minute trying to find some way out of this situation, but now he seemed to be a lot more tolerant of all that was going on, and handling things more like I do. It was like a calm before a storm, and it worried me just how calm my brother was.

Also, he wasn't griping about Zim. That in itself gave me reason to worry. True, he was tentative at first, but now… he hadn't overheard our conversations somehow, had he? Was he aware of those few moments when Zim and I were together? He was hiding his anger, I just knew it. I mean, his own sister, obviously supposed to be on his side, suddenly having amicable conversations with his sworn enemy… yeah, I guess he'd be upset. Dib would have a long accusatory lecture soon enough. He'd snap. I knew it. My brother, like Tak, was just simply waiting for the opportune moment.

Still, it was weird... life since Friday night. Zim was our houseguest. We'd never had a houseguest. Ever. Plus, what the hell had we just been doing? The three of us and GIR, just sitting around, eating pizza we'd bought with Dad's money, playing video games, and talking about absolutely nothing of consequence. I don't know about anyone else, but that is what I'm pretty damn sure is called friendship. Friendship. Us and Zim. What the hell.

But still, like I said, how I felt about Zim was what worried me the most. I gave myself a mental slap. Zim is Irken, I shouted at myself without actually saying it out loud. He's Irken and you know it! You mean no more to him than any human does! Don't you remember what he really is? He hates you, and you hate him! It was only recently that he even learned your name!

I thought back to the night when Zim had first used my name. "You can't escape by teleporter, little Gaz," he'd said, "I cut the power!" Now, over the last couple of days, he'd addressed me by name many times over, and not in an avaricious way.

I dropped my GameSlave onto the floor; the batteries fell out. I sat up and stared out the window. The sky was dark and clear, and every light on the street was out. I looked at the wall clock. 9:25. I stared back out the window.

"Why can't I sleep?" I whispered. "Why can't I just get these agonizing thoughts out of my head and sleep?"

A wisp of hair fell into my eyes and I thought back to my uncomfortably intimate conversation with Zim. He was acting so unlike himself, as we all seemed to be doing as of late. We had both been so caught up in the moment that I think we both must have thrown aside all caution, and thrown aside our previously established roles. We'd disregarded any hate we'd felt toward each other since we first met. My heart skipped a beat.

He'd told me that I was beautiful.

Why did he say that? Why did I let him say that? Why did…

Why did I like it when he said that?

For almost two years, I'd hated him more than words can say… and how I had the temerity to accept such a compliment? Who's fault was it, then, mine or his? And what were we going to do about it?

Above all else, was he having a similar internal conversation with himself right now? Not a chance, I thought, scolding myself for allowing such fantastic nonsense into my mind. He's just confused, I assured myself. He just doesn't know how to be human, like he said. He doesn't know if he'll ever be Irken again, and talking to someone who reminds him of an Irken is just a comforting escape.

"That's the only reason he likes me," I reminded myself, speaking quietly. I tucked my knees up to my chin and clasped my arms around my legs. I relaxed my head and stared at absolutely nothing. "That's the only reason he likes me," I said again for additional reassurance. "Because I remind him of an Irken. That's all…"

But Irkens don't love, do they? I don't think they even can. So why did Zim care that I reminded him of an Irken Tallest?

Miyuki, he'd called her.

We'll he couldn't have been in love with this Miyuki person, right? He couldn't have had some sort of relationship with her if it's genetically impossible for Irkens, right? So why, then, did he care that I reminded him of Miyuki? It was all in the past, wasn't it? Miyuki had died a long time go; Zim said to himself. So what the hell would make him think of her again? And at such a time! Was it all just flattery? Was he just looking for some half-assed excuse to explain why and how I meant something to him? He was probably just trying to find something about Earth that he could tolerate. So why did that something have to be me? Of all people, why me?

I didn't ask to be a part of any of this. I was just Dib's backup. I didn't want anything to do with the Irkens or their so-called Invasion. I just wanted to be left alone. I just wanted to live. If Dib hadn't dragged me into this, none of this would have been happening to me. No matter what Tak did, I would neither know nor care what it was. Life would be normal! I'd have been walking around in the same shadow of oblivion that everyone else on this planet was.

So why? Why was I a part of this? Why did I care so much? What in God's name was wrong with me? Why was I letting all of this get to me? When would it end? Would it end?

Everything has to come to an end. That's just how it works. So how about this? How would all this end? If Zim didn't become Irken again, what would happen? Would he be on our side, or just not care either way? What if Tak won? What if it ended her way? Would she restore Earth? Would she kill us, or keep us close by? And, if she did spare our lives, what for? Servitude? Torture? Both?

I pictured the Earth in ruins and shivered. That wouldn't happen would it? As much as I hated my fellow man, as much as I'd love to see some humans get what they deserved, I didn't want it to end like that. As of now, Dib and I are this planet's only defense, because we're the only ones who know what's going on and who's behind it. The very idea made me tremble. Why me? I kept on asking myself. Why me?

Even if we did get rid of Tak; even if we did get home and Zim became Irken again… we'd still have to fight. The thought of losing my home, my family, and maybe even my life ate away at me, consumed me. No matter what, this would all have to come to an end. How many would die; how many would suffer? How long would this stupid Invasion last? The Irkens were stronger, and Earth was completely unprepared. Even at that, the Irken military would probably stop at nothing to get all the planets in the universe under their control.

I didn't want to be a part of this. I didn't want to be a part of this at all. What had I done to deserve to be caught up in intergalactic affairs? I didn't have any reason to be a part of this! None of this concerned me. So why? I thought again and again. I had no desire to play any sort of role in some big, interplanetary war, and here I was, playing a very important role indeed. My eyes watered––something that had never happened before. Why was I involved? Why did I care? WHY ME?

I'd lost my grip on reality, however loose it may already have been. I'd lost my last shards of dignity and sanity I may have had left. I'd lost myself. I'd been ripped at the seams and torn apart. That's all there is to it. I didn't know what to think anymore. Nothing made sense, nothing was the same. And that's when I knew it. That's when it hit me.

I was dangerously close to falling in love.

Goddammit, LOVE! Once again, Lord, why me? Deny it though I tried, I knew I had a crush, and on my own brother's worst enemy. Someone who wasn't even human. Why me, why me, why me? Worst of all, I didn't know how much he liked me in return, or if he even did. He only liked me because I reminded him of an Irken! Why, why, why? Dear God, why? Why did I have to remind Zim of Miyuki? Was I enough like her to make him love me? He'd almost kissed me. Maybe he was different. Maybe he, unlike other Irkens, did accidentally fall in love. Would he have kissed Miyuki?

No! I scolded myself harshly. No, no, no! Don't think like that! Even if Zim had loved Miyuki, she was dead now! She died decades before I was born! So why, now would I of all people remind Zim of––

"Irkens are guaranteed a predestined reincarnation."

My eyes watered, but then I narrowed them again, afraid to snap them completely shut. "Don't even think that, Gaz," I warned myself under my breath. "That's all just… stupid! I don't believe in reincarnation! That's stupid paranormal stuff! I do not believe in that!" My heart pounded heavily against my chest, and I drew my knees in tighter. "It can't be…" I whispered, trying hard to suppress the notion. "It just can't be true…" But what if it was? What if…

What if it wasn't just coincidence? No… I just didn't believe in that stuff! But, then again, just because I don't believe in something doesn't make it a fallacy. Still… it couldn't be true! That would just be too weird. 'There's no way,' I told myself. 'There's just no way!'

"She was incredible," Zim had told me. "Tactful yet sincere…"

NO! I shouted at myself. That's stupid! So you remind Zim of an Irken! So what? But wouldn't the fact that I'm the sister of his adversary make him hate me? Why did he have to bring up Miyuki now? Just how well did he know her? What if… But… oh, God, what if it was true? What if Zim did have her on his mind for a reason?

What if I was once Miyuki?

"Why me?" I whispered.

And then, for the first time in my life… I cried.

-end part one-

-SONG CREDITS-

"Ode to a Dying Day" and "Unspoken" - Lacuna Coil

"Bring Me To Life" and "Even In Death" - Evanescence

"Cities In Dust" -Siouxsie and the Banshees

"Heart Shaped Box" - Nirvana

"Bela Lugosi's Dead" - Bauhaus

"Polarity" - ThouShaltNot

"Stained" - Android Lust

See you next Friday with Part Two!