Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dib membrane reached out from under his covers to turn off his blaring alarm and grab his glasses. He rubbed his eyes as he adjusted to the light coming in through his window. He yawned, got out of bed, and made his way over to his closet, where he grabbed a pair of pants, one of his many blue t-shirts, and his favorite jacket. 

He carried the bundle of clothing out of his room and into the hallway as he made his way to the bathroom. Hopefully Gaz wasn’t hogging the shower this morning. 

She wasn’t. Thank god.

Dib tossed his clothes into a small pile on the toilet lid and started a cold shower. The low water temperature shocked out any drowsiness he had left in him. After the shower, he dried-off, got dressed for the day, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair to the best of his ability. That one strand of hair always stuck out of his head like a radio antenna. There was nothing he could do about it.

He went back to his room to grab his backpack and made his way into the kitchen for a quick breakfast before Skool. His dad had already left for work, and Gaz was sitting at the table, finishing-off a bowl of cereal. 

She offered him the cereal box .

“There’s maybe half-a-bowl left in there, I’d dig-in while you still can.”

Normally this ‘sharing’ behavior from his sister would be setting-off alarm bells, but Dib was too tired and hungry to care. He might have seen her smirking as he prepared his breakfast, but he couldn’t be sure. 

The siblings quietly finished their breakfast and headed out the door, beginning the long walk to Skool. They had a long day ahead of them, but the thought of taunting Zim later at recess lifted Dib’s spirits. 

He had something that would expose Zim once-and-for-all, and he was looking forward to rubbing it in his stupid, alien face after class. Everything was coming together, and Zim’s reign of terror was about to be stopped in its tracks.

Dib would not shut up about his plan on the walk to Skool. Gaz however, did not seem to share his enthusiasm. She spent the duration on her phone, ignoring him. 

“No, Gaz, you don’t get it. I’ve finally figured it out. Irrefutable evidence that Zim is an alien! Are you even listening to me?”

“No, I get it. I just don’t care.”

“Hold on, telling you about it isn’t enough, I’ve gotta show you.”

Dib reached into his backpack and pulled out a test tube full of green liquid.

“Look at this,” He shoved the vial in her face. 

“I told you, I don’t care about you and your dumb crush on Zim.”

“Just– listen to me just this once and I’ll let you bore me with your videogame stuff later.”

“You have my attention for the next 30 seconds. Just keep in mind that I will be holding you accountable should you break that promise”

“Yeah, sure, okay, so this,” Dib shook the test tube. “Is a vial of Zim’s blood. I got it when I shoved him through that window yesterday. I’m gonna ask Dad to do some tests on it, and when it doesn’t look like any human blood he’s ever seen, boom! It’s foolproof!”

“Why are you bringing it to skool?”

“So I can rub my sweet victory in his stupid green face.”

“That sounds vaguely suggestive.”

“You won’t be saying that when it saves the world.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Oh look, we’re here. That means you can leave me alone now.”

Gaz abandoned Dib at the Skool entrance. 

She didn’t get it. She’d never get it. Not even Dib’s own sister understood that the fate of the planet was in his jacket pocket. 

Dib made his way to the 5th grade classroom where he was doomed to spend the rest of his life, or so it felt. Time always seemed to stand still when he stepped through that door, as if he was entering some alternate dimension designed to torment him with the idiocy of his peers and the biting cynicism of his teacher. 

As he walked through the portal into purgatory, he was greeted by an all-to-familiar face.

“Good morning Dib-human.”

“Good morning alien scum. How’s your day been?”

“Well, I spent all night picking glass shards out of my face after you shoved me through a window, but other than that it’s been great.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Speaking of yesterday, while you were unconscious I managed to obtain a little something off your person.”

Dib took the test tube out of his pocket and held it in front of Zim, shaking it so that the green fluid sloshed and bubbled.

Zim's smile was wiped off his face ad he visibly started to sweat.

“You know what this is, don’t you Zim?”

Dib sat on Zim’s desk, holding the vial up to the fluorescent lights that illuminated the classroom. 

“This is your blood. Interesting color isn’t it? You know, human blood typically isn’t green. Human blood doesn’t fizz like Poop Cola when introduced to water. I’m willing to bet human blood doesn’t look like this under a microscope. I’m going to take this back to my dad’s lab. I’m going to have the world’s best scientists perform every test imaginable on it. And when they’re done, I’ll finally have evidence that everything I’ve been saying is true. The government will probably come in to do some incredibly invasive tests, and I’ll finally be graced with the sight of your guts spilled over an autopsy table. Won’t that be fun, Zim?”

Zim gulped. Dib had him exactly where he wanted him.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and the deafening sound of cicadas filled the classroom as Mrs Bitters entered.

Shocked by the suddenness of her entrance, Dib jumped and dropped the vial, which shattered and spilled its contents all over the floor.

Zim laughed triumphantly.

“Foolish humans and your inferior containment technology!”

Dib sat staring at the floor in shock. He was so close, and now his sweet victory was lying shattered on the filthy skool floor.

“Dib! Get off Zim’s desk and clean up that mess.”

“Yes Mrs Bitters,” Dib sighed as he stepped out into the hallway to get a rag from the janitor’s closet. 

He cut himself on the shattered glass while wiping up the bubbling green liquid. Thankfully there were still some [adhesive medical strips] leftover from the last skool fundraiser over by the pencil sharpener. After sadly wringing out the dirty, glass-shard-filled rag into a trash can, Dib slumped back to his seat as the day’s lesson began.

Mrs Bitters was talking about something relating to the Cold War and nuclear annihilation, but Dib couldn’t pay attention. Some time into the lecture the back of his neck started itching like crazy and he couldn’t focus on anything else. He was almost in a sort of trance as he lost himself in the scratching.

“Dib!”

“Huh?”

“If you can’t stop scratching please remove yourself from the classroom. You’re being a distraction to the other students.”

“Who the hell is getting distracted by that?”

“I’m sorry Dib, but I just can’t focus on what our lovely teacher is trying to tell us with you flailing around like that.”

Fuck you Zim

“Well I can’t focus on anything with your stupid alien face staring at me from across the room,” Dib muttered under his breath, still aimlessly scratching his neck as he made his way out the door for a second time. 

Dib would not return to the classroom for the rest of the skool day. He was too salty about his master plan being foiled by a cheap test tube.

Gaz met him outside the building for their walk home.

“So how did it feel to rub your ‘sweet victory’ in Zim’s face?”

“Like cleaning-up broken glass from the classroom floor.”

“Oh, I’m soooooo sorry to hear that. You owe me a favor by the way.”

“What?”

“For your rambling earlier. I decided forcing you to watch a gaming session wasn’t enough of an exchange for the 30 seconds of my time you wasted. Now you owe me a favor, I can cash-it-in at any time, understand?”

“No! Tha-that doesn’t make any sense!”

“Trust me Dib, you do not want to fight me on this.”

Dib decided this was not a hill he wanted to die on.

“You’re right, Gaz, I really don’t.”

“Why are you scratching yourself?”

Dib had almost forgotten about the itching. He didn’t even notice that he was still scratching his neck.

“I don’t know, I just started itching in the middle of class today and it hasn’t stopped.”

Gaz, lacking a witty response, decided not to probe further.

The two of them walked the rest of the way home in silence. When they returned, Dib made himself some microwaved popcorn and went to his room to sulk.

Why do these things always happen to me? I try to save the world and the universe treats me like this?

He didn’t have the motivation to do his homework, or shower, or get out of bed, so he lay there, staring at the ceiling, stuffing his face with popcorn until he fell asleep. Maybe tomorrow would be better.

Chapter Text

Dib woke up the next morning just as depressed as the night before and not quite ‘all there’. He knocked his glasses off the nightstand while reaching for his alarm and fumbled to get them off the floor after he flopped out of bed. The itching had stopped, but he was too groggy to notice. 

He shuffled over to his closet and yanked down one of his shirts. The plastic hanger broke. He grabbed his jacket. The collar ripped. 

Fuck.

He slumped over to the bathroom to be greeted with the familiar sound of running water. Of course Gaz was in there.

“Gaaaz, can you hurry-up in there?”

“Not if you keep whining like that!”

So Dib sat outside the door, holding his bundle of clothes and broken hangers in his lap. Bored and impatient, he began picking the bandages off his fingers. The insides were soaked in a mixture of his blood and Zim's, and his injuries from the previous day had completely healed. Weird.

A few minutes later, Gaz stepped out and stared at Dib for a moment.

“What are you looking at?”

“You’ve got  something on your face.”

“Why do you think I’m trying to use the bathroom?”

Dib crumpled-up his bundle of clothes and tossed them on the floor. He stepped in the shower and turned on the cold water. Expecting a refreshing cold blast to jolt him awake, he was instead greeted by a burning sensation unlike anything he’d ever experienced. 

Dib screamed in panic as he scrambled to turn off the waterfall of pain. He double-checked the dial to be sure Gaz hadn’t left the hot water on. Nope. The shower must have been broken. 

Dib hastily dried himself off and got dressed. He wiped some residual steam off of the mirror and brushed his teeth. After spitting into the sink, he noticed something green on his neck. Probably dried Zim blood from the incident the previous day. He wet a washcloth and rubbed the spot with it, with which he was greeted with more excruciating pain.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

This keeps getting weirder and weirder.

He rubbed at the spot with his dry hand. It wouldn’t budge. The more he grasped at it the more it became clear that it was somehow embedded into his skin. 

What the hell is happening?

Dib decided to cut his losses and just comb his hair, but even that was met with unexpected resistance. The comb kept snagging on some invisible thing and it hurt. A lot. Was this the “hair tangles” Gaz sometimes complained about? Trying to push through only hurt more so he decided personal hygiene was not a battle worth fighting that day. Between his humiliating defeat yesterday, and all the weird shit going on, he just wanted to get through the day.

He decided to zip-up his jacket to try and cover-up the green spot, and then made his way to the kitchen.

Once again, his dad had already left for work. The one downside of having a world-famous researcher as a father, he never seemed to be home. And when he was home, he always seemed to ignore Dib. Dib never quite understood why. Was he not a fellow scientist in pursuit of world-changing knowledge? Were they not literally formed of the same DNA? 

The cereal box empty, Dib rifled through the fridge for leftovers. He found some bacon in a re-sealable bag and stuck it in the microwave. 

Gaz was already at the table eating some hard-boiled eggs.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your jacket actually zipped before.”

“I decided to try something new today. Is there anything wrong with that?”

Dib sat down and dug-in to his breakfast. It actually wasn’t too bad considering it had been sitting in the back of the refrigerator for who-knows-how-long. He considered this a sign that maybe today wouldn’t be so shitty after-all.

This time, Gaz started-up the morning’s conversation on the walk to school. 

“You doing ok Dib? You’ve been acting funny this morning and you really don’t look well.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just had a rough morning. Don’t worry about it.”

Dib was not fine. While the burning from his shower had subsided, his skin still felt tingly in an unpleasant way. As the walk grew longer, he was starting to feel nauseous. There was some kind of high-pitched ringing in his ears that had just popped-up out of nowhere. And with every step closer to the skool building he felt more and more than he was going to-

*blegh*

“Fucking hell, Dib! If you’re going to puke at least try to aim away from me! ‘Don’t worry about it,’ my ass.”

Dib had effectively spewed his guts out all over Gaz’s skirt.

“No, I really am fine. I’ll be more fine once I get to sk-”

Gaz grabbed Dib by the shoulders and glared directly into his eyes.

“Dib. You know I hate your guts but as your sister I cannot allow you to go to skool like this. You look like absolute shit and you are going to make all your classmates miserable just by being in proximity to them.”

“But I need to get a new blood sample from Zim! What part of ‘the fate of the world lies in my hands” don’t you understand.”

“Yesterday I told you you owed me a favor. I’d like to cash-it-in now. I want you to go home. Take a rest. And stop thinking about Zim for ten fucking minutes.”

“But-”

“You promised Dib. I’m going back home to get a new skirt and if you don’t come with me I will drag you back crying and screaming by your stupid cowlick.”

Dib could tell she was serious. 

“Fine. But now you owe me a favor.”

“Whatever it takes to keep you from puking on all our classmates.”

When he returned home Dib decided now was probably a good time to do that homework he’d neglected the night before. Multiplication tables. Did kids actually find this stuff difficult? He had it done in about a minute. 

He went back to his room to dig through his Zim files. So maybe he lost his most crucial piece of evidence, that was nothing rambling to the Swollen Eyeball Network couldn’t fix. He grabbed his laptop from under his bed, flipped it open, and-

No internet connection.

Fuck

By this point, Dib’s arms and legs had started to ache, only adding to his discomfort. Bored out of his mind, sore all over, and generally feeling like shit, he once again resigned to his mattress. The ringing in his ears was getting worse, but he could’ve sworn he heard muddled voices through the noise. 

Maybe I really am going crazy .

He tried to sleep the pain away, but the noise kept him awake, so he lay in bed, unmoving, for the next three hours.

Suddenly, he heard the distinct sound of the front door opening. Gaz was home. Dib was going to have to admit she was right for once.

Gaz opened his door and entered his room to check-in on him.

“Hey Dib, I just wanted to apologize for earlier but you’ve gotta understand that-”

She paused.

“What is it this time?”

“What did you do while I was gone?”

“Did some homework, felt like shit, questioned my own sanity. Why?”

“I think you should look in a mirror.”

“Why?”

“You have a little something… everywhere. It doesn’t look good.”

She seemed genuinely worried. This made Dib start to panic. His heart racing, he practically leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. He threw open the door and rushed to the mirror and he could not believe what he saw.

The green spot had grown in size and was spreading up his neck and onto his face. He unzipped his jacket and saw it further spreading to his chest and shoulders like a rash. He saw something poking out of his hair, two somethings actually, and poked at them with his finger. His headache immediately worsened as the ringing got worse. His right eye appeared to have a pink tint to it, and just… something about looking at his reflection gave him a deep sense of shame and disgust.

What in the world is happening to me?

“Gaz? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?”

“Don’t look at me, I know as much as you do.”

I really shouldn’t have eaten that bacon this morning .

“You know, with all that green and the antenna you kind-of look like Zim.”

Zim!

Of course. Who else could be behind this. That little bastard was going to pay.

“Gaz, do you still have that baseball cap from when you were in Little League?”

“Yes, why?”

“Can I borrow it?”

“Sure, just try not to stretch it out too much.”

“Goddammit Gaz, my head is not that big.”

“Maybe not as big as your stupid ego”

Dib chose to ignore his sister’s taunting. If he was going out in public, he wasn’t going to humiliate himself. He went into his sister’s bedroom, tripping over power cables and grabbed her hat off the wall. He went out to the coat closet to get one of his dad’s lab coats. It was way too big, but the collar was more than enough to cover up the discoloration that was spreading to his face. He met back with Gaz in the living room.

When Gaz saw his get-up she burst into laughter.

“Oh god,” she wheezed, “What– the hell- are you wearing?”

“I’m not letting anyone else see me with green splotches on my face and weird growths coming out of my skull.”

“You can’t think of any better ideas?”

“Come on Gaz, I’m trying to maintain some semblance of my dignity here.”

“Well you’re doing a *haha!*- a really shitty job at that! Ha! Where are you going anyways?”

“To Zim’s house. That little shit did something to me, I know it. And I’m going to fucking murder him if he doesn’t fix me.”

Gaz held back her laughter long enough to make a serious suggestion.

“Hold-on Dib. Are you sure this is the best course of action? We could just wait until Dad gets home. Maybe he knows something about this.”

“Dad never gave two fucks about me. He never helps me with my science fair projects, he never listens to me when I try to warn him about Zim, he barely even acknowledges my existence anymore.”

Dib’s eyes began to water.

“What makes you think he’d be willing to drop everything to help me?”

Gaz’s laughter instantly vanished.

“Dib, y- you know that’s not true.”

“That’s easy for you to say when you’re clearly his favorite. You only exist because I’m such a disappointment. He sees me as a failure because I didn’t turn out like him, and he made you just so he could raise a child he could actually be proud of. You know that as well as I do.”

“What? Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s true and you know it,” Dib was sobbing. His face stinging with every tear that ran down his cheek. “Now, if you don’t mind,” he sniffed, “I’m going to Zim’s house, and if you know what’s good for you, you aren’t going to follow me.”

Gaz stood in shock. She had no idea Dib felt this way about her.

“Hey, be careful when you close the-”

As he left, Dib promptly got the long sleeves of his coat stuck in the door.

“Gaz? A little help here?”

There’s no way he actually thinks that, right? Gaz thought to herself as she opened the door and watched her brother storm down the street, tripping on the labcoat every step of the way.

When he finally made it to Zim’s house, Dib picked up the trailing end of the coat and stormed up to his doorstep. He pounded furiously on the door until it seemed like it was about to be flung off its hinges.

“Zim!” He yelled, “I know you’re in there!”

No response.

“Come out and face me you fucking coward!”

He was still holding back tears.

A few seconds and some mechanical whirring noises later, and Zim opened the door.

He appeared to be tired or sick, his eyelids barely staying open. Dib could hear Gir letting out a series of unholy screeching noises a few rooms away.

“Why on Irk are you dressed like that?”

“Zim. What the fuck did you do to me?!”

“I’m sorry Dib-monkey but I have no idea what you’re talking about. Gir’s been acting-up lately and I haven’t had time to plot anything, much less run any experiments on you. If anything, it looks like you’ve brought this on yourself.”

Dib’s frustration was quickyl replaced with anger. He took a couple of deep breaths and did his absolute best to restrain himself.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” Dib said through his teeth. “There is absolutely no way that this…”

He removed his hat and shed his dad’s labcoat, revealing the worsening green rash that was continuing to crawl up his neck and the growing antennae poking out of his hair.

“... isn’t your doing.”

Zim paused for a moment, confused. He looked Dib up and down, and then his eyes became fixed on the top of Dib’s large head.

“What is it this time? Did you poison me? Are you trying to turn me into lunch meat again? Is this just some humiliating joke? Do you think my suffering is funny, Zim?!”

Zim stared for a moment, paused to think, and then burst into uncontrollable laughter.

At that moment, Dib snapped. All day he had been tortured and humiliated and he couldn't take it anymore. This was the last straw.

Dib lunged at Zim, pinned him down, and began to strangle him.

“My day has been absolute hell. I tried to shower this morning and now I’m in excruciating pain. I’m pretty sure these fucking antenna have been picking up every high-pitched frequency in a 20-mile radius and it’s giving me a splitting headache. I threw-up my breakfast, my sister won’t stop mocking me, and my dad won’t even acknowledge my existence. I don’t know what your game is Zim, but I swear-to-god, if you don’t put me back to normal in the next 24 hours I will tear you limb-from-limb and mail your decapitated head directly to the Mysterious Mysteries writers room. Do you understand?”

Zim flailed his arms and legs as he struggled to breathe. Dib loosened his grip on the Irken’s neck just enough for him to gasp and whimper out a response.

“F-f-f-fine, I’ll help you with your stupid skin condition!”

Dib picked Zim up by his collar and stared him directly in the eyes.

“I-I’ll help you on one condition.”

“And what is that?”

“I’ll help you…. If you promise to not interfere with any of my future plans for conquering Earth.”

Dib paused for a moment, weighing his options. Save the planet, or himself.

He released Zim and shoved his left hand into his jacket pocket. He stuck-out his right hand towards Zim.

“You’ve got yourself a deal. Let’s shake on it.”

Zim, trembling as he got up off the cold, hard concrete, accepted the gesture and the two shook hands. Zim however, while fearing for his life, had not noticed that in his pocket, Dib’s fingers were crossed.

“Follow me, I guess.” Zim said. He hesitated for a moment before actually letting Dib in. This was the first time he’d invited him into his home on ‘friendly terms’, if you consider being violently threatened friendly that is, which Zim clearly did not. Dib gathered-up his ‘disguise’ and followed him inside.

Being ‘welcomed’ into Zim’s lair felt wrong to Dib on a deep, profound level. It was strange to just walk through the halls without climbing in through a window or hiding in the ventilation system. 

Gir was in the kitchen, apparently trying to cook and squealing with glee every step of the way. What exactly he was trying to cook wasn’t entirely clear, but there were strange discolored globs of something stuck to every surface.

“Don’t mind Gir, he’s been doing that all night. I think he’s trying to make tacos or something. He’s not a bad cook, but he doesn’t clean up after himself.

Dib crammed his hat back on and covered his ears.

“How do you live with this?”

“Usually I can stick him in front of the TV and he’ll shut up, but last night he went into some sort of manic frenzy and I can’t get him to stay still, much less be quiet. The entrance to the lab is over here by the way.”

Zim led Dib through the house and into an absolutely filthy bathroom.

Dib recoiled in disgust as Zim climbed into the toilet bowl.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“What? You come down here to spy on me like, twice a week, how’s this any different?”

“Yeah, but I don’t flush myself down the fucking toilet.”

“I would like to inform you that this is not a mere earth-toilet. This is a highly sophisticated sanitation device designed to keep your human germs away from my secret mission. Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then get in the toilet, Dib.”

Dib began to protest but Zim picked him up and shoved him in the toilet bowl himself, then pressed a red button on the wall.

Dib was immediately blasted in the face with some mist that smelled strongly of bleach and window-cleaner. As he was removing his glasses so he could wipe them off, the platform he was standing on dropped suddenly and violently as he descended into the depths of Zim’s lair. Through the transparent elevator tube, he was able to take-in his surroundings, a grey-and-purple mess of tubes, screens, and wires, and take a moment to contemplate what was actually happening.

What the hell have I gotten myself into.

Chapter Text

The elevator down to Zim’s lair was a long drop, and when he finally reached the bottom, Dib carefully stepped out of the tube. Again, something just felt wrong . This was Zim’s house, the same place he’d been hundreds of times before, but something was different, like some deep-internal feeling was drawing him deeper and deeper into its core. Against one wall was a massive console with dozens of screens and hundreds of buttons and knobs. Something about it felt almost mesmerizing, magnetic, even.  There was a touch screen, perfectly shaped for Zim’s four-fingered hand. Dib reached out, just to touch it with one finger, just to see what would happen. He could feel his antennae twitching with.. Something. Anticipation? Fear?

“Hey, don’t touch that!”

Just as he was about to make contact, he was suddenly yanked back by the back of his shirt. Zim had extended some kind of robotic limb from his backpack-thing. 

“You promised you wouldn’t be sabotaging my mission anymore.”

“I-I wasn’t. I was just-”

“Hehe. Stupid, stupid, Dib. Even if I let you touch my stuff, you wouldn’t be able to open it. It only responds to Zim’s DNA. I got the tech from this ‘mall security’ guy. Pretty cool, right?”

“Mall.. security?”

“We got into a spat a while back while I was returning one of Gir’s overdue video-disks. I led a prison break, he sic-ed a horde of zombies on me, but we’re all good now. He sends me weapons and stuff sometimes.”

Dib decided he was just going to pretend he understood anything in that sentence.

“Anyways, what did you need me for again?”

“Dude, we literally just talked about this.”

“Oh, sorry Dib, I couldn't hear you over the sound of my windpipe being crushed .”

“Ummm, I don’t know, all this! The green, the itching, the water.. These stupid things?”

“You mean that’s not your feeble attempt at a disguise?”

“What? No! Stop lying to me, this has your name written all over it.”

“Already told you Dib, I have no clue what you’re talking about. Get to the point.”

“Oh, so it’s a coincidence that you’ve fucked with my genes in the past, set-out to publicly humiliate me, and gotten me suspended from school, and it just-so-happens the day after I get this close to exposing you to the world, I’m suddenly violently ill, and then I get out of bed to find myself suddenly developing traits from your species!”

Dib’s left antenna began to twitch in anger. Zim’s right began to twitch in fear. Suddenly, Dib’s mind was filled with a wave of aimless noise and his head began to hurt once again. This time was different though. This time the pain was so intense he felt like his skull was being split open, but within a fraction of a second, it was all gone. He couldn’t even remember it happening. He wasn’t sure what, but something in the back of his mind told him Zim was telling the truth.

“You actually have no idea what’s happening to me, do you?”

Zim shrugged.

“What took you so long, dirt-monkey?”

Dib sighed as he slumped onto the floor.

“You don’t know how to get me back to normal, do you?”

“No, but I can try.”

“What?”

“A deal’s a deal Dib-human. If it’ll get you off my back for good, I’ll do whatever it takes to return you to your normal, hideous self.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? Shouldn’t you be trying to turn me inside-out or something?”

“You’re not an active threat anymore. When we partook in your Earthenoid “hand-shaking” ritual you vowed not to interfere with any of my future plans, so I have no reason to fight you.”

Keep telling yourself that, Zim.

“You’re not worried at all about me, say.. spilling your secrets?”

“Everyone on his Tallest-forsaken planet thinks you’re delusional. I’ve made it this far already despite your futile attempts at espionage, so I don’t think you blabbing your fat mouth is going to make things any harder for me. Especially since your main source of ‘evidence’ is rotting in a skool trash bin.”

Okay, that was a bit unnecessary.

“Before you return to your wretched earth-den I would like to run some tests.”

“Umm, ok. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“No, but right now it looks like Zim’s your only option so I guess you’re going to be learning along with me. Now, I’d like to start by taking a look at your Squeedlyspooch

“Dude, we’ve been over this before, humans don’t have Squeedlyspooches, we have digestive tracts.

“Okay, do you mind if I remove your ‘digestive tract’ to run some tests?”

“What the fuck? No! I need that!”

“Was worth a try. I’ll try to think of something else.”

More robotic limbs sprouted out of Zim’s back. They shifted around in a delicate yet coordinated dance, weaving through a maze of wires and consoles, sifting through drawers and frantically pressing buttons. It was a strangely beautiful display. Somewhere in the tangle of mechanical parts Zim produced some kind of Chemistry set-up and began frantically mixing colorful fluids.

“You said human blood was distinctly… not green, right?”

“Yes? I’m worried about why you’d be asking me that.”

“I think you should probably take a look at this.”

Zim was holding a teast tube filled with a weird greenish-brown sludge.

“What is that?”

“A sample of your blood.”

“Wh- when did you take a sample of my blood?”

“My observations of human children show that your kind does not take kindly to having your fluids removed non-consentually. The inquiry about removing your organs was a mere ruse to take a sample while you were distracted.”

One of his extended robotic legs dropped a test tube of the same liquid into Zim’s free hand.

“With my limited knowledge of human anatomy there’s only so much I can do. I can give you some of the test results at skool tomorrow but if you want comprehensive data you’re going to have to do some stuff on your own time.”

He handed Dib the test tube.

“What makes you think I can run blood tests at home?”

“Your parental figure is the science-human on TV right?”

Great. Even Zim knows I’m related to that neglectful piece of –

“Yes. Wait, how do you know about my dad?”

“Gir watches that program sometimes. Honestly it’s some of the more palatable sources of entertainment your planet has to offer. And it also happens to be a valuable source of intel on your pathetic excuse for technology. Speaking of inferior technology, try not to break this one.”

“You’re not going to let me forget about that, are you?”

“I shall be reveling in your failure until the end of your miserable human life.”

Dib glared at Zim as he snatched the test tube from his gloved hand.

“I guess I will be seeing you tomorrow, then,” Dib said through his teeth as he gathered-up his lab coat and made his way back to the elevator tube.

Zim said nothing. He just waved goodbye with an obnoxious smile on his face.

What are you up to, Zim?

He may not have been responsible for any of that day’s nonsense, but something was definitely up with him. That guy was planning something.

When Dib re-emerged in the empty, dirt-covered bathroom from which he had entered Zim’s lair, Gir was standing in the doorway, covered in grease and clutching a burrito close to his chest, and blankly staring at him.

“Oh, hi.. Gir,” Dib said as he climbed out of the toilet-elevator. “If you’re looking for Zim, he’s downstairs doing lab stuff.”

Gir tilted his head and continued staring back.

“Do you.. want something from me?”

Gir walked up to him and quietly offered him the burrito.

“Do you, uuh, want me to have this?”

Gir nodded.

“Um, thanks, I guess.”

“Aren’t you gonna tryyy it?”

“Not right now Gir, I need to get back home.”

“ Pleeeeaassseeee.”

As much as Dib hated Zim, even he had to admit there was something endearing about his robot companion. He almost pitied Gir for being roped into all this inter-galactic conquest stuff. Something about him just radiated a blissful ignorance and contagious positivity that should have been annoying, but somehow wasn’t. Some deep part of his mind couldn’t help but think this was all a ruse to get him to let his guard down, but everything about Gir just seemed so genuine. He felt sorry for the little guy, and he hadn’t really eaten anything that day. The least he could do was accept this peace offering. 

He took a bite out of the burrito. It wasn’t horrible. 

Huh. I guess Zim was right. He’s not a bad cook at all.

“Mmph. That’s not bad. Thank you Gir.”

“Nooo problem!”

Dib shoved the rest of his dinner into his mouth as he fumbled-around with the lab coat. 

It was getting dark out anyway, so he decided trying to put the thing back on would be too much of a hassle.

When he returned home, Gaz was on the couch playing some first-person shooter game. Dib couldn’t tell which one, they all looked the same to him.

“How’d murdering Zim go?”

“Oh, I ended-up… not.. doing.. that. He’s kind of-”

“What? Couldn’t bring yourself to kill your boyfriend?”

“Gaz, how many times do I have to tell you, I do not have a crush on Zim. What would that even look like anyways?”

“It looks like whatever you two have going on. So what happened to change your mind? You seemed pretty dead-set on annihilating him last I saw you.”

“He didn’t do it. Normally I wouldn’t believe him if he said something like that but I’ve got this gut feeling. He’s actually helping me now. He said he’d do it if I left him alone for a while and I figured that was a fair price to pay if it means I won’t be a hideous freak for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself Dib. You were already a hideous freak, now just a little bit more so.”

“Thanks for the compliment? By the way, is Dad home yet? I need to ask him something.”

Gaz shook her head.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with earlier, does it?”

“* sigh * No, I just need access to the lab. I’m sorry about that by the way, that outburst. It’s just… you know…. “

“I get it. Don’t worry. I wish he was home more too.”

The two sat in silence for a few seconds.

“So what’s your plan for skool tomorrow? No offense, but I don’t think that, ” Gaz pointed at the wadded-up lab coat, “is going to help much if the goal is to not draw more attention to yourself.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“A couple. The first of which is to ditch the secrecy all together since you’re vastly over-estimating the intelligence of your classmates.”

“They’re stupid, not blind. I’m not going to skool like this. What’s your other idea?”

My brother’s a dumbass , Gaz thought to herself.

“I’ll tell you in the morning. I’m kind of busy right now.”

She pressed a few buttons and blasted the heads off of some zombies.

Dib decided it was best to leave her alone. The last time he’d interrupted a Gaz Gaming Session it did not end well. Lord V0X3LR0T could be absolutely brutal when her sweet, sweet immersion was broken. He shuddered at the mere thought of what she did to him last time. Never again.

Dib hung his dad’s lab coat back in the closet where he’d gotten it from and made his way to the bathroom for the third time that day. Instead of blasting himself with hot water again he decided to turn on the shower first, and then stick his hand in to see what would happen. Even with only his fingertips running underneath the coldest temperature the plumbing could produce, it still burned like hell. 

Dib was starting to regret all those times he’d pelted Zim with water balloons on the walk to skool. He’d have to ask him about that tomorrow.

He brushed his teeth, returned to his room, and changed into his pajamas for the evening. The green had spread to most of his chest and upper-arms.

God, I hope this stops by tomorrow morning.

He put Gaz’s hat on the nightstand next to the alarm clock. When he took it off, the electric noise from every appliance in the house began to fill his brain. 

Stupid fucking antenna

He turned off the lights, flopped onto his mattress, and crammed a pillow over his head. 

This would be a long night, but hopefully it would all be over soon.

Chapter Text

Dib woke up earlier than usual the next morning. It wasn’t by choice. It was trash day and the beeping of the garbage truck sounded quite a bit louder than usual. Dib blamed the antennae.

He put on his glasses and glanced at the alarm clock. 6am. He could have tried going back to sleep, but he’d just be woken up again by the alarm in an hour anyways, so he decided it wasn’t worth it and got out of bed.

Dib’s first instinct was to go back to the bathroom and check on the damage. He stepped up to the sink and looked in the mirror. The green had spread to cover the entirety of his neck and was creeping on to his cheeks in a patchy pattern. The sclera of his right eye had gotten pinker and its iris was turning a shade of bright red. He could see more green creeping down his arms from under his t-shirt. The antennae looked like they’d grown longer, but he couldn’t be sure.

Fuuuuck

Might as well check-in on the whole water thing while he was there.

Dib turned on the cold water and carefully inched his finger towards the running faucet. When it made contact, he once again felt that burning sensation, but this time it was somehow worse. It wasn’t just burning, it was burning while thousands of insects crawled under his skin all up and down his arm and hundreds of hot needles pierced his skin.

Dib hit the ground and clutched his wrist in a desperate attempt to cope with the agonizing pain. 

“Goddammit! What did I do to deserve this?”

It took a few minutes for the last of the pins-and-needles to dissipate. Even after the initial shock, a series of heat waves and assorted tingling sensations of varying intensity continued to pulse up and down his forearm. Zim was going to pay for this.

His morning thoroughly ruined, Dib got up off the floor and went back to his room. He pulled out his laptop.

[No Internet Connection]

Great

Normally Gaz dealt with the wi-fi router when it was down, but Dib was this close to tearing that thing apart and trying to fix it himself. 

He heard the sound of Gaz’s alarm going off from a few rooms away and made a mad dash to her room. He knocked on the door repeatedly until a very tired and very pissed-off Gaz opened it.

“What do you want?”

Gaz looked like she was about to beat the living shit out of Dib for bothering her this early in the morning.

“The wi-fi’s down. Aaand you said you had a plan to make me not look like a freak at skool.”

“You smell like you haven’t showered in two days”

“That’s because I haven’t. My skin feels like it’s on fire when I get wet and I just spent like 5 minutes lying on the floor because I tried to wash my hands. But that’s not important right now. Do you have a plan or not?”

Gaz took a deep breath, looked at her brother for a moment, and turned to head back inside.

“Give me one second. I’ll be right back.”

Gaz closed her door and disappeared into her bedroom.

What is she doing in there?

She returned a few minutes later armed with a bottle of air-freshening spray, which she promptly spritzed in Dib’s face.

“Gaz!”

“What? It’s part of the plan. Come on in, but don’t touch anything. I don’t want your greasy alien-fingers all-over my stuff.”

Dib had to finish wiping his glasses off before following her inside.

Gaz began digging through the depths of her closet until she found what she was looking for. Buried under containers of game cartridges and boxes of old consoles. It was a small plastic container, caked in dust from years of non-use. Gaz blew the dust off before returning to Dib. 

“What is that?”

“It’s a makeup kit. I think it was a birthday gift from someone a few years ago. I don’t remember who gave it to me but that’s probably a good thing for their sake.”

“How’s that going to help us?”

“I’m gonna try to cover-up those green spots. Sit down and hold still, I’ve never done this before.”

“Where?”

“Over by the bed. I’m not getting this shit anywhere near my PC setup.”

Dib sat down and leaned back against the side of Gaz’s bed. She followed and stood over him for a moment, eyeing his antennae.

“I think they’ve gotten longer.”

“Yeah, I know. I’d rather not think about it- Ow, don’t touch them!”

Gaz was flicking at one of Dib’s antennae.

“What does it feel like?”

“It hurts, stop it!”

It didn’t really hurt, but it wasn’t comfortable either. The noise in his head got worse with every poke and prod. Dib tried to shove Gaz away but she just climbed on the bed and continued to torment him from above.

“So does it hurt if I do this ?”

She grasped his left antenna in a fist and tugged on it. Now it really did hurt. It felt like a shockwave was being sent through his skull.

“Yes! Please, Stop! Can’t you tell I’ve been through enough already?” Dib shouted as he stood up and grabbed Gaz’s wrist. He took a series of deep breaths as he sat down next to her.

“Jeez, sorry. I was just curious.”

“Please.. Don’t do that again.”

Dib looked Gaz in the eyes, and she quietly nodded her head.

“Can we just get this over with? I need to meet with Zim so he can actually fix me.”

Gaz flipped open the makeup case, revealing an assortment of colored powders and a couple of tiny, plastic brushes.

She grabbed Dib’s face in one hand, picked up a brush with the other, and began to rub the stuff into his skin.

“Gaaaz!”

“Hold still, Dib! You don’t want this stuff in your eyes, do you?”

“You’re squishing my face!”

“Do I look like I care?”

The brush felt scratchy and the powdery stuff kept getting in his eyes.

“Are you done yet?”

“Almost. Stop whining!”

“But it’s scratchy !”

“There! I’m done! Take a look.”

Gaz handed Dib a tiny, plastic mirror shaped like a flip-phone. There was a pink flower sticker in the center obstructing most of the view, but by holding it at a distance he was able to make out his own reflection.

The green spots were still there, but they were now a weird pale color, just different enough from his light tan skin to be noticeable.

“I look like I have some kind of skin condition.”

“Oh yeah, because you totally didn’t before. Look, Dib, you wanted my help, and this is the best I’ve got. If you don’t like it, I’m sure Dad will be thrilled to find his lab coat covered in filth from being dragged along the dirty sidewalk all day.”

She made a good point. If Dib wanted to get into Membrane’s lab he needed to stay on his good side.

“I guess it’s better than nothing.”

He hopped off Gaz’s bed and headed back to his room, pausing and looking back at his sister as he reached the doorway.

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me out. It’s been a rough couple of days.”

“Don’t worry about it. That’s what siblings are for. Now please, get out of my room. I’d like to get ready for skool.”

Gaz marched out of her room towards the bathroom, leaving Dib standing in her doorway. He fidgeted with the flip-phone mirror a bit as he returned to his room, flicking it open and closed and picking at some of the rhinestones on the lid.

He heard the shower turning on as he opened his closet door and grabbed a fresh shirt. Some of Gaz’s makeup smeared on the edge of the head-hole. He put on a clean pair of jeans, grabbed some shoes, and zipped-up his jacket. 

Dib felt a weird lump in his pocket.

Oh yeah, the vial .

He pulled out the test tube Zim had given him. The brown sludge had separated into a green layer on top and a smaller, dark red layer on the bottom. 

That’s odd

He swished the vial in a circular motion. The green began to fizz and a miniscule portion of the red seemingly disintegrated, becoming absorbed into the expanding green mass. 

This is still my blood, right?

Dib went over to his desk, opened a drawer, sifted through it, and pulled out a petri dish. He set the dish on the desk and poured out the fluid. He’d have to take a closer look at it after skool.

Dib had popcorn for breakfast. After the bacon incident, he wasn’t going to take his chances with the fridge.

The walk to skool was largely uneventful. Gaz was wearing a rather bulky pair of headphones and wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

When they arrived, Zim was leaning against a tree by the sidewalk, waiting for Dib.

“You look diseased.”

“I’m sorry, but I’m not letting our classmates see me with green spots all-over my face. Unlike you, I actually care about keeping up appearances.”

“Maybe, unlike you , I don’t waste my time worrying about what human children think.”

A moment of awkward silence passed.

“I don’t know what you did, but I would like to thank you for whatever you did to fix Gir.”

“Huh?”

“For whatever reason he stopped his cooking frenzy after your little visit last night. I couldn’t get him to calm down all day, and you shut him up in less than an hour. I commend you for that.”

Dib couldn’t recall doing anything to “fix” Gir. He’d seemed fairly sane during their interaction the night prior.

“Ummm, you’re welcome, I guess. How did those blood tests go? Did you find anything that could potentially turn me back to normal?”

“Yeah, about that. I’m going to need you to come over again today. Some of the test results lead me to believe I might have accidentally contaminated the sample during preparation, I need more of your blood.”

“I’m not giving you any more of my blood, Zim.”

“So I suppose you’ve been making breakthroughs in your own research?”

“No. I.. haven’t had time. Although I took a look at it this morning. It seems to have, umm, separated, somehow? I’ll show you later, it’s kind of weird.”

Zim just looked at him.

Dib sighed.

“I’ll bring it to your house after skool. I’m not letting you extract any more of my body fluids. It’s weird.

The bell rang, signaling that another miserable skool day was about to begin. The noise shook Dib to his core. He pressed his hat against his head in a futile attempt to block out the sound.

“How do you deal with this shit on a daily basis?”

“Eh?”

“You know, the noise. Your antenna do that too, don’t they?”

“Maybe your inferior human brain just can’t handle it.”

When the two of them made their way to the classroom, Dib was stopped at the door by Mrs Bitters.

“You can’t wear that inside, Dib.”

“Huh?”

“Your hat. It’s a distraction to the other students.”

Not this BS again.

“Mrs Bitters, can you hear me out just this once. You see, Zim-”

“I don’t have time for your excuses. It’s against the dress code. Give me your hat or I’ll have to eject you from the classroom.”

Dib reluctantly removed his hat and braced himself for ridicule.

“Hand it over.”

Wait, can she not see them?

Dib ran his fingers through his hair until he felt the base of an antenna.

Yep. They’re still there. 

He handed Bitters the hat and looked towards Zim for a potential explanation. Zim just shrugged.

“You may take your seat now, Dib.”

“Oh, right. Sorry Mrs Bitters.”

Dib scanned the classroom as he walked towards his seat, searching for some kind of reaction from his classmates. Disgust, snickering, the standard throwing erasers in his general direction? Nothing. Maybe he really was overestimating the observational skills of his peers.

Mrs Bitters stood up and addressed the class.

“As you all know, today we will be having a test on yesterday’s lecture. For the two of you who weren’t here yesterday,” she glared at Dib and Zim. “I will not be showing leniency in your scores.”

Dib gulped. Zim started nervously tapping on his desk. 

Mrs Bitters weaved around the grid of desks, slamming the test packets onto each wooden slab with a loud *thud*. As soon as he received his test, Dib began frantically flipping through the pages trying to figure out what the fuck he was being quizzed on.

Bloodborne diseases? Retroviruses? Weren’t we doing multiplication tables two days ago?

The consequences of missing almost 2 days of class were starting to rear their ugly heads.

There were nearly twenty pages of this incomprehensible nonsense. All open-ended questions. No multiple choice. Dib tried to glean hints by glancing at someone else’s paper, but had no luck. Zim scribbled something on his test and placed it on Mrs Bitters’s desk with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Thank you Zim. You’re dismissed for the day.”

Zim stuck his tongue out at Dib, taunting him as he sauntered out the door.

He probably didn’t even try. 

Dib went back to staring at the blank test, almost as if he was expecting an answer to just suddenly materialize if he strained his mind hard enough. 

A couple of hours passed. The lunch bell rang. Dib got up from his desk, ready to embrace the brief moments of freedom that lay ahead.

“Sit down, Dib. You haven’t finished your test yet.”

“But that’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair Dib. Sit down and finish your test.”

Dib wouldn’t finish the test for another two hours. After watching classmate after classmate turn in their packets and walk out the door, he just gave up. His butt couldn’t take sitting at that desk any longer. He quickly scrawled “Zim is an Alien” on the back and nervously handed it in.

Mrs Bitters gave him a weird look, but she reluctantly handed Dib his hat back and gestured towards the door.

Zim was waiting outside the building.

“What took you so long?”

“Do you want something, or are you just here to gloat?”

“Oh I’m sorry Dib-monkey, I thought you wanted my help.”

“Dude, I haven’t had lunch yet. Can you at least let me grab something to eat first?”

“You can eat at my place. Now come on. I want to get this over with so I can get back to my plans for conquering Earth.”

Dib reluctantly followed Zim home. 

Gir was digging a hole in the front yard, his dog suit caked in mud and dirt. Whatever he was doing, he seemed too busy to notice.

Zim made a beeline for the kitchen and began rummaging through his fridge until he pulled out a little plastic packet.

“Here, you can eat this.”

“What’s that?”

“Irken Dipping Stik. It’s food.”

Dib opened the packet to find a candy stick and a purple powder.

“Are you kidding me? This looks like pure sugar.”

“Well it’s all I have. Earth food makes Zim sick. Take it or leave it.”

“What happened to all the stuff Gir was making last ti-”

“Just eat the sugar packet earth-boy.”

Dib nervously stuck his finger in the powder and licked it. It tasted like bubblegum. He felt slightly less hungry. He needed more.

Dib poured the rest of the packet down his throat. His hunger fully subsided. He felt a sort of buzz in his antennae as the white noise that had been following him around all day finally dissipated. He’d almost forgotten it was there, but that sound of pure silence brought with it a special kind of relief. For the first time in days, Dib felt truly sane.

“Wha- what is this stuff?”

“You said it yourself. 100% Carbon, Hydrogen, and Oxygen.”

“Huh?”

“Pure, concentrated sugar.”

Zim grabbed a can of soda, closed the fridge, and began walking towards the bathroom.

“That can’t be it . You have to have drugged me or something. There’s no way sugar is the thing that makes the noises stop.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dib.”

Zim climbed into the toilet and lowered himself into the basement.

He’s hiding something.

Dib followed after him, this time shielding his face from the disinfecting mist.

When Dib emerged from the elevator and into Zim’s lair, Zim was sifting through a drawer of sciencey-looking tools.

“No, Zim, you can’t just brush me off like that, you know something I don’t and you’re hiding it from me.”

Zim pulled out a large syringe with a long needle on the end.

If Dib was drugged, he was praying it was something strong. He did not like where this was going.

“Zim, I told you I’m not giving you any more of my blood, and I’m especially not letting you stick me with that .”

“You were fine with it last time.”

“You fucking tricked me last time!”

 “Oh, potato potahto. Just hold still for a second.”

“You know what? Just give me that. I’ll do it myself.”

Dib grabbed the needle from Zim’s hand, plunged it into his thigh, and pulled the syringe himself. The tube began to fill with the brown sludge, extremely slowly.

It hurt. A lot. Trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, Dib bit his tongue, trying not to scream in pain. He yanked the needle out of his leg before the syringe could fill completely.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“I just stabbed myself with a fucking needle, Zim. What do you think? Here. This is all you’re getting from me.”

Dib handed Zim the syringe, which he placed in a small compartment in front of his computer.

Dib still felt a weird throbbing in his leg where he’d made the blood extraction. A small amount of blood was seeping into his pant leg.

The largest screen flickered to life in a mosaic of shapes, colors, and symbols in an alien language.

“That can’t be right,” Zim muttered as he read through the deluge of new material.

“What does it say?”

Zim pressed some buttons, and a massive keyboard rose out of the console in front of him. He frantically typed, and the screen changed to display a three-dimensional view of some kind of tangled mass.

“This is noyingalase. It’s a protein only found in Irken smeeteries. Assuming Gir hasn’t gotten into the main computer again and these results are accurate, this analysis shows your blood sample has a high concentration of it. Irken bodies are full of the stuff but I have no idea what it’s doing on earth, much less why it’s inside you. You haven’t been to any off-planet black markets recently, have you?”

Dib gazed at the screen as he began to zone-out, processing all that information. 

What is that stuff? How did it get in my bloodstream? What the hell is a smeetery? 

A million thoughts raced through his mind as he tried to piece everything together.

What does this mean? What the fuck is happening to me? I can’t be like him, can I? What if my whole life has been a lie and-

*bonk*

Something hit Dib on the back of the head, snapping him back to reality.

Zim had one of his robotic appendages extended. It didn’t take long for Dib to put two-and-two together.

“What the hell was that for?”

“You weren’t moving. I was checking if you were still alive.”

Dib wanted to say something witty, but came-up empty. Looking at Zim, he felt a kind of hollowness inside him that he couldn’t explain. 

He could feel some kind of vibration in his antennae and the muffled sound of thunder echoed throughout the room. 

Shit.

Now was probably a better time than never to ask about that.

“Zim?”

“Eh?”

“Do you remember that time I, uuuuh, threw a bunch of water balloons at you?”

“How could I forget? One of my greatest victories.”

“Yeah, so, I’ve noticed you’ve been a lot more.. tolerant.. of water since then.”

“So?”

“Lately I’ve been dealing with some.. hydrophobia, myself. I was wondering if you could, maybe, tell me, what you do to counteract that.”

Zim stopped to think for a moment. Dib figured he was probably trying to decide whether or not this information was worth sharing. He wouldn’t blame him if that was the case. After all they’d put each other through, he’d probably be reluctant to give out advice too.

“I bathe in skool glue,” Zim said. “Water slides right off it, doesn’t even make contact with skin.”

“How do I know you’re not just messing with me?”

“You don’t. You’re going to have to trust Zim.”

It wasn’t like Dib really had another option.

“I guess you’re right,” Dib sighed. “Do you have any extra I can borrow?, just to like, rub on my face or something? I think a storm’s coming. I don’t want to walk home with acid falling from the sky.”

Zim thought for a moment. 

“Follow me Dib-stink.”

Zim led Dib to some kind of storage closet in the darkest corner of his evil lair. He pulled a lever, opening the closet door and revealing a cluttered mess of.. Stuff. It reminded Dib of the space under his bed.

Zim grabbed a rope from the pile and tied one end around his waist, then handed the other end to Dib.

“What’s this for?”

“My surplus glue supply is somewhere in there. I might need you to pull me out if things get dire. Usually I’d have Gir do it but who knows where he is right now.”

“What, are you worried about getting lost in there or something?”

“Yes. Also I’m pretty sure that Snarlbeast is in there somewhere.”

Dib decided he wasn’t going to question that.

“So, do you just want me to stand here holding this?”

“Yes, and if you feel a tug, pull me out. If it’s violent, pull faster. Zim does not want to become cat food today.”

Zim began to burrow into the mountain of filth, taking coils of rope with him.

How big is this closet?

The faintest sound of a downpour seeped into the chamber as the storm outside intensified. 

Hurry-up Zim. I just want to go home.

A minute passed, then five minutes, then fifteen.

What’s taking him so long .

He felt a couple of tugs on the rope and started pulling Zim out of the trash heap. Eventually, he emerged clutching a giant barrel, larger than he was.

“What the hell is that?”

“The glue you requested”

Zim untied himself, closed the door, and climbed on top of the barrel to pry the lid off.

With the pop of the lid, Zim tumbled backwards and fell on the floor. He quickly got up, brushed some congealed goo off his.. shirt?.. and proudly presented the spoils of his journey.

Dib stared into the giant vat of white goo.

“You want me to swim in that?”

“Precisely.”

What am I even doing here?

“What are you waiting for earth-monkey? Are you going to jump in or not?”

“Not with you watching me like that!”

“Sheesh, you humans and your privacy. Fine, I’ll leave you alone for a minute.”

Zim walked back to his console and began working on something.

Am I really doing this?

Dib put his glasses in his back pocket and tied his jacket around his waist. 

Yep, I’m really doing this.

If Dib was going to be dousing himself in glue, he was going to do a test run before covering his whole body in the stuff. Just his upper body for now. If it worked, he might try covering his lower half later. Maybe. He was not taking his clothes off in front of Zim. He was willing to sacrifice one t-shirt, though.

He awkwardly leaned over the edge of the glue barrel and gazed at his reflection in the pale liquid. 

His warped, hideous reflection.

On three. One. Two. THREE!

Dib dunked his face, arms, and chest into the milky white paste and almost immediately pulled himself back out, coughing and gagging. He was pretty sure he’d swallowed some of it. He could feel glue dripping from his hair. It was slimy and unpleasant.

Dib put his glasses back on and noticed  Zim watching him from a few feet away.

“Fuck you Zim.”

“Likewise earth-boy.”

Dib was restraining himself from smacking that smug look off Zim’s face.

“I think I’m going to go home now.”

“As you should.”

“And you’re sure this’ll protect me from the rain.”

“Given your human biology there might be a slight chance of contracting skin poisoning but yes, it should keep you safe from the ‘rain’.”

“ Skin poisoning! Why didn’t you tell me that before I ruined my favorite shirt?”

Dib was still dripping glue. He could feel massive globs of the stuff sliding down his back. Zim was still smirking at him like this was all a cruel joke.

“Didn’t cross my mind until now.”

Another thunderclap, this time louder, sent more vibrations through Dib’s body. He wondered if Zim could feel them too. 

I genuinely hope you get struck by lightning, Zim.

Dib gathered-up his things and went back to the elevator. When the doors opened Gir tumbled out, falling on his face. Something was rattling in the tiny robot’s skull, almost like it was trying to escape.

Is he okay?

Dib gently nudged Gir away from the elevator with his foot. He glanced at Zim.

“Is this normal?” he asked, pointing at Gir, who was lying nearly lifeless on the floor, his dog suit soaking wet from being outside in the rain.

“Don’t worry about him. He’s probably just got a chipmunk or something in there.”

Gir suddenly sat up and waved at Dib. Whatever was inside his head was still trying to escape.

Dib awkwardly waved back as he backed into the elevator. He breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed and he was lifted back to the surface. It was pouring rain outside. 

It was going to be a long walk home.

Chapter Text

“Gir!”

“Yes master?”

“Is the Dib-beast gone?”

“I think sooo.”

“Good. I can’t let him know about this.”

Zim pressed his hand onto the biometric scanner and pressed some buttons. A workbench rose out of the floor. Piled on top of it were tools, spare parts, and a partially-deconstructed Irken PAK.

If Zim’s hunch was correct, Dib was slowly dying, and this was the only thing that could save his life. He could sit back and watch with delight as his greatest nemesis slowly perished, but no, he needed Dib alive. His plan wouldn’t work otherwise. Dib was the key to conquering this miserable dirtball of a planet, and Zim wasn’t about to let that key slip away from him.

*thwap*

Something hit Zim on the side of his head. Something alive.

What did that idiot bring in here this time?

Zim looked back at Gir. Gir was dancing around and waving his arms in the air. 

“Gir! What did you bring in here this time?”

Gir paused, to think for a moment, and then pointed upwards.

Zim glanced upward

It was a horrible flying thing that was covered in hair. It was emitting a series of harsh, squeaking noises as it frantically flapped its ugly, flat arms and aimlessly fluttered around the lair.

Zim scrambled under his console in terror. He didn’t know anything about this creature. It could be venomous, it could rip him apart and lay eggs inside him, it could multiply and he’d be left with hundreds of these things.

“What is this terrible beast?!”

“I made a new friend !”

“Get it out of here! It could compromise our mission, or worse!”

“I named him Barry .”

Of course he gave it a name.

“Gir, I want you to take.. ‘Barry’.. and get him OUT OF MY BASE!”

“Yesss sir! Barry, can you come down? Pleeease! ”

‘Barry’ didn’t seem to hear nor care.

Zim decided to stay put for now, for the rest of the night if he had to. He didn’t want to be anywhere near Gir’s latest ‘pet’.

While his poor, insane SIR Unit tried and failed to corral his new friend, Zim carefully extended two PAK Legs to gather his project and some tools from the workbench. If he was going to be cowering in fear he could at least be productive while doing so.

Note to ZiM: Ask Dib-human about flying hair-beast

Chapter Text

Dib’s walk home was a mad dash to safety as he sprinted through the pouring rain and deep puddles. The water began to soak into his shoes, socks, and pants as each step created a bigger and bigger splash. It felt like his legs were being submerged in acid  

Upon reaching his own doorstep he burst through the door and made a beeline for the bathroom, shedding his soaking wet jacket along the way.

He rushed to the bathroom, slipping and falling on the smooth tile as soon as he passed through the doorway.

He desperately clawed at his ankles as he grasped for his socks and flung them across the room. One of the socks hit the shower wall with a *splat*. 

The pain didn’t go away instantly, but removing the saturated garments granted Dib some mild relief. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

And so he sat there, in his underwear, on the cold, bathroom floor, waiting for that acid feeling to fade. His breathing was heavy and rushed, his teeth were clenched, and he was digging his fingers into his thighs as he tried to cope with the sheer agony. He didn’t cry, he didn’t scream. Not a peep left his mouth. Some deep feeling told him vocalizing would only make things worse. So he sat in silence for the next several minutes, or so it felt. His mind was too caught-up in everything else to register a sense of time.

Even once the worst of the burning subsided, the pins-and-needles kept lingering.

Dib couldn’t keep living like this. He needed to get his hands on some more glue.

He slowly got up off the floor, picked up his wet clothes, and carefully tip-toed around the small drips that littered the ground as he made his way back to his room to get a change of pants and start looking for some hydrophobic crafting paste. 

“Hey Gaz, do you have any school glue lying around? I need like, twenty bottles for- oh shit.”

Just down the hallway, his face ever obscured by the collar of his labcoat and a pair of thick safety goggles, was Professor Membrane.

The Professor was almost never home. Between managing his research laboratory, filming his show, and frequent public appearances, to Dib, at least, it seemed like he was always looking for some excuse to avoid spending time with his children. On the rare occasion Membrane wasn’t away doing something work-related, he would hide away in the basement, tinkering-away on his personal projects. The man was an enigma, somehow both absent and omnipresent at the same time. Even in his absence, his essence permeated every aspect of Dib’s life. He couldn’t go anywhere in the house or the outside world without seeing one of his father’s inventions or some clip of his show on tv. He couldn’t tell anyone his last name without someone saying “Oh, are you related to Professor Membrane?”. Even in a theoretical world where he could escape all that, Dib’s own genome was a near-perfect copy of the Professor’s. Short of re-writing his DNA, there was nowhere Dib could go where he wouldn’t be living perpetually in the shadow of a father who never even bothered to address him by his name.

“Oh, hello, Son! 

“Dad? You’re home?”

“Yes. We’ve gone a whole week without any accidents in the Lab, so I’m taking the week off. I don’t like leaving the lab boys unsupervised, but they seem to have a good grasp on the genetically-modified squirrel project. Anyways, how has your day been?”

“Well, I just got back from Zim’s place because I’m pretty sure hes been doing some weird alien stuff t-”

“That’s nice, son. I’m going to go work on something in the basement. Please don’t interrupt me unless the house starts burning down.”

And with that, the Professor walked away and locked himself behind the steel basement door. Even when he was taking a break he was too busy for his kids.

Gaz was playing video games in the living room. Dib decided to go sulk on the couch for a bit and let the pretty pixels distract him from what was probably the shittiest afternoon he’d ever experienced.

He slumped down on the couch next to his sister. As usual, he had no idea what she was playing, but the player avatar was a cute sheep thing.

Gaz’s mood seemed to sour the moment Dib sat down, as if he was eminating some kind if negative aura that made his mere presence too much for her.

“Well, you look miserable.

“Dad’s home”

“I heard”

“He brushed me off again. I swear, sometimes he just acts like I don’t even exist!”

“Have you ever tried just talking to him?”

“Yeah. He never takes me seriously. ”

“About anything other than Zim?”

Dib was silent.

“That’s what I thought. You know, you keep saying you want him to come home more, but when he is, you don’t really do anything to justify him staying .”

Gaz’s player character slashed its way through a cluster of enemies and a chest materialized in the middle of the screen, showering it in gold.

“What are you playing?”

“Cult of the Goat. Trying to gather some resources so my followers don’t have to eat literal shit for breakfast.”

Her character moved on to a new chamber and a boss fight initiated. 

“You’ve got something in your hair, by the way.”

“What?”

“Your hair, it looks like you’ve got some weird, grey crust over it.”

Dib poked at his cowlick. It felt stiff and dry. The glue must have dried. That was going to be pain to get out later.

“Oh, that’s probably the glue. It, uh, helps with the water thing. You wouldn’t happen to have some in your room would you?”

“I do. But I’m not giving you any.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I need it for a skool project. And I enjoy watching you suffer.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Sorry glue-boy. Maybe tomorrow. Could you mind taking your moping somewhere else? You’re kind of sapping all my focus here.”

The boss monster turned into a cute frog creature and followed Gaz’s character back to a campsite.

Dib got up and went back to his room. Maybe he had some glue stashed in his desk or something. He looked through his desk drawers, his closet, and under the furniture.

Nothing glue-related, but he found something interesting under his bed.

It was a microscope; a birthday gift from his dad, but it had been sitting against the wall for years, unused and nearly forgotten. Gathering dust, like Gaz’s cheap makeup set. 

Maybe he could get some use out of this.

He slid the microscope out from under the bed, opened the box and carefully removed its contents, the microscope, a set of blank slides, a pack of slide covers, a pipette, and a flimsy paper instruction manual. He set the manual and slides on his desk alongside his blood sample from the day before. He thumbed through the manual until he found the page on preparing slides.

Place sample on slide.

That seemed easy enough. Dib tried to use the pipette to transfer some of the blood sample. It took a couple of tries, the already thick fluid had coagulated in the time he was away from home, but with some effort he was able to get a small, brown glob onto the center of the glass slide. 

If your sample is solid, cover it in a few drops of water. If your sample is liquid, continue to the next step.

Was it a liquid? It certainly wasn’t a solid, and Dib didn’t really want to go near the sink. 

Hold the cover perpendicular to the slide surface and carefully slide it towards the edge of your wet sample, then carefully angle it downward over the sample before releasing it.

That was easier than I expected.

Dib cleared some folders off his desk to make space for the microscope. For its size, it was a lot heavier than he thought it would be. 

He slid the slide onto the stage and clamped it down. He tried looking through the lens, but all he saw was darkness.

He double-checked the manual to make sure he didn’t break it somehow.

Fortunately, it wasn’t broken. He had just forgotten to turn it on.

This time he saw a mixture of different-colored blobs. Big blobs, small blobs, smooth blobs, spiky blobs, green blobs, reddish blobs, grey blobs. None of the blobs were really doing anything, but it looked like something was happening in the space between them.

Dib spun the zoom lens to the next magnification. Now it looked like something was happening. His left antenna twitched in anticipation as he adjusted the focus and the microscopic world came into view. The fuzzy edges of the blobs slowly became more crisp, and the vague, green haze between them started to clear as-

* TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP*

Dib was startled by a loud tapping on his window. He looked over and saw two red eyes peeking from under the windowsill, reflecting the light emanating from his room.

Great. What does he want now ?

Zim had done some weird shit, but following Dib home like this was something he’d done surprisingly infrequently. Usually it was him spying on Zim’s house instead of the other way around.

Zim rapped on the window again.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

Dib got up and slid-open the window just a crack. It was still raining out and he didn’t want to let the rain in.

“No ZIm, I am not letting you into my room in the middle of the night. You know, most people are asleep at this hour.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m still trying to figure out what you did to me. What do you want?”

“I told you a hundred times already, I didn’t do anything.”

“*sigh* Why are you here, Zim?”

“Gir brought a disgusting Earth-beast into the base. I do not want to share living quarters with it.“

“So you’re scared.”

“Zim is not scared ! Zim just does not want to be in the same room as the flying hairball and would rather crash on the Dib’s couch for the night.”

He is not serious right now.

“Zim, I’m not letting you spend the night. Do you have any idea how weird that is? Besides, Gaz’ll never let me hear the end of it. What makes you think I’d let you crash on our couch anyway?”

“Because I haven’t tried to kill you all week.”

Dib slammed the window shut and went back to his desk.

“Oh, so that’s how you treat someone who’s currently trying to save your fucking life !”

Zim’s hands were caught in the window frame. Dib watched as he struggled and strained to free his squashed fingers. Zim managed to free himself but had to abandon his left glove in the process. He glared accusingly through the window as he slinked away into the night.

Dib watched his nemesis flee for a few seconds before the implications of his parting words began to truly set-in.

Hold on, save my life? What does he mean ‘save my life’? Am I fucking dying ?

Dib threw open the window and called out for Zim, but it was too late. The Irken was gone.

He seemed to have left his glove behind though.

Dib picked-up the article of clothing and examined it. The glove was made of some kind of rubbery, lightweight textile. It was dry, presumably coated in the same hydrophobic adhesive in which Dib had submerged himself earlier that day. Curious, he shoved his own hand into the glove. It was incredibly ill-fitting, likely because it was meant for Zim’s slightly larger, four-fingered hands.

Even if he couldn’t use it for its intended purpose, as far as Dib was concerned, this was a valuable piece of intel, and he needed a place to display it so he could relish in this small victory. He pulled open a drawer by his bedside and began fishing for some thumb tacks. When he found what he needed, he went to pin Zim’s glove to his corkboard, alongside every other piece of evidence he had gathered since the alien’s arrival on Earth. He stuck it next to an index card with the word  “ROCKET?” scrawled on it alongside a crude doodle of Zim’s ship.

As he stepped back to admire his work, the door jolted open and Professor Membrane poked his head in through the door.

What does he want?

“Son, is everything okay? I thought I heard shouting.”

Again with the “Son” talk. 

Dib couldn’t remember the last time his father addressed him by his name, if ever. Maybe he regretted naming his children “Dibbert” and “Gazlene”. Sometimes Dib wished he had a boring name like “Tommy” or “Fred” or something. Maybe then his dad wouldn’t treat him so much like an afterthought.

“Yeah, I’m fine dad,” Dib retorted  “Not like you would care anyway,” he muttered under his breath.

“Look son, I was talking to your sister and I- oh my Higgs Boson!”

“What? Am I in trouble? Whatever it is, Gaz did it first and-”

“You’re finally using the microscope I got you for your 5th birthday!”

Oh.

His face was still obscured, but Dib could have sworn the Professor was smiling.

“Yes, I’ve been using it to look at this blood sample, can you leave me alone so I can get back to doing that.”

“Oh. Sorry, son. It’s just.. I didn’t realize you were interested in my field of work. I’ve waited twelve years for this moment and it’s finally arrived.”

Was he crying? Dib didn’t see any signs of tears, but the Professor’s voice was unmistakably wavering. Membrane was not the type to openly show emotion like that, and Dib had grown so accustomed to the same, matter-of-fact tone, that his father expressing anything other than sheer apathy felt like a breach of the fundamental laws of nature.

“What did you say you were observing? A blood sample? Can I take a look?”

He seemed weirdly excited, like a small child who’d gotten everything he asked for on his birthday list. 

“Uuuuuh, sure?”

Membrane awkwardly leaned over and fiddled with the focus knobs.

“Did you prepare this slide yourself? Very good. That’s an excellent staining job you’ve done here, although I must say, green is a bit of an unorthodox choice of color.”

Sure. ‘ Staining’.  

“What were you and Gaz talking about?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you were talking to Gaz about something.”

“Oh, yes. She was telling me about all the things you’ve been up to while I’ve been gone.”

“Oh.”

“She says you keep throwing yourself into dangerous situations to impress your little friend group. Now look, Son, what you do with your free time is none of my business but if you’re going to keep putting yourself in danger, maybe it’s time to move-on from this little ‘magics-and-aliens’ phase of yours.”

“It’s called Paranormal Research, and it’s a legitimate field of study. Get to the fucking point.”

“Language, son.”

Dib rolled his eyes.

“ Sorry , Dad.”

So anyway, she had me thinking, if all this excitement is happening while I’m not around, maybe I should find a way to stay home more often, so I can keep an eye on you two.”

There is no way he’s being serious right now.

“Don’t you have your ‘world-changing’ Laboratories and your stupid TV show to worry about? I thought you couldn’t leave the ‘lab boys’ unsupervised.”

“I’ll find a way to monitor the labs from here. If I can attend your parent-teacher night from work there’s nothing stopping me from doing the reverse. And I’ve already informed the network that I’ll be taking some time off to spend with my family. I know all this might seem sudden, but I just want what’s best for you and Gaz, and if that means spending some time away from work that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”

He was dead serious. 

Dib didn’t know how to feel about this, so he tried to get the conversation back on track.

“So, uh, what do you think -about the sample?”

“It looks like there might be some kind of bacteria forcing its way into the healthy blood cells.”

“What?”

“Here, see for yourself. I messed with the focus knobs a bit so you should have a clearer image now.”

The Professor slid the microscope back over to Dib, who carefully looked through the viewing lens. The view was a lot clearer, so he could see the green bits forcibly wriggling their way into the large blobs and bursting back out.

“Do you see those tiny green things?”

“Yeah?”

“Those are the bacteria. If you look closely you might catch one permeating the outer membrane of the erythrocytes - those are the big flat ones.”

Dib took another look through the microscope. He didn’t know what the little green things actually were, but they sure-as-hell weren’t bacteria, and he had a suspicion they were Irken in origin.

“Would you say these ‘bacteria’ are ‘invading’ those host cells?”

“You could phrase it like that. Although such behavior is unusual for species of bacterium. Normally you only see this in viruses.”

“So this blood sample is filled with tiny, green invaders ?”

“That’s a very sci-fi way of putting it, but yes.”

Interesting

The Professor started to walk out of the room, pausing in the doorframe to address his son one final time.

“You know, words truly can’t describe how happy I am that you’re showing an interest in the Natural Sciences. You know, if you decide this is something you want to pursue, I’d be more than happy to show you around the Labs sometime, just to give you a better idea of what it is I do.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yes. Just let me know, ok?”

“Okay,” Dib nodded. “Yeah. I will definitely do that.”

The Professor was practically glowing with excitement.

Maybe there was something to this ‘real science’ after all. 

“Wonderful! I shall alert the laboratory management and begin scheduling our visit. Oh and son?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t ever touch my lab coats again.”

Chapter Text

It was movie night aboard The Massive.

Well, not really “night” since they were floating through space with no real day/night cycle, but Red was bored and Purple didn’t care enough to correct him on the semantics, so “Movie Night” it was.

They were watching an Earth film, one of the few good things to come from Zim’s bogus “mission”. This one was about an interplanetary empire asserting control over a growing resistance movement.

Red was tossing popcorn at one of the navigators.

“My Tallest, I’m afraid I must respectfully ask you to stop. These instruments are highly sensitive and if your snack food gets in any of those vents the jets could stop working and we would be stranded in space.”

“Is that bad?”

“Yes!”

Red strained and tried making a pinching motion with his fingers, although his lack of thumbs made that rather difficult.

“What are you doing?” asked Purple.

“I’m trying to see if this ‘Force’ stuff actually works.”

“Don’t strangle the navigators, Red. I don’t want to get stranded in space because of your stupidity.”

Then, something appeared on the screen. Something more terrifying than giant space monsters, or growing resistance movements, or being stranded in space. 

[ Incoming Call From Invader ZiM… ]

“Shit.”

“What do we do?”

“Can’t we just ignore him?”

“We tried that last time. He’ll just keep calling us.”

“Remind me why we didn’t just execute him like every other defective worker drone?”

“Because with our luck he would have waltzed right out of the execution chamber like nothing happened and then destroyed half the planet.. again.”

“So do we answer it?”

“I don’t think we really have a choice.”

Red nervously pressed a button on the ship’s control deck, and the screen changed to a direct video feed into Zim’s base of operations. Zim was sitting on the floor tinkering with a random gadget.

“Zim, is this about that human again?” Purple sighed.

“Yes, actually. How did you know?”

Red and Purple glanced at each other.

“We had a hunch.”

“Make it quick, Zim. We were in the middle of a, uuh.. important meeting.”

“Then I will keep this brief. The Dib-beast seems to be going through some kind of molt, and I believe I can exploit it to our strategic advantage. – Gir, don’t open that! We can’t let the flying hairball escape! – As I was saying, for this flawless plan to work I’m afraid I’ll have to take some time away from the mission. I need to return to Irk because for some reason I don’t appear to have remote access to the Empire’s Archives. – Put that down, Gir. – Anyways, it should be a quick visit and I’ll be there and back within a week. - Gir!-”

Zim ran out-of-frame in a panic as his signal went out and the movie returned.

“No-no-no-no-no-no. He can’t come back ! The Control Brains would kill us for letting him live this long in the first place!”

Red thought for a moment, and then looked at the movie screen. One of the antagonists had been captured and frozen in a block of metal, presumably dead.

“Hmmmm, but what if we don’t.”

“Don’t, what? Don’t, what ?”

“We don’t let Zim live. We’ll send out an order to the whole Empire; we’ll put a bounty on his PAK. The moment he steps foot on Irken territory, zzzap . Our mistakes are corrected, our PAKs are saved, and our worries are over .”

“That’s tempting, but how do we know this isn’t going to backfire in our faces? Exiling Zim to Foodcourtia was supposed to solve all our problems, banishing him to an unexplored planet was supposed to solve all our problems. Heck, giving him a busted SIR Unit was supposed to solve all of our problems and look where that got us!”

“Well, do you have any better ideas?”

Purple stopped to think for a moment.

“I guess technically he wouldn’t be our problem if someone else had to deal with him.”

“Exactly. Gather every Messenger on this ship and tell them to send a transmission to every Irken-occupied planet: Use of unnecessary force in the apprehension of Invader Zim has been approved."

Chapter Text

For the first time in what felt like weeks – but was actually only two days – Dib felt normal. When he woke up, he didn’t feel like he was about to puke his guts out, he didn’t feel like he was soaking in acid, and there wasn’t any ringing in the back of his head.

Something had to be wrong. 

He threw off the sheets, got out of bed and immediately began inspecting the skin on his arms. As he feared, the green pigmentation had continued to spread. It had nearly engulfed his entire body, except for a few tan islands stubbornly persisting in the flood of green.

I really hope Gaz has enough makeup left to cover this up.

Gaz’s door was open and he could hear the shower running. At least he didn’t need to use it today.

“Gaz, are you in there?”

“What do you want, Dib? I’m kind of busy right now!”

“Remember yesterday when you helped me hide my gross alien face?”

“Yeah, so?”

“I was wondering if maybe you could do that again?”

“Can I get out of the shower first?”

“Yeah. I’ll wait.”

A few seconds passed and the shower noises stopped. A few more and the doorknob began to turn.

Gaz opened the door. She was wrapped in a towel and her hair was dripping wet. She looked like she wanted to punch Dib’s lights out, until she saw just how bad of shape he was in.

“Oh, jeez! Dib, you look -”

“Yeah, I know. Do you think you can help me cover it up again?”

“Dib, I hate to break it to you, but no amount of cheap foundation is going to fix that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish getting ready, and I can’t do that when you’re standing in the doorway.”

A puddle was beginning to form on the floor at Gaz’s feet. Dib took a couple of steps back.

“Any chance you’ve changed your mind about the glue thing?”

“If I say yes, will you leave me alone? I don’t want this to become a regular thing.”

“I can’t make any promises, but yeah, I’ll try.”

“Fine. Just get out of my way so I can grab it from my room.”

As he stepped aside to let Gaz through, Dib caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror. Much like the rest of his body his face was almost entirely green, save for a few splotches desperately clinging to their humanity. Both of his irises were a bright ruby and his teeth had a mild pink tint.

It was still getting worse, but at least he still looked human , even if he was turning weird colors. No one questioned Zim, and he didn’t even have a nose, so maybe there was a chance Dib could get through the day without drawing unwanted attention.

“You know what? It’s fine. This is fine. I can still pass as normal. Everything is going to work out just fine, I just need to do.. something. God, how did I even get here?”

“You know you’re not beating the insanity allegations when you mutter to yourself like that.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, Gaz!”

“Here’s your stupid glue bottle,” she tossed him a cylindrical, white container. “Can you stop bothering me now?”

“I’ll try.”

“No, you won’t try, you will . I don’t know how much more of your whining I can take before my head explodes or something.”

“Thanks, Gaz.”

Dib stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

I still can’t believe I’m going to do this.

He slipped out of his jeans, unscrewed the glue lid, and began rubbing the slimy, wet paste into his legs and feet like it was some kind of lotion. It felt wrong, very wrong, and very uncomfortable, but he did not want to take any more chances with the weather.

Now he just had to stay there for who-knows-how long and let it dry. Fortunately the skool glue didn’t take too long to harden.

After he put his clothes back on, Dib made sure to zip-up his jacket. It didn’t cover much, but it was better than nothing. 

So he opened the door, walked down the hallway, stepped into the kitchen and-

“Good morning, Son!”

Professor Membrane was standing in the kitchen. Decked-out in his lab gear, as always, although the collar of his lab coat was slightly unbuttoned, leaving the lower half of his face exposed. It was weird: seeing him with an actual face; like some fundamental law of nature had been broken and the world would collapse in on itself if he didn’t button-up his coat again. 

On the counter top was a rather conspicuous-looking machine that was making odd noises and emitting an ominous grey vapor.

“You’re still here?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not leaving for work?.”

The professor nodded.

“Are you going to be here all day?”

“Most likely. Come over here, have a seat. I’m making toast!”

“Really, Dad? Toast?”

“Not just any toast! It’s one of my latest inventions: SUPER TOAST™ ”

The Professor opened up the front of the device and carefully removed the “toast” with a set of tongs and handed it to Dib. It was slightly lumpy around the edges and covered in black scorch marks. It was cold to the touch and quickly crumbling apart in Dib’s hand.

“Why does it look like that?”

“It’s packed-full of all the proteins, vitamins, and carbohydrates of a healthy breakfast, all in one piece of toasted rye bread.”

“It looks burnt.”

“Nonsense. That’s just the polysaccharides. Your sister just had some and she said it tasted fine. Isn’t that right, Gaz?”

“Sure, Dad.”

Gaz was playing something on her GameSlave and really didn’t seem to care. Her “toast” was noticeably untouched.

This did not inspire hope in the Professor’s culinary skills.

Dib nervously took a bite out of the toast. It practically disintegrated the moment it touched his mouth.

“So, what do you think?”

It was very dry, very bitter, and, as expected, very, very burnt.

“It’s certainly something. You know, you should really try some for yourself.”

“You know what, I really should," Membrane noted as he picked up a slice for himself and took a bite. “Oh dear. This is horrible. Back to the drawing board, I guess. Solving World Hunger will have to wait another day.”

As he was putting away the toast machine, Membrane stopped and stared at Dib for a moment.

Oh no.

“Son, why are you green?”

Well, shit.

The question was bound to come up sometime, but Dib didn’t expect to have to answer it so soon.

“Well, you see, Zim was - Ow, Gaz!”

Gaz kicked Dib under the table and glared at him. She said no words, but the message was clear: “ Please shut up about Zim. ”

“Gaz, don’t kick your brother. Son, you may continue. What was it about your little friend?

“Nothing, nevermind. Uuuuh-”

Gaz might have a point. He’s not going to believe me if I try explaining the alien stuff. I have to think of something convincing the Dad won’t want to probe into. Maybe blaming something science-y will get him off my back about the paranormal stuff. … That’s it! The perfect excuse!

 “Sooo, uuhhhh.. You know the stuff that turned my microscope slide green?”

“The staining medium?”

“Yeah, that. I uhhhh, spilled a bunch of it on my sheets and I think it soaked into my skin overnight. Or something.” 

Please buy it please buy it please buy it please buy it-

“You should really be more careful with lab chemicals, son. You’re lucky it was just some green dye and not skin-eating acid. You should really tell me next time something like that happens, understand?”

Dib rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Dad .”

“Good. Now eat up. I’m driving you two to skool today.”

“Wait, what ?” Dib and Gaz exclaimed in unison.

“I’ve decided I’m going to start taking a more active role in your upbringing. My understanding is that most caregivers drive their offspring to skool, so that is what I will be doing for the time being.”

“Caregivers”? “Offspring”? Who-the-hell talks like that about their children? Someone who grew them in a lab, that’s who.

It would be a lot harder for Dib to distance himself from his father when the guy was dropping him off at skool where everyone could see them together.

“You can’t do that! I get made fun of enough already without my dad dropping me off every morning.”

“Yeah, and my friends will think it’s totally lame!”

At least Gaz and I are on the same page.

“Nonsense. Gaz, I’m sure your friends won’t care. Son, if you’re being bullied, maybe you should tone-down the paranormal stuff. I think your classmates would care more about that than whether or not you walk to skool. We will drive to skool today, and that is final.”

Membrane grabbed a set of keys from the counter and headed to the door.

“Well? Come along now. We don’t want to be late.”

Dib and Gaz begrudgingly followed him outside. It wasn’t like they had a choice.

The Professor’s car was parked by the sidewalk. It was a black van with the Membrane Labs logo printed on the side. It was surprisingly plain, given how flashy everything else about him was.

The clouds parted as the family walked down the driveway, casting an early morning sunlight on the three of them. Dib had never really noticed how tall his father was until he was literally standing in his shadow. He was an imposing figure, and he could easily pick up Dib with one hand if he needed to.The professor gave off an aura that commanded fear, respect, admiration even, and Dib could feel his antennae beginning to twitch as he got closer to him, his gaze shifting upward, his thoughts melting into a fuzzy haze.

“Son? Son!”

Dib snapped back into reality.

“Huh? What?”

“Are you okay? You’ve just been standing there, staring at me. Do you need something?”

“No, no. I’m fine, Dad.”

“Then you should get in the car so I can take you to skool.”

Dib had gotten so lost in his father’s tall-ness that he didn’t even notice they’d gotten to the car.

“Sorry.”

Dib opened the sliding door and climbed into a seat next to Gaz. The professor’s van was filled to the brim with science equipment, and there was barely enough space to accommodate the two of them in the back seat.

“What was that all about?” asked Gaz.

“I don’t know. but I think all this alien stuff is starting to get to my brain and I don’t like it.”

The car started and all the science equipment started ratting from the vibrations of the engine. It was loud and cacophonous and it reverberated through Dib’s antennae as the car lurched forward.

“So, tell me a bit about what you’re learning in skool right now.”

The Professor was rather awkwardly trying to start-up a conversation. Neither Dib nor Gaz particularly wanted to talk to him at that moment.

“Not in the mood for conversation. Got it. I’ll just, uh, focus on the road then, I guess.”

The car hit a speed bump and a handful of empty test tubes rattled as they fell to the ground.

Dib leaned in towards Gaz and asked her, “What did you tell him last night?”

“Huh?”

“What did you tell Dad last night that made him want to stay home and get more involved in our lives?”

“You really want to know?”

Dib checked to make sure the Professor wasn’t listening. Membrane seemed to be occupied with driving and stopping the mountain of folders in the passengers’ seat from falling into his lap.

“Yes.”

“I told him the truth. I told him about how you can’t go ten minutes without throwing yourself at Zim. I told him I’ve had to save your ass more times than I can count. And I told him you’re a fucking dumbass who doesn’t know when to shut up about aliens and vampires and shit. Why is that a problem? I thought you wanted him to be home more often.”

“I do, it’s just- not now, not like this. I just- I don’t know whether I should be happy he’s home or angry about how he’s practically abandoned us. I can’t tell if I should give up on getting him to take me seriously, I don’t know if getting him to believe Zim is an alien is a lost cause, I’m never going to get anything done while he’s constantly standing over my shoulder judging me, and I don’t know how long I can keep all this under control before he notices I have fucking antennae and send me off to some research facility, if I don’t end up in the insane asylum first because he obviously still thinks I’m crazy. And now I think I might actually be going crazy because I’m pretty sure I just went into a trance because I noticed how tall he is.”

“You went into a trance because of what ?” 

Gaz was clearly amused by the idea.

“You heard me. At least I think that’s what happened. That doesn’t matter, my point stands: there is something horribly wrong with me and I don’t want him sitting there with a front-row ticket to the freak show.”

“No one’s going to lock you up, Dib. I’m pretty sure that’s just a you and Zim thing.” 

The van hit a pothole and some kind of monitor tumbled to the floor.

“Don’t worry about that, kids! I’ll deal with it later. Oh, would you look at that, we’re here already.”

The Professor pulled up to the curb in front of the skool. A few kids stopped and stared as Dib and Gaz opened the door and got out of the car.

Membrane had one final message before he drove away:

“Have fun at skool, kids. I’ll be back to take you home at the end of the day.”

Zim was anxiously waiting by the sidewalk, holding what appeared to be a small trash bag, which was moving in a way that suggested whatever was inside it was trying to escape. His left hand was covered with a yellow dishwashing glove, obviously designed for human hands, as the pinky finger was sticking out at an odd angle without a digit inside it.

“What’s in there?” Dib pointed at the bag.

“This Earthen containment unit holds the flying pest that infiltrated my home base last night. Gir wouldn’t let me kill it so I would like to hand it off to you.”

So, a trash bag with a live animal inside it. Lovely.

“Go on. Open it.”

“Ew, no! For all I know, that thing could have rabies or something. Why can’t you just release it into the woods?”

“I was hoping you could identify it for me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I have something that might be of use to you, if you assist me.”

Zim dug through a pocket in his pants, pulled out a small device, and held it out to Dib with his properly-gloved hand. It was a tiny, metal thing, the size of a small walnut; mostly round, with one flat side, a button, and some wires poking out.

Dib stared at it for a moment, unsure if this was some kind of trap.

“What is that?”

“It’s a hologram projector. I had to re-calibrate it to be compatible with humans but it should restore your horrible human appearance, superficially, at least.”

It sounded too good to be true. There was no way Zim would just hand something like that over.

“Zim, if this is some cruel joke at my expense..”

“No, really. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Zim pressed the button, there was a brief flash of light, and-

Dib nearly jumped back in shock. That was obviously still Zim standing in front of him, but now he looked.. human. 

He had pale skin, ears, a nose, five fingers on each hand, and even his weird alien tunic had changed into some kind of sweater. The effect was uncanny.

“H-how did you do that?”

“Pretty neat, right?”

Zim pressed the button again and his disguise returned to its usual, primitive state.

“Have you had that thing the whole time you’ve been on Earth?”

“Yes. It’s standard-issue Invaders’ gear.”

“Then why don’t you use it, like, ever?”

“Because humans are stupid and ugly and they smell bad. Why would I want to look like them?”

Dib stared at Zim in disbelief. Zim looked back at him, confused.

“Do you want it or not?”

Dib reached out to take the device but cautiously retracted his hand.

“How do I know you’re not trying to fuck with me?”

“You don’t. You just have to trust me.”

Dib carefully took the device from Zim and put it in his jacket pocket.

“Open up the bag,” he sighed. “Let’s see this ‘horrible Earth beast’.”

“You’re not going to use it now?”

Zim looked somewhat disappointed. 

“Zim, you tried to break into my house last night. I’m not going to strap on some random piece of space tech just because you gave it to me. I will test this when I get home. Just hand me the bag so we can get this over with and get to class.” 

Zim nodded and handed Dib the trash bag. When he opened it, a very panicked bat shot out and flapped aimlessly around the skoolyard, sending several children running and screaming. One kid started crying that it was going to suck out all his blood and a few more fled into the skool building to take shelter.

God, my classmates are stupid.

There was something satisfying about the chaos. I felt like some kind of karmic justice was being inflicted upon them for those years of mocking Dib for his interest in the paranormal.

“Look at those idiots. Fleeing in terror like the world is going to end. Come on, everyone knows Vampire Bats spontaneously combust when exposed to sunlight. This is what they get for ignoring my presentation on undead creatures last week.”

“So it’s not dangerous?”

“Haha, no. It’s probably just a Brown Bat. It’ll crap in your attic but it’s not going to do you any actual harm.”

“Dib! What did I tell you about bringing live animals to skool?”

Ms Bitters was standing at the main entrance to the skool building, taking a brief break from her hall monitoring duties to make Dib’s morning just that much more miserable.

“That the skool is trying to avoid another ‘Pipi the Hamster Incident’ and it’s a health and safety hazard or whatever, I know . But that thing isn’t mine, I swear. Zim brought it!”

“Zita told me it came from that trash bag you’re holding.”

Snitch.

“Consider this a warning, Dib. The next time I see a live animal on these premises that’s an automatic detention. I’ll see you in class.”

Actually, Ms Bitters was pretty tall too…

No, no, no. Not right now. Snap out of it, Dib. You can’t let the weird alien shit win.

“Yes, Ms Bitters.”

Dib turned back to Zim.

“We should probably go inside. I really don’t want to get detention again because of you.” 

Zim shrugged, and the two of them went inside and entered the classroom.

He quickly went to his desk, sat down, got out a notebook, and began to write.

Class went by in a blur that day. Dib didn’t pay much attention, he rarely did. Everything the class was lectured on was either something he already knew, too depressing to have any practical use, or just plain confusing. At least that’s what tended to happen when he wasn’t out sick. The test from the day prior was confusing but at least that stuff seemed somewhat interesting. Today’s lecture just went in one ear and out the other.

Dib spent most of class scribbling in his notebook. It was the only reliable way to pass the time, and it gave off the illusion of paying attention. Over the course of the year he’d filled it with sasquatches, mothmen, ghosts, zombies, vampires, spell circles; after Zim first showed up more and more of the pages became covered with drawing of Zim, notes on his weaknesses, diagrams of all the alien tech he had brought to class, and meticulous lists of every suspiciously non-human thing he ever did. He never really thought when he filled these pages, he didn’t need to. Exploring the paranormal came naturally to him, even when he was confined to a pencil and a few sheets of paper.

Today, however, Dib was not taking notes about Zim, and he did have to think. He was creating a log of every thing that had happened in the past few days and trying to find the connection between Zim and his worsening condition. 

He could have fucked with my genetics again, but when could he have planted a device on me to do that without being noticed? I haven’t found anything stuck to my body recently. Did he go inside me again? No, he would've done way more damage with an opportunity like that. He said there’s some kind of alien protein in my bloodstream; did he inject me with it when I wasn’t looking? Is that what those weird blobs in the microscope were? What is his plan even? What does turning me into one of him have to do with taking over the planet? It doesn’t make any sense.

*thwap*

Dib’s copy of the previous day’s test was slammed on the table. On it was written one giant letter in bright red marker.

[F-, -5%]

What the fuck?

“I’m sorry, Ms Bitters, how did I get a negative score? That shouldn’t be possible.”

“Because you didn’t answer any of the questions and the one thing you did write is in indecipherable gibberish. You made my job harder than it already is.”

“Wha-, indecipherable gibberish?”

I wrote like, four words on that whole exam. What part of “Zim is an alien” is so hard to understand?

Dib flipped over the test packet and sure enough, his remark was still there, just as he’d left it.

Or was it?

Dib had to do a double take to make sure he was seeing it right. What he’d written didn’t look like English, or any other human language. 

But it did look like the alien symbols from Zim’s computer.

Dib flipped back through his notebook. Everything from the past few days was in that same alien script. 

What the actual fuck?

Zim had a lot of explaining to do.

The bell rang. It was lunch time.

Fucking finally .

Dib shoved the test in his other pocket. He’d ask Zim about it later.

It was “sloppy joe” day. Not Dib’s favorite lunch option – he wasn’t sure if the slop between those hamburger buns could even be classified as meat – but it was technically edible, which already made it ten times better than the Professor’s toast.

When he grabbed his lunch tray, all the other kids in line started to inch away from him. Dib was used to his classmates avoiding him but this seemed a bit ridiculous, even for them.

“Seriously, guys? Kicking me out of the lunch table wasn’t enough?”

“We don’t want whatever you have,” said a blonde-haired girl. “It looks contagious.”

“Well, it’s not. At least I don’t think it is.”

“Hmmm. I don’t care. I think we’re still going to avoid you.”

Good to see that my classmates are so concerned about my well-being.

Dib got a ‘sandwich’ from the lunch line and went to sit down. It was never hard for him to find a seat at lunch. He’d been effectively banned from sitting with everyone else and even the other outcasts didn’t want anything to do with him, so he was relegated to his own little table. Sometimes Gaz would join him or Zim would stop by to laugh at him, but for the most part, he sat alone.

Today however, Zim was already sitting there, gesturing as if he’d saved Dib a seat.

“Seriously, Zim? You’re sitting at my lunch table now?”

“I’m monitoring you. I have a few hypotheses about your affliction and I need to observe you to determine how valid they are.”

Great. I love being watched like a lab rat.

Dib put his lunch on the table and dug the wrinkled test paper out of his pocket and handed it to Zim.

“Any chance your ‘hypotheses’ can explain  this ?”

“When did you learn to write in Irken?”

“I didn’t. That’s the problem. Everything I’ve written down within the past 24 hours looks like that.”

“You know if you’re trying to expose me, doing so in an alien language is probably not the wisest move.”

“ Very funny, Zim. So this is Irken. Zim, why am I writing in your language and how do I stop it?”

Zim shrugged. 

“I don’t know. Just think really hard about not doing it, I guess? Zim doesn’t worry about that kind of thing.”

“Do all your papers look like this too?”

“Yes, but Zim doesn’t worry too much about the grades. Skool is only my cover after all.”

Dib sat down and picked up his lunch. Just looking at it was making him hungry.

“I never thought I’d actually look forward to skool lunch, but I think this is the first proper meal I’ve had in days.”

“Sorry to ruin the moment Dib-stink, but I don’t think you should be eating that.”

“What are you, my mom? I know skool lunches are full of carcinogens but I ate burnt toast for breakfast, I literally had a sugar packet for dinner last night. I need to eat something .”

“Well you can’t eat that . 

“You can’t let me eat lunch in peace, can you?”

“Irken intolerance to human food is a serious thing, Dib.”

Dib thought for a moment. He knew all too well how severe Zim’s food allergies were, but he was also tired of Zim being right. He wanted to take a bite out of the sandwich just to spite him. 

“Screw you, Zim. I’m hungry. I’m going to eat what I want.”

So he did.

It tasted like soap and it made his mouth feel tingly. 

He spat it out almost immediately.

“I told you so.”

“Well, what do you want me to eat instead Mr Lifestyle Coach?”

Zim slid a colorful packet across the table.

“What is this? An alien candy bar?”

“No, it’s an Earth candy bar. Your planet’s junk food is the only reliable sustenance I can get without going off-planet.”

“What, so I’m just supposed to live off of candy and soda from now on?”

“Or anything with a high sugar content, really.”

“Ok, so if you don’t eat this stuff,” Dib pointed at his spit-out wad of food, “why is your tray covered in it?”

“I don’t eat it, I send it home with Gir. It’s a horrible source of nutrition, but it’s great for keeping the germs out of the lair.”

“You use the skool lunch meat as a disinfectant?”

“Well, I used to get my supply from McMeatie’s but apparently that was ‘burglary’ and ‘breaking and entering’. Zim despises germs but Zim does not want to go back to the disease-infested Earth jail either.”

“You stole hamburger meat from a fast-food place to use as a disinfectant?”

“Yes.”

Dib decided not to probe further.

“So let me guess, this,” he held up the candy bar, “is somehow part of your grand plan to ‘save my life’ or whatever.”

“I wouldn’t call it that. I’m just holding up my end of our little agreement. Earth is hostile to Irken biology, and I can’t help you if your own planet kills you first.”

“But why are you so intent on ‘helping’ me? If I’m going to get killed by puddles and lunch meat I’d think you more than anyone would benefit from that.”

“Because we had a deal, and I intend to stick to it.”

“You’re being oddly insistent on this deal.”

“Because you promised to leave me alone should our efforts be successful. I think you underestimate how valuable that is to my mission to conquer Earth.”

“Have you at least made progress in figuring out what the fuck is even wrong with me?”

“Yes, actually. Those blood samples you provided me contained some very useful information. Judging by the evidence, it looks to me like someone has tampered with your DNA.”

“What do you mean ‘someone’? You say that like you haven’t spliced my genes with baloney or turned the class pet into a giant monster. I think I know exactly who tampered with my DNA and I’m looking at him right now.”

“You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say that I might be able to reverse it, if you’re willing to cooperate.”

Oh.

“You’re serious? No strings attached?”

“All I ask is for you to let me complete my mission without interference, like we agreed.”

Yeah, that’s still never going to happen.

But Zim didn’t need to know that.

“Alright. I’ll play along,” Dib unwrapped the candy bar and took a bite. “What do you want me to do?”

*rrrring!*

The recess bell rang. It was loud. Louder than it should have been.

“We will continue this outside,” Zim said as he picked up his lunch tray and walked towards an open window. “Go ahead without me. I will meet you on the playground.”

“What are you doing? The door’s this way.”

“Gir’s waiting for me.”

“Oh.”

Dib gathered-up his own food tray and went to throw away his leftovers with the other kids. If they were still trying to avoid him, the space was too crowded for them to do so, since everyone was in a hurry to go outside and take a break from their school-mandated misery.

As he emptied his tray into one of the oversized trash bins, he could hear a high-pitched voice through the indecipherable chatter amongst the crowd. 

“Hey, Zim!”

It was that annoying kid, the one who always seemed to be following Zim around. What was his name again? That didn’t matter. He was Zim’s problem, not Dib’s.

“Hey, Zim, do you wanna hang out during recess?”

He was closer this time. Dib looked around. Zim was leaning out the window on the other side of the room, but his annoying friend was right next to Dib, looking at him with anticipation.

Hold on, is he talking to me? Does he think I’m Zim? Fuck, no! I’m not putting up with this bullshit.

Dib turned around and looked the kid dead-in-the-eyes.

“Sorry, kid-I-don’t-know,” he said as his grip tightened on his lunch tray, “but I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

Dib quickly began forcing his way through the mass of children looking for the nearest bathroom, using the tray like a snowplow to push them out of his way. He managed to break free just in time to reach the bathroom doors. Thankfully, there was no one there.

Dib put the tray on top of the sink and took Zim’s hologram device out of his pocket. 

Time to see if this thing actually works .

He braced himself, closed his eyes, and pressed the button.

He opened them. It worked. 

Looking back through the mirror was normal, human Dib, with his normal, human skin tone and his normal, human face and without those stupid antennae. Even the tear in his jacket looked like it had mended itself.

Incredible. I can’t believe it actually works.

Dib felt around the top of his head until he hit an antenna. The hologram went all static-y and started to flicker in and out of existence until he pulled his hand back.

Fascinating. I guess it’s harder for it to hide things like that.

It was an interesting oddity, but not much more than that. What mattered was that Dib looked normal again, and now he could get back to his day.

The sea of kids trying to get outside had mostly dissipated. The initial rush had ended and Dib was able to get out the door with minimal difficulty. Unlike the sidewalk in front of the building, the playground was still a minefield of giant, mud-filled puddles.

You know what? It’s fine. I’ll be fine. I’m protected now. The puddles can’t hurt me. The puddles can’t hurt me.

Dib took an uneasy step onto the rain-soaked soil. It made an awful squishing sound as his foot sunk into the mud and rainwater began to soak into his shoes. It was cold, it was wet, it felt awful, but it wasn’t burning his skin, and that was the important thing.

 Zim was waiting by the fence. Dib trudged through the marsh that was the unkempt skool grounds to meet him.

“I see you’ve changed your mind about the hologram.”

“Yeah, that annoying friend of yours? He thought I was you when I was throwing away my trash. It made me uncomfortable. I don’t want that to happen again.”

“Oh, that’s just Keef. I wouldn’t worry about him too much. I can get him to leave us alone any time.”

“You’re missing the point, Zim. You don’t want to look like us humans; I don’t want to look like you . You said you have a plan. What do I have to do to become human again?”

Zim smiled. It was a smug smile. What did he want?

“Well, you can start by giving me my glove back. I don’t have another one, and unless you plan on chopping off one of your fingers in the near future I don’t see why you would have any practical use for it.”

“What? No! I won it fair-and-square. I’m keeping it.”

And I need it to prove that you’re actually a threat to the human race.

“Then I’d start stocking up on glue and candy bars if I were you, because I’m not going to do anything else for you until you give it back.”

Goddammit .

“Fine, I’ll give you your stupid glove back. Anything else?”

“We don’t have skool tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, it’s the weekend.”

“Good. Meet me at my house tomorrow morning. I’ll need you to bring my glove, the hologram, and 4 liters of orange soda.”

“What?”

“I’ll explain tomorrow. For now, you can get back to whatever you normally do at this time.”

“Normally, I’d be trying to kill you, but I have a feeling that would violate our ‘agreement’, wouldn’t it?”

“Good to see you’re catching on.”

Dib wanted to smack the smug look off Zim’s face. He felt like he was on a leash, and he hated that he had to rely on his worst enemy just to make it through a skool day. Zim could realistically get him to do almost anything so long as he kept that promise of humanity dangling like a carrot on a stick. Maybe that was his plan: to keep up this perpetual state of dependence indefinitely. If that was the case, it was a stroke of evil genius. It wasn’t like Dib could turn anywhere else. Well, maybe his dad could help, but for all he knew the Professor still thought he was insane and rambing about alien DNA wasn’t going to change his mind. Maybe that was Zim's end goal: total control. Dib wasn't going to let that happen. Eventually there'd be a line he wouldn't cross, but for now Zim was his only chance at getting back to his normal life.

But on the other hand, there was still that panging feeling in the back of his mind that told him Zim was just as confused as he was. Whenever he looked at Zim his antennae seemed to pick up some kind of vibration. Zim’s brainwaves? Some kind of radio signal? He had no idea what it actually was, but it always seemed to be telling him that Zim was telling the truth. It was weird; that’s what it was. Weird and unsetting to think that the Irken genetics could be affecting his brain like that. Almost as weird as suddenly being able to write in an alien language.

Hopefully Dib wouldn’t have to put up with it for much longer though, assuming Zim wasn’t lying about being able to reverse everything. He knew that if.. no, when he became fully human again, Dib was going to send thumb-drives with everything he knew about Zim to everybody in his online circle. The world would finally believe him, Zim would get locked-up somewhere he wouldn’t be Dib’s problem anymore, and human civilization would be saved from certain doom.

“Fine. I’ll bring the glove and I’ll bring the soda. Anything else?”

“Nope. Just your smelly, human presence.”

The bell rang again, indicating it was time to return to the classroom.

“I will see you tomorrow, Dib-stink.”

“You’re not going back inside?”

“I have things to attend to before our next meeting. Enjoy the rest of your skool-day, Dib. I will see you tomorrow.”

And so Zim left to go.. somewhere, and Dib returned to class.

Dib spent the rest of the skool day writing, but this time he wasn’t writing about vampires, or aliens, or even himself. He was trying to write the goddamn alphabet. 

It took him a while, but eventually he figured out that if he focused and wrote slowly, he could still print in English, but the moment he got comfortable and picked-up the pace it would gradually slip back into the alien script. It was tedious. His wrist hurt. He hoped he wouldn’t have to write any essays in the near future.

The bell rang once again. The skool day was over.

Dib went outside to meet with his sister in front of the building.

“You look a lot better.”

“It’s a hologram, apparently. Zim gave it to me. And before you say it, because I know you will: no, it’s not a ‘gift from my boyfriend’ or whatever.”

“Hey, you said it, not me. Any new.. developments, lately?”

“A few things: some kid mistook me for Zim at lunch, apparently I can’t eat food anymore. Oh yeah,” Dib dug back into his pocket and took out his wadded-up test paper and handed it to Gaz, “And this.”

“How did you get a negative grade?”

“Look at the back.”

“What is that?”

“That’s an alien language. I’m writing in a fucking, alien language now and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“Cool, what does it say?”

“‘Zim is an Alien’, just because he’s decided to be nice to me all of a sudden doesn’t mean I’m giving up on my sworn duty as a defender of Earth.”

“Don’t call yourself that, Dib. It sounds stupid.”

“Well, do you have a better idea?”

“Personally, I think ‘big-headded dumbass’ would be a better title.”

“That’s very funny, Gaz, thanks a lot. I’ll see you in a bit, I’m taking a bit of a detour today.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I don’t want to ride in that van again. It’s cramped, noisy, and whatever those machines in the back were doing, these things,” he poked at an antenna and it fizzled in and out of existence, “really didn’t like it.”

“Dad’s not going to be happy.”

“I don’t care what Dad thinks. I’m not getting back in that torture chamber on wheels.”

“Alright. Have fun. Just know you’re probably going to get in trouble when you get home.”

“I’m fine with that,” Dib went back on his way. “I’ll see you at home.”

The sun was out and the sidewalk had dried. It was calm. Dib still wasn’t sure what to think of Zim, or really anything that had happened over the past few days, but for now, things were starting to look up. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.

Chapter Text

Dib stood at Zim’s front door, a heavy bottle of cola in each arm, wondering what the hell he was doing here.

His hands full, he tried to get Zim’s attention in the only way he could, by kicking the door with as much force as he could muster. On the fifth-or-sixth kick, the door opened and he nearly fell at Zim’s feet, dropping both soda bottles as he caught his balance. 

“You know, you don’t have to worry about knocking. I have security cameras. I know when you’re here.”

Shut up, Zim. It’s too early in the morning for this.

Dib kicked one of the soda bottles. It fizzed as it rolled across the floor. He picked up the other one and shoved it into Zim’s arms.

“Here, I brought your stupid soda. We didn’t have Orange in the house, so you’ll have to settle for Diet Cola. What do you need this stuff for anyways? Are you going to inject it into my veins or something?”

“It’s for Gir. He gets particularly annoying on road trips and the fizzing sugar drink seems to calm him down. I think it’s something about the bubbles.”

The rolling bottle hit a wall and exploded on impact, creating a large, sticky puddle on the floor. 

“Road trip?”

“Right, I didn’t tell you. I’m going to space, and I’d like you to come with me.”

“Wait, what?”

A million questions raced through Dib’s head. Why was Zim going into space? What did this have to do with reversing the damage he’d done to Dib’s DNA? And why was he inviting Dib to come along? Was this some kind of trap? 

“I need something from the Empire’s Archives. I can’t access them remotely, so I’m going back to Irk, and you’re coming with me.”

Nope. That’s it. This is where I draw the line. 

Dib had a feeling Zim would ask him to do something crazy, and he was prepared to go along with it, to an extent. But blindly following him off-planet just seemed like a really bad idea.

“Why the hell would I willingly go into outer space with you ?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

There were a few reasons. Primary amongst them being the looming presence of Professor Membrane.

The night prior, Dib had gotten in trouble for trying to walk home by himself. Membrane told him he’d be grounded if he took off like that again. Dib didn’t know what “grounded” meant, but the Professor was being very serious about this parenting stuff, and he didn’t want to find out. 

He’d snuck out that morning. The plan was to come over to Zim’s house, do whatever he had to in order to become normal again, and then get back home before Membrane even woke up. There was no way in hell he’d be able to go to some distant planet and back within a time span that small. The Professor would definitely have questions if his son just vanished off the face of the earth for a prolonged period of time.

And he would also be riding with Zim . Dib didn’t care what those stupid noises told him: Zim was not a trustworthy driver. He was not about to let his worst enemy take him out to the middle of nowhere where he could be left for dead on an abandoned space station, or devoured by an alien monster, or killed by some unspeakable horrors from beyond the stars.

“Because I don’t trust you to not leave me for dead on a hostile planet or eject me into the cold, dark vacuum of space. Can’t you get your archive thing without me?”

“Come on Dib-worm. I thought you’d at least be a little curious to learn about where I came from.”

Zim looked like he was trying to pull-off some kind of ‘puppy dog eyes’ trick. It was a rather pathetic attempt at a manipulation tactic, and as much as Dib hated to admit it, it was working.

The idea that Zim even had a home planet had never really occurred to Dib, but now that he stopped to think about it, yeah, he had to come from somewhere. Somewhere out there was another planet, a whole empire , filled with other Irkens. Were they all like Zim? What did their society look like? What kinds of advanced alien technology did they possess?

He could be the first human to fully document an alien species. He’d be exploring a planet most people didn’t even know existed. This could be his chance to finally prove himself as a serious paranormal investigator. And he could use anything he learned to bring about Zim’s inevitable downfall.

Goddammit Zim. You know me too well.

“I know I’m going to regret this, but fine, I’ll go with you. But I swear, if you try to ditch me on some lifeless planet-”

“Nonsense, Dib-monkey. I would do no such thing. We’ll be there and back in a couple of days.”

“A couple of days ?”

“What, did you think we’d be travelling 2 billion light years in 15 minutes? You’d have to be going some kind of ludicrous speed.  Even the Armada’s most advanced spacecraft can’t go that fast. Space travel is time-consuming stuff.”

Two days. Dib was going to need a monster of an excuse to keep Membrane off his tail. Even if he believed Dib was actually going to space, there was no way in hell he was going to actually give him permission to do it.

Dib’s stomach growled. He hadn’t eaten breakfast before he left the house.

“Any chance you have more of those sugar packet things?”

“Any chance you have my glove?”

Dib begrudgingly took Zim’s glove out of his back pocket and handed it over.

Zim squinted and inspected the glove. 

“There’s a hole in it.”

“Come on, Zim, it’s just a pinhole. It’s barely noticeable.”

“Germs can get in through a pinhole. And so can rain, and acid, and other horrible Earth things. Why is there a hole in Zim’s glove?”

“Fine, I may or may not have mounted it on a corkboard in my room.”

Zim’s expression conveyed a mixture of anger, confusion, and.. betrayal? He seemed hurt by the idea that Dib would even think of doing such a thing. He looked like he was about to say something potentially insulting, but changed his mind at the last moment. Instead, he pointed towards the kitchen.

“There should be more dipping sticks in the fridge. Meet me downstairs when you’re done. We have some preparation to do before we leave.”

He was obviously annoyed about the glove thing, but Dib didn’t understand why. He was still upset about having to give it back and his hunger wasn’t helping the matter.

“Thanks,” Dib replied somewhat passive-aggressively, and he went into the kitchen.

There was an odd noise coming from the fridge.

“Zim, is it supposed to be doing that?”

Zim was already gone.

Dib carefully approached the fridge, grasped the door handle, and opened it, only to be greeted by a familiar face.

“ Hello! ”

“Ah!”

Gir was sitting on the middle shelf of the refrigerator. His mouth was full, there was a piece of bread sticking out of his head, and he was holding a block of cheese.

“Gir, what the fuck are you doing in there?”

“Makin’ a sandwich. Want some cheeeze?”

Dib wasn’t sure if that cheese was safe to eat, but he figured if it was something Zim was already keeping in the house it’d probably be fine. At the very least, it was certainly more appealing than literal sugar.

“Sure, Gir. I’d love some cheese.”

Gir shuffled around and grabbed some bread from the back of the fridge. He pulled a piece of cheese off the block, put it between two slices, and then reached out to hand it to Dib, who anxiously took a bite.

Yep. That was a cheese sandwich alright. Dib wasn’t sure what he was expecting from two pieces of bread and a slice of swiss cheese, but he couldn’t help but be mildly disappointed. Perhaps Gir’s previous cooking endeavor had given him unreasonably high expectations.

Dib decided he should probably grab a pack or two of those dipping sticks, just in case.

“Hey, Gir, can you grab me some of those sugar packets? Uh, right there, under your foot?”

“Yes sir!”

Gir rolled over and tried to grab one, but he tipped over the edge of the shelf, rolling out of the fridge and hitting the floor with a metal clang.

“You know what, I think I’ll just get it myself.”

Dib stepped over Gir, grabbed a few fun dips, and put them in his jacket pocket. 

“What’chya doin’?” Gir popped back upright.

“Oh, I’m going downstairs. Do you want to come with me?”

“Yeah, I wanna say hi to Zim.”

The two of them entered the bathroom and Dib stopped to stare into the toilet-elevator-thing. 

He could have made the entrance look like anything , and he chose a fucking toilet.

Next time, he was going to just crawl through the vents. A more difficult path, but also a more dignified one. He’d take dust bunnies over toilet water any time.

Gir leapt into the bowl, Dib followed suit, and the two descended into Zim’s lair. This time Dib remembered to shield his face from the sanitizing spray. Although, after the conversation he and Zim had the previous day, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was any hamburger meat in that mist.

When they reached the basement, Zim seemed to be packing for the road trip. He was using his robotic limbs to collect objects from across the room and gathering them into a duffel bag. He’d swapped out his dishwashing glove for the one Dib had returned earlier. There was a duct tape patch over the pin hole. He was clearly not taking any chances with those ‘germs’.

“Oh, good. You’re finally here,” his expression soured when he noticed Gir standing by Dib’s feet, “And you brought Gir with you.”

“ Hellooo! ”

Dib shrugged. “He was in the fridge.”

“Of course he was,” Zim muttered to himself. “Do you mind if I borrow your hologram for a moment?”

“ Why ?”

“We are about to travel to the Heart of the Irken Empire. We don’t take kindly to outsiders there. You’ll need to conceal your.. human-ness, if you want to make it out in one piece.” 

“Conceal my human-ness? What, like an alien disguise?”

“Exactly. I highly doubt anyone on Irk has ever seen a human before, and I don’t want to cause a panic. We just need to get in, get some information, and head back. Zim does not want the Dib to draw any unwanted attention.”

“Then why bring me at all?”

“I will explain when we get there.”

Zim plugged-in the projector and pressed his hand on his biometric scanner. The largest monitor sprang to life, and he began typing, seamlessly interfacing with his computer as if it were an extension of himself. He didn’t hesitate, he didn’t backtrack. He had one objective and he knew exactly what he was doing to reach it.

A myriad of symbols scrolled across the screen as Zim furiously typed something and pressed a large button. It was moving too fast for Dib to read, but he was able to make out a few words.

[NEW PROGRAM… PAK… PROTOCOL… VERIFY… UPLOADING… COMPLETE]

It looked like standard programing stuff. Not a lot he could glean from it. 

Zim unplugged the device and handed it back to Dib.

“Go ahead, try it.”

Dib turned the projector on. He didn’t feel any different, and he didn’t notice any changes, until he looked back up. 

He could see his reflection in one of Zim’s monitors. It was distinctly not human. It was that of an Irken, lime green, with bright blue eyes and long antennae, bent at the same angle as his cowlick. His glasses had changed to a thick pair of goggles, there was a metallic dome on his back, and his t-shirt now resembled a blue, striped uniform with a thick collar.

Dib raised an antenna, and his reflection did the same. He waved his hand in the space where his cowlick should have been, and it warped in and out of sight. He took off his glasses, and they returned to their usual state until he put them back on. He still had all ten of his fingers, but his hands were now smooth and claw-like.

There was something.. comforting, about this alien guise, but Dib couldn’t tell of it was an odd relief that he and Zim were still so physiologically different, or if it was his Irken side, more comfortable in this alien body, even if it was just an illusion. 

In that moment, he didn’t know whether to be more impressed or horrified.

“Wow, you look amazing.”

Zim was admiring his handiwork.

“I look like you .”

Zim looked at Dib, then at his own reflection in the monitor, and then back at Dib.

“Hmmm… I don’t see it. You know, I wasn’t sure if it would even work this well, since you humans have so many.. extra parts, especially considering that big spike on your head.”

“You mean my hair?”

“Is that what that is? I always thought it was some kind of horn.”

Dib glared at Zim.

“What? Did I say something?”

“I-, You know what? Nevermind. How do I get the human cloak back? I need to do some stuff at home before we leave.”

Dib repeatedly clicked the button on the projector. The disguise turned off and on and off again, but he couldn’t get it back to whatever setting it was on when he came in.

“Oh, you can’t. I don’t know how to store multiple programs on the projector.”

“I’m sorry, what ?”

“You can always turn it off.”

Dib stopped pressing the switch. The hologram blinked out of existence one last time.

“Zim, I’ve told you how I feel about going outside. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. I’m not going home until you fix this stupid hologram”

“Then I guess you’re coming with me. Gir! Start-up the Voot Runner.”

“Yessir!”

“That should keep him busy while I finish packing. I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“We’re leaving now ?”

“If we want to be back by Monday, yes.”

“Why are you telling me all this now ? If you’d told me we’d be doing this shit yesterday I could have had time to prepare!”

“Because then you would have had time to talk yourself out of it.”

Zim knew very well what he was doing withholding information like that, and Dib didn’t like it. 

“Can we at least stop by my house on the way out? I just need to tell Gaz to cover for me while I’m gone.”

“Fine, but make it quick. Zim also wishes to make this a quick journey.”

Zim zipped-up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“The Voot Runner is in the attic. We’ll take the elevator up.”

“The what?”

“My ship.”

The two entered the elevator and ascended past the first floor and into Zim’s attic. As they stepped out, the ceiling opened up and the slightest gleam of the rising sun shone off the reflective surface of a giant glass dome: the windshield of Zim’s ship. 

Zim pulled out a remote, pointed it at the ship, and the front opened to reveal the cockpit. Gir was sitting in the pilot’s seat with the remaining soda bottle and a bag of potato chips. The bottle was already half empty. He’d been drinking it while Zim and Dib were bickering.

“Goddammit, Gir! What did I tell you about leaving food in here? We’re going to get ants!” 

“Sorry Master.”

There was not much inside of Zim’s ship. Just a control panel and a single, giant captain’s chair. All that advanced alien technology and the Irkens didn’t think to put a passenger seat in their vehicles.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Dib asked. He wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of sharing a seat with Zim for the next several hours.

“The floor. I don’t want your human stench all over my seat.”

Compared to the sterility of everything else Zim owned, the floor of his spaceship was a goddamn mess. Crumbs, stains, and candy wrappers littered the ground. As much as Zim tended to overreact about Earth hazards, Dib couldn’t help but agree that his fear of an ant infestation was justified.

“Is that gum wrapper moving on its own?”

Zim panicked as he extended a pack-arm and sprayed the offending piece of trash, soaking it and the floor in a disinfectant spray.

“Not anymore.”

“Gee, thanks .”

Zim climbed into the cockpit and shoved Gir out of his seat. He pressed a few buttons on the control panel and the ship’s exhaust ports began to glow with alien energy. It was stunning, both visually and from a technological perspective..

“Get in Dib-shit, we’re going space travelling.”

Gaz was having the most wonderful dream. In the dream, she had trapped her rival, Iggins, in a video game world and was forcing him to die and respawn ad infinitum. That would teach him to steal her Game Slave again. He was about to be picked-apart by zombies when she was rudely shaken awake by Dib.

“Gaz. Gaz!”

He told me he wasn’t going to bother me this early in the morning anymore.

She could barely lift her eyelids enough to make out his blurred silhouette in her dark bedroom. Were his eyes glowing? She was too tired to tell.

“Dib. I’m going to give you 30 seconds to leave my room before I destroy you.”

“So you know how I was talking about going over to Zim’s house? Well, I went over there and…”

Gaz squinted at her alarm clock. 6:13.

He tells me he isn’t going to bother me anymore, and then he wakes me up at 6am on a Saturday.

“Fifteen seconds.”

Dib seemed to panic as he blurted out something about soda bottles and spaceships before running outside and slamming the door. 

Gaz didn’t understand anything he’d said, nor did she care. She just wanted to go back to sleep. So she did. She would deal with her brother in the morning. 

This time Dib was the one being eaten by zombies. Served him right for waking her up at the crack of dawn.

Meanwhile, Dib was looking down from Zim’s window, face pressed against the glass, watching as his house got smaller and smaller until it became nothing more than a dust speck on the great sphere that was the Earth’s surface.

As they breached the upper atmosphere, Gir climbed up on Dib’s shoulders to get a better look at the view. 

“ Oooh , pretty!”

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

The view from the planet’s orbit was mesmerizing. The dazzling blue of the oceans, the way the mountains, plains, and deserts blended together, the city lights from the dark side of the planet. That was Earth, that was his home. It was beautiful, and he was about to leave it alone, without its sole protector.

Gir’s tiny, metal feet were beginning to dig into Dib’s back. It was incredibly uncomfortable.

“Gir, can you please get off of me? I don’t want your stupid robot legs digging into my spine.”

“ Awww , but I wanna see.” Gir was trying to get over Dib’s head and began clinging to his hair for support.

“Ow! Zim, can you get your robot off me?”

“No, I’m driving. Do you want us to crash into the Moon?”

Gir grabbed one of Dib’s antennae.

“Fucking hell. Okay! That’s enough of that!” 

Dib pried Gir’s claws from his head and the tiny robot fell into his master’s lap. Dib could feel his antenna throbbing where Gir had been pinching it.

“You said he wasn’t going to act like this.”

“I said the soda calmed him down. Compared to how he usually is, this is a marked improvement. Just be glad he hasn’t started singing yet.”

“Singing?”

“Shh! Don’t give him any ideas.”

As Dib looked back out at the ever-shrinking Earth, he began to have second thoughts, but as the ship sped faster and faster into the unknown void and the planet got smaller and smaller, the gravity of his situation began to set in as he realized it was too late. He was zooming through the cold vacuum of space with Zim as his pilot and Gir as a fellow passenger, off to a distant planet he knew nothing about, on a trip he might not survive. 

And there was no turning back.

Chapter Text

Dib didn’t expect soaring through space at beyond-lightspeed to be so boring.

It was cool at first, watching the seemingly infinite planets, galaxies, and nebulae go by. Those were all entire worlds most humans didn’t even know existed, and they were flying by in the blink of an eye. But after five hours, they all started to blend together. Sure, that black hole over there looked cool, but he’d already seen a hundred of them by that point. The cramped seating didn’t make things any better, or the sound of Gir endlessly tapping on the window, or the crumbs that were sticking to his clothes, or the fact that he’d gotten up really early that morning and was tired, or the fact that he was stuck on a tiny spaceship with Zim.

“Zim, how much longer until we get there? I’m bored, and there’s nothing to do.”

“Fifteen more hours, assuming we don’t have to detour around any space battles along the way.”

“Fifteen hours ?”

“I told you it was going to take a while. Maybe your miniscule, human attention span can’t handle the awesome size of the Irken Empire.”

Maybe talking to Zim could help pass the time.

“So, uuh, what are they like, the other aliens? Are they all as.. condescending, as you?”

“Zim does not condescend! But yeah, the other Irkens are pretty cool. I think you’d like them, if you stopped being so anti-alien all the time.”

“I’m ‘anti-alien’ because you guys are trying to destroy my home planet.”

“We’re not trying to destroy it per-se. We just want to strip it of its resources and enslave humanity.”

“Oh yeah, because that’s so much better.”

“Try not to call anyone an ‘alien’ while we’re there, by the way. We’re Irkens. That’d be like if you called your fellow humans ‘space-beasts’ or something. Don’t do that. It’s weird.”

“You’re just going to gloss-over the whole ‘enslaving humanity’ thing?”

“You always get so hung-up on that.”

“Well I don’t want to be enslaved by an alien empire. Can you really blame me?”

“You just don’t appreciate the efficiency of Irken Imperialism. You’ll thank me when I become the supreme ruler of Earth one day.”

“You’re so sure of that. Seriously, even if I hold up my end of our deal, what makes you so sure that you can conquer the world when you can’t even take over an elementary skool.”

“I’m biding my time. With every mistake I make, every interrupted plan, every failed scheme, I learn a little more about your planet and its weaknesses, and the extent of human gullibility. It’s just a matter of time before that pathetic skool has to bow before Zim! First the skool, then the world!”

“ Horraay! ”

“Silence, Gir! I can’t tell the Dib about my plans with you screaming like that.”

If there really was a method to Zim’s madness, and he was truly learning from his mistakes, that meant he was potentially more dangerous than Dib initially thought. All the more reason to stop him once and for all. After they finished dealing with the whole alien thing, at least.

Another few hours passed in awkward silence. Dib tore open one of the candy packets he’d grabbed from Zim’s fridge. It still had that mesmerizing, calming effect that helped ease the tension and discomfort that came from sitting on the floor of a cramped spaceship. Maybe a bit too much. Staring back out into the endless blackness made him drowsy, his sleep deprivation finally catching up with him as he somehow managed to fall asleep, face squished against the window. He had a dream where he was stuck in a test tube and his dad was observing him in some kind of experiment. It wasn’t the first time he’d had that dream and it probably wouldn’t be the last. This time he was wearing Zim’s clothes, though. Weird.

He was woken up by a sudden jostling of the spacecraft. It felt like Zim had just raced over a speed bump at mach speed. 

“Zim? What’s going on? Why does it feel like we’re going through a rock tumbler? We’re not going to crash, are we? Please don’t tell me we’re going to crash.”

“We’re not going to crash, Dib-worm, we’re just in an asteroid field,” Zim was clutching the steering and flinging the ship in all sorts of directions, frantically avoiding the cluster of giant rocks floating outside. “This should be the last one before we reach Irk. Hold on tight. It’s going to take some tricky maneuvering to get out of here.”

The ship jolted left and right, up and down, as Zim steered around the asteroids, Dib and Gir, not having seatbelts, were practically thrown against the windshield with each jerky movement. Dib felt like he was going to throw up. As much as he wanted to yell at Zim to please slow the fuck down, he couldn’t. Doing so would be a sure way for his stomach fluids to get all over the window.

When they cleared the asteroids, the ship came to a screeching halt, and the inertia sent Dib’s head hurdling into the control panels. 

“Ow, fuck! Zim, how much of that was actually necessary?”

“Hey, you try flying through a cloud of giant space-boulders. It’s not as easy as it sounds.”

Dib’s forehead pulsed at the site of impact and his antennae were buzzing from the pain. 

“I think I might have a concussion.”

“You’ll be fine. Zim has taken a lot worse and Zim’s head works just fine.”

You constantly referring to yourself in the third-person tells me otherwise.

“That was fun! I wanna do it again!” Gir piped up.

“No, Gir, I really don’t want to do that again. Zim, is there any chance we can avoid the asteroids on the way back home?”

“We can, but it’ll take an extra three hours.”

“I’m fine with that. I think I’m gonna hurl if I have to go through that again.”

“If you’re going to vomit, do it on Gir. Try to hang on for just a little longer. We’ll be there in around thirty minutes.”

“Fucking, finally! I’m ready to not be stuck in this stupid, tiny spaceship anymore.”

“When we get there, I want you to stay close to me until I say otherwise. Irkens are very defensive of our home planet and I don’t want you to get caught doing something stupid.”

“Why? What’ll happen if I get caught?”

“Bad things, that’s what.”

“ Very specific.”

“If you value your life, you will listen to what I say. There have been a lot of uprisings lately, and everyone will likely be on the lookout for spies. You don’t want any of them to mistake you for one.”

“Maybe there wouldn’t be so many uprisings if you just left other planets alone.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Nothing. I was just talking to myself.”

After a few more minutes of seemingly aimless flying, Zim started to home-in on a planet; slightly smaller than Earth, its surface varying shades of purple and grey with a cloudless atmosphere. Several satellites and spacecraft of varying sizes hovered just outside of orbit.

“Here we are. Irk. Capital of the Irken Empire and my home planet. You may now begin gazing in awe.”

As they got closer, the planet’s surface revealed itself to be one massive, bustling, futuristic city, with tall buildings sprawled as far as the eye could see, save for a large crater filled with scaffolding and some kind of construction equipment in the distance. Colorful screens and blinking lights covered every wall. Numerous spaceships and hovercraft soared above and through the streets below, and every sidewalk was covered in green spots, revealing themselves to be Irkens as Zim and Dib continued their descent. It was strange and alien, yet somehow familiar. Dib had never been there, but it felt like he was returning home for the first time in a thousand years.

So this is the Irken homeworld .

“Pretty cool, right?”

“It’s incredible. This is where you came from?”

“Mmm-hmmm. There’s more underground too. I’d be happy to show you around if we had more time.”

Zim directed the spacecraft around some buildings and landed in a relatively secluded space between a few buildings. Not quite an alleyway; but more of an empty space left over after whoever built the city had completely run out of room for buildings and didn’t bother to use what little was left over. There were a few food wrappers on the ground, but not much else of note.

“We’ll make this our home base,” Zim announced, “Keeping it low-profile. Any questions before we head out?”

“Yes, actually: Do I need a helmet or something? How do I know if I can breathe your planet’s atmosphere?”

“I can breathe just fine on Earth, so I see no reason why you shouldn’t be able to do so here. And you seem to be part-Irken anyway, so I’m sure your body can handle it.”

“Like how I can supposedly handle my head smashing into a window?”

“Yes, actually. Irken bodies are very resilient.”

“Yet you can’t handle a little water balloon?”

“I said resilient, not invincible. Do you remember everything I told you before we landed?”

“Yeah, stay close and don’t do anything stupid, I know. Let’s go. I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to.”

“Dib, aren’t you forgetting something?”

“*sigh* Don’t call anyone an alien?”

“It’s good to know you were paying attention, but no, I was talking about your disguise.”

Right. The stupid hologram.

That projector was turning out to be more trouble than it was worth. Too many ‘terms and conditions’ that Dib was getting sick of.

“How badly do I really need it?”

“How badly do you want to be imprisoned for trespassing on Irken Territory?”

“Am I really going to stick out that much? I’m green, I have antennae, that should be enough, right?”

“Irkens don’t have hair, Dib. We don’t wear corrective lenses either. And we never dress like that .”

“What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

Zim glanced at Dib’s jeans. 

“We don’t have denim on Irk. What are you so afraid of anyway? It’s just an illusion.”

“I know, but.. what if I turn it off and it’s not an illusion anymore?”

“Dib,” Zim pulled the projector out of Dib’s pocket, “it’s a hologram. It’s not going to hurt you.” He turned it on and handed it back to Dib, his Irken disguise flickering to life. “Your fucked-up face is not going to get any worse from leaving this on for a few minutes.”

“That’s all it’ll take? A few minutes?”

“Yep. We’ll be in and out in no time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And you’ll be back to your smelly, human self before you know it.”

“You said that like, two days ago, yet here we are.”

“For Irk’s sake, stop complaining, Dib-worm. You’re on an alien planet! You’re probably the first outsider to touch its surface in decades. Take it all in while you can! It’s not like you’re going to be back anytime soon.”

Right, that was the whole reason he’d agreed to come in the first place. Well, that and the mild blackmail, but he couldn’t deny the strategic advantage to be gained from observing Zim’s species in their natural habitat.

Zim opened up the ship and the two quickly climbed out, Gir following close behind. Dib took in a deep breath or Irken air. It was cool and dry.

From the ground, it was a lot like an Earth city, no different than walking around downtown, except for the hundreds of Zims potentially watching his every move. Dib couldn’t help but feel like he was being silently judged by every Irken he passed. It was a feeling he’d grown accustomed to back on Earth, but here, it was different. Back home, the worst he’d get would be some weird looks or a few snide comments, maybe a trip to the school counselor if he was particularly unlucky. But here, as far as he knew, one wrong move could mean certain doom. He shuffled closer to Zim as they traversed through the sea of Irkens.

Nothing to see here. Just a perfectly normal Irken bug-thingy going about his perfectly normal, Irken business. 

The closer he looked, the more Dib was surprised by the diversity in the Irken population. Sure, they all looked like Zim, in the sense that they were green, had antennae, and were smaller than the average human adult, but they weren’t all identical either. There was so much variation in their shapes, sizes, and colorations. They all dressed slightly differently, and had their own distinct facial features. Even their antennae bent and twisted in a seemingly infinite number of imperfections. They all had a few things in common though. They were all taller than Zim, and by extension, taller than Dib. Easy to not make eye contact; hard to not notice. They also all had similar, metal domes on their backs, exactly like Zim’s backpack.

“Zim, what’s with all the backpacks? I always assumed that was something you’d built. Why does everybody else have one?”

“They’re PAKs. All Irkens have them. It’s like a computer thingy that holds all our memories, personalities, and the collective knowledge of the Empire, all linked through one massive network of information and data streams.”

“What, so those things are like your brains?”

“No, I still have a brain. I’d say it’s more like your human concept of a soul. Everything that makes Zim, Zim is in this PAK.”

This was genuinely fascinating information to Dib. A whole new aspect of Zim and his species he had no idea existed. This was the kind of information he’d been hoping to learn when he agreed to come here. He was starting to regret that decision a little less now.

“What happens if you take it off?”

“I’d stop breathing and I’d be dead within ten minutes.”

Interesting .

That information might be useful in the future.

Dib glanced back at his own PAK, the false PAK, its ports glowing with an almost radioactive, blue glow. It was fascinating; incredible, really, that the Irkens had figured out how to condense an entire being’s existence and identity into such a device. When they got back to Earth and he finally betrayed Zim, he’d need to isolate his PAK for study. That kind of technology could hold the key to a greater cosmic knowledge, the secret to immortality, or just really cool alien tech. 

Then he was hit with a realization.

Wait a minute. If Irkens die without their PAKs, and I’m part-Irken, what does that mean for me?

“Zim?”

“What?”

“Am I going to die without a PAK?”

Zim paused to think for a moment.

The frequencies in Dib’s antennae were changing slightly. He had a feeling Zim was hiding something. He seemed a bit eager to explain the PAK thing. Maybe Zim enjoyed the thought of watching him die a slow, painful death. The regret came flooding back. He shouldn’t have come on this stupid road trip. Space trip?

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?! Zim, why didn’t you tell me that before we left the planet?”

“Shhh! I tried to tell you but you closed a window on my fingers. And also I have no way of knowing for sure if that’s going to happen. If I find what I’m looking for here, you should be back to normal before you even have to worry about it.”

“But what are you looking for here? Hell, why am I here? Stop being so secretive, Zim. I want answers!”

Now a few other Irkens were actually staring. Dib could feel every one of those giant, colorful eyes gazing down upon him like a series of laser pointers.

“Not now, Dib,” Zim nervously glanced over his shoulder, “Not here. I will explain everything when we get back to the Voot Cruiser. Do you understand?”

There was a sense of uneasiness in his voice that Dib rarely heard from Zim. He was genuinely scared of something.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Good. I’m risking a lot bringing you here. I could get in huge trouble for bringing an outsider into the Empire’s Capital like this.”

“What kind of trouble?”

“Both of our lives could be at stake. Trust me, it’s in both of our best interests to lay low. I wasn’t kidding about the ‘imprisonment’ thing.”

Zim was dead serious, but why did he care so much about Dib’s safety? Was it just out of self preservation, or did he have some kind of ulterior motives? It sure seemed that way to Dib. After all, if Zim’s life was on the line, why would he even risk it all to bring him here in the first place? 

“Can you at least tell me why you were so insistent that I follow you here?”

Zim sighed, checked to make sure no one was listening and quietly answered: “Because I wanted to continue monitoring you for PAK sickness.”

“I thought I didn’t have to worry about that!”

“I don’t know how many more times I have to tell you Dib-stink: I don’t know what’s happening to you and I can’t tell for certain if it’s going to get worse or not. That is why we’re here . Now, if you don’t want my help, I can always drop you in the middle of space to fend for yourself, but I have a feeling that’s not the outcome you were hoping for when you broke down my door in desperation, is it?”

“I-. You’re bluffing. You wouldn’t actually abandon me in the vacuum of space.”

“Do you really want to find out?”

Dib was cornered. Physically and metaphorically. 

“No, I guess I don’t. Which way are we going?”

“Just a little further this way.”

They turned a corner and stopped in front of an inconspicuous set of sliding doors at the base of a nondescript, grey tower.

“Is this it?”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, I guess I thought your big important record-keeping building would look a bit more.. important.”

“What? Do you expect us to have a big sign advertising where our important documents  are? We’d be practically inviting someone to come in and steal them.”

“Like we’re about to do?”

“I’m not stealing . My status as an Invader gives me unlimited access to all the records in this building. I’ll just grab the one we need and then we’ll be back on Earth before skool starts on Monday. I just need you to stay right here with Gir until I get back.”

“Why can’t I go in with you? I didn’t spend twenty hours in a cramped spaceship just to stand in front of a building with your idiot machine. No offense, Gir. You said to ‘take it all in’, well what if I want to ‘take-in’ the cool alien library.”

“They scan PAKs for entry. You’re not going to be allowed in. I want you to stay here and watch Gir. He’s too much of a liability for me to bring inside.”

“You dragged me out to the edge of the known universe to babysit ?”

“Yes. Gir, stay with the Dib-Irken while I go inside.”

The Dib- what ?!

“Fine, Zim, I’ll watch your stupid robot, but I’m begging you. Please, don’t call me an Irken, ever again. You can insult me all you want. You can call me literally anything else. Just, please, don’t call me that .”

Zim tilted his head to the side and raised an antenna.

“But you are one? As far as anyone here is concerned, anyway.”

“I don’t care. I don’t like what you’re implying. Can’t you just call me a worm or a ‘dirt-monkey’ like you usually do?”

“I guess it slipped my mind. Now isn’t the time to argue about semantics, though. Just stay here with Gir. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“You’re just going to leave me alone, out in the open, with him ? Whatever happened to ‘Stay close to me so you don’t get killed?’”

“Well, what do you think is going to happen when they try to read your PAK and the scanner phases right through it?”

“I don’t know, but I don’t want you to just leave me out here either. Aren’t you worried I’m gonna keel over and die from your backpack sickness or something?”

“ PAK sickness. And I should be out in less than ten minutes.”

“You know what, I don’t care, just make it quick! The longer we’re here, the more uncomfortable I feel, and you constantly telling me I might die isn’t helping.”

“Have fun Earth-boy.” Zim smirked as he disappeared into the building.

Dib wished he’d brought his notebook. He could have been taking notes about everything he’d seen so far, or familiarizing himself with the Irken language, or practicing the stupid English alphabet so he wouldn’t fail another test. But he couldn’t do any of that right now. He hadn’t had the foresight to bring anything to write with after they’d stopped at his house.

“Well, Gir, I guess it’s just you and me for- oh, goddammit.”

He’d looked away for one second and Gir had already taken-off running into the street.

“Gir! What the fuck are you doing? Get back here!”

“I smell tacos!”

Shit. What the hell am I supposed to do now?

For a moment, Dib just stood there, paralyzed with fear. There was no winning in this situation. Zim would surely kill him if he lost Gir, but chasing after him would inevitably draw unwanted attention, which could also get him killed. He decided he’d rather take his chances with the Irken cops, or whatever their equivalent was.

He darted after Gir, rushing and shoving his way through crowds and dodging traffic. And hastily apologizing to every Irken he bumped into.

“Excuse me! - Pardon me! - Haha, runaway robot, sorry!”

He would have cornered Gir; he could have pounced and pinned him against a steel wall; he could have caught him and taken him back to Zim without any more drama. But he didn’t, because he tripped on a curb and fell, face-first, into the middle of a sidewalk. He could only watch as Gir scurried away, chasing after his oh-so-precious Mexican food. Did they even have tacos here, or was Gir just delusional?

Dib’s nose was stinging. It wasn’t broken, but it had gotten scratched-up from his collision with the pavement, and was slowly seeping dark green blood. His disguise briefly glitched, the tunic turning bright magenta for a fraction of a millisecond, before changing back into a t-shirt and then returning to its default shade of blue.

“Woah, what’s going on over here? Are you okay?”

Dib looked up. Standing over him, was an Irken: olive green with amber eyes and a blue uniform. He was probably four or five inches taller than Dib, and his antennae were crooked and uneven. One might have been longer than the other, but it was hard to tell.

Dib gulped. Had he been found-out? Were his human features showing?

“Uh, nothing! I-I-I was- I was just trying to get my robot back,” He awkwardly held his hand up to his face, trying to hide his injury, just in case something was trying to phase through the hologram, “Did I do something wrong?”

“ What ? Why would you think a thing like that?”

“Well, uh, I.. uh, don’t get out much.”

“Oh, social anxiety. Yeah, I get that. Wow, you are tiny .”

“You think I don’t already know that? You don’t have to rub it in.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Dib saw a familiar teal antenna sticking out of a nearby trash pile.

“Ugh, there he is.”

“There who is?”

“The reason I fell on my face.”

Dib got up, walked over, and pulled Gir out of the rubble. Gir was holding a half-eaten taco. Dib didn’t know which was more impressive, the fact that Gir had somehow smelled that thing from multiple city-blocks away, or that the Irkens even had tacos to begin with.

“ Yaaay ! You found me!”

“Gir, I don’t have time for this right now.” Dib addressed Gir in a harsh whisper, “Zim told us to stay put and I do not want to get killed because of your bullshi-”

“Is that a SIR Unit? You don’t see those too often around here.”

“Uuh, yeah, I guess. This is Gir.”

“Gir? What does the ‘G’ stand for?”

Dib looked at Gir, hoping for an answer. Gir just shrugged.

“I don’t know, he’s not actually mine. I’m just watching him.”

“I’m a liability!” Gir chimed in.

“Yes, Gir. You really are. Is it that hard for you to stay still and shut-up for five minutes?”

“yes.”

The Irken picked up Gir and began to inspect him, turning him upside down and looking inside his head cavity.

“Bit of an outdated model, isn’t it?”

“Like I said, he’s not mine. He belongs to a, uuh, ‘friend’.”

“ Wheeeee! ” Gir was squealing with excitement. He seemed ticklish.

“Talkative too,” the Irken put Gir down. Gir began aimlessly running in circles. “I think your friend’s robot might be defective or something, they might want to get that checked-out. I’m Diz, by the way,” he reached out his hand, offering to shake Dib’s, “What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

Dib began to panic. For as much as he hated being kept under Zim’s thumb, he was his lifeline for navigating this alien society he knew next to nothing about.

He reached out and cautiously shook Diz’s hand. 

“Dib. It’s, uh, interesting.. to meet you.”

Now please don’t kill me.

“Nice to meet you too, Dib,” Diz looked down at the handshake. “Do you have an extra finger or something?”

Shit. Irkens only have four, don’t they.

“Uuuh, yeah, I guess. It’s an, um.. genetic mutation?”

“That’s pretty cool. I wish I had a mutation like that.”

“Haha, no you don’t. I feel like a freak of nature sometimes.”

What are you doing, Dib? Stop talking to the random alien you just met and focus on getting back to Zim… Wait. How do I get back to the Archives? Shit.

“You wouldn’t happen to know how to get to the Archival Building, would you? I was heading over there to meet someone, but I kind of got lost chasing this guy.”

“Sure, no problem! I was going that direction anyways. It's this way just follow me."

Dib had gone from relying on Zim to this complete stranger. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

Gaz didn’t wake up again until noon. 

There was a sticky note on her door. It was in Dib’s handwriting, but she couldn’t read it. It was in that weird, alien language.

She crumpled it up and tossed it in the wastebasket.

The rest of her day went about as normal. Too normal. She made herself a sandwich for lunch (Dib had taken the last of the soda) and then spent a couple of hours in VR. The house was peaceful. Too peaceful. Normally, she would have enjoyed the lack of interruption, but her brother’s absence permeated every room in a way that was impossible to ignore. Somehow, he was even more annoying when he wasn’t there.

She decided to see if Dib was hiding in his room. Maybe he was being overdramatic and had locked-himself-in or something. The door wasn’t locked, and she was able to enter without resistance. Dib’s room was empty, and mostly unchanged since the last time she’d seen it, save for a few new papers on his conspiracy board and a set of pajamas lying in a pile on the floor. 

“Dib! Are you in here?”

No response.

Gaz looked in the closet: nothing. Under the bed: nothing. She opened up his backpack: nothing. Something was very wrong. It wasn’t like Dib to disappear like that, not without loudly announcing where he was going and rambling about how he was saving the world or something.

What was he trying to tell me this morning?

“Son? Is that you?” Professor Membrane entered the room, “Oh, hello, Gaz. Have you seen your brother? I’ve been looking for him all day and I’m starting to get worried.”

Gaz shook her head.

“I hope he’s alright. Do you think I was too harsh on him last night?”

“No, Dad. You were fine.”

“I hope he hasn’t run away from home, or gotten himself kidnapped, or worse.”

“Relax, Dad. No one in their right mind would ever kidnap Dib. He’s probably just at Zim’s house or something.”

Wait a second… Zim.

Of course. It had to be. What else could make Dib drop everything and run away.

“His weird green friend?”

“Yes. I think they’ve been planning a sleepover or something.”

“And he didn’t tell me? Gaz, do you know Zim’s phone number? I just want to call his parents and make sure everything is alright.”

“They don’t have a phone.”

“Do you know his address?”

“No.”

The Professor facepalmed.

“Why can’t your brother have any normal friends?”

“Because everyone hates him.”

Membrane sighed and looked at Dib’s corkboard for a moment. He unpinned an index card, inspected it, and showed it to Gaz. It was more alien writing.

“Do you know anything about this?”

“Dib says it’s an alien language.”

“Of course he does.”

The Professor went back to looking at the board.

“He’s awfully convinced of this alien thing, isn’t he?”

Gaz nodded. “I’m half-convinced he thinks he’s an alien himself.” 

“I just wish he’d stop wasting his time on this sci-fi nonsense and give the natural sciences a chance. I’ve told him before: there’s plenty of interesting things in space that aren’t extraterrestrial beings; like comets, and nebulae, and gas giants.”

“I don’t know. He seems to have an awful lot of evidence there.”

“A few doodles and a made-up language? Gaz, don’t tell me you actually believe his delusions.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe if you listened to him every once in a while he wouldn’t have run away like that.”

“I thought you said he was at his friend’s house.”

“I said I think he’s at Zim’s house. He never told me where he was going either.”

At least not that I can remember . Maybe I should have listened to him earlier.

“Look, Dad, whatever Dib’s up to, I’m sure he’s fine. You should totally ground him when he gets back, though.”

“Gaz?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“What does grounding mean?”

“It means he’s not allowed to leave the house for a week.”

“That’s it? Huh. That’s a shame. I was hoping I’d finally found a use for those gravity boots.”

Chapter Text

“You dare deny the Great and Mighty Zim entrance to these archives?!”

Zim was standing at the Archives’ security checkpoint, his PAK was plugged into the computer system via a thick cord that extended from the ceiling. There was one worker there, a Security Drone. She had been adamantly refusing to let him into the main library. Obviously she didn’t realize she was in the presence of one of the Irken Military’s greatest and most respected soldiers.

“Sorry, pipsqueak, Service Drones don’t have access to the main Library. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

“ Service Drone ?! Zim is a high-ranking Invader! This has to be some mistake!”

“I don’t know man, your PAK says you’re in Food Service. You can take a look if you want.”

“Lies!” Zim unplugged his PAK, waited a few seconds, and then jacked himself back into the system. “Try again, I’m sure it’s corrected now.”

The guard looked at her tablet, and then back at Zim.

“Yeah, sorry, nothing’s changed. Look, it says it right here. Name: Zim. Class: Food Service. Warning: Extremely Dangerous, Suspected Defective, Neutralize on sight- Oooh.”

The desk-Irken panicked and slammed her fist into a button on the wall, and an inordinate number of laser guns emerged from the walls, all pointing directly at Zim.

“What do you mean defective ? Zim is not defective! Recall your wall-cannons at once or I’ll report you to the Tallests!”

The guard pressed the button again and the cannons began to charge, bright spheres of purple energy spinning and growing at the openings of each barrel. Zim’s tiny heart began to race as he stood paralyzed with fear, confusion, and rage. 

This has to be some error. The Tallests would never let anything like this happen to ZiM.

He released an energy shield from his PAK just as the cannons fired and a flurry of energy beams were flung in his direction, bouncing off the barrier and back at the blasters from whence they came.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to do that!” the guard shouted as Zim pried the doors open just enough to squeeze through.

He could hear more yelling from the outside, accompanied by the sounds of something repeatedly banging against the doors, and an alarm loudly blaring overhead, with flashing lights reflecting off the shelves of valuable data he’d come to steal. There were a few other Irkens in the library; some were record-keepers, some were security, and some were just browsing the Archives. Many of them fled, as they should, but a few stubborn guards pulled out weapons and charged towards Zim.

Zim extended four PAK legs and scurried up one of the seemingly endless bookshelves. He quickly scanned the Library. He knew where he was going, he just needed to survive long enough to get there.

Where are you, research papers?

He scurried up and down the walls, through the maps, battle plans, census records, and scouting reports until he found the Research wall.

He quickly located what he was looking for: a redacted study on PAKs and their compatibility with non-Irken bodies. Restricted access: impossible to access through the PAK network. 

Perfect.

He grabbed the data pod and turned to leave, but he was immediately confronted by a floating orb. A security unit.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!

It fired a warning shot, barely missing Zim’s head. In the two seconds it took to recharge, Zim leapt on top of it and tried steering it towards an exit. Hoping and praying that whatever Dib was doing, he was safe and out of trouble. This mission was going to take longer than he thought.

Dib and Gir were following Diz through the Irken city. 

“Tell me a little about yourself, Dib.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You know, what’s your job, where are you stationed, what are you looking for in the Archives? Forgive me for being curious, it’s just that I’ve never seen you around here.”

Being around Diz was weird. He seemed nice enough, but Dib couldn’t ‘read’ him the same way he could Zim. He thought back to what Zim had said about spies, and it made him question exactly what Diz’s intentions were. His little inquiry felt less like a casual conversion and more like an interrogation.

“I’m a researcher. I’ve been working off-planet for most of my life.”

“What kind of stuff do you research?”

“Secret stuff. I’m not allowed to tell you.”

“Well, can you tell me about the planet you’re stationed on? I like learning about other planets. What’s the dominant species like?”

“Oh, it’s horrible . Half the food is poisonous, acid falls from the sky, and humans are so self-centered they refuse to believe they’re not the only intelligent life in the universe. They wouldn’t know they’re being conquered if you shoved an entire spaceship in their faces.”

Mission Accomplished: make Earth as unappealing for invasion as possible.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Wouldn’t that make them easier to enslave if they don’t even notice?”

“Not for my field of study. It’s infuriating.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. I work in the archives. A lot of the documents there only have one copy but for some reason that’s a difficult concept for some people to wrap their heads around. I feel like lost cause when the Almighty Tallests themselves don’t seem to understand that you need to respect the sensitive information and that data orbs are not toys for them to throw at each other! Sorry about that. Things have been rough since Tallest Spork died. He understood that the Empire’s secrets aren’t playthings.”

They stopped in front of the unassuming building that supposedly contained all the Empire’s secrets. Zim was nowhere to be seen.

“Where the hell is Zim? He said he’d be done by now.”

Diz’s left antenna twitched.

“I’m sorry, I must be hearing things. Did you say Zim ?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you know Zim?”

“He’s my ride home? Gir’s master? Do you know him?”

“Why would you bring that traitor back here?”

“Traitor? What the hell did he do?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me! The Horrible Overload Days? Operation Impending Doom 1? He murdered two Tallests!”

“He did what ?” 

Dib knew Zim was dangerous, but a wanted murderer ?

“Look, Diz, I’m on your side! I hate Zim more than you do, I’m just using him to-”

“So you brought him back here?”

“No! He dragged me here. I was perfectly fine back on Earth until he came there with his stupid alien shit and his god-awful disguise and his- shit, I’ve said too much.”

Diz squinted at Dib, “What do you mean, ‘alien’?”

“I- uuh…”

Suddenly, the wall of the Archives burst open in a fiery explosion as Zim leapt out, pursued by two Irken soldiers and some laser-firing-robot things. Dib had no idea what was going on, but he knew it wasn’t good.

“Zim! What the fuck did you do?”

“It turns out my presence isn’t exactly wanted at the moment. We need to get back to the Voot Runner as soon as possible.”

Zim ran into the street, carrying a large, metal sphere and a small, glowing orb. The guards fired at him with some kind of laser beam and he used the larger sphere to deflect the blasts.

Diz was still, frozen in terror at the scene that unfolded in front of him.

“I’m sorry Diz, but I have to get home.”

Dib took-off after Zim as fast as his legs could carry him. Fortunately, Zim’s pursuers were relatively slow, and it wasn’t hard to catch up to him.

“Zim! Why didn’t you tell me you were a wanted criminal!?”

“I didn’t know! I only found out a few minutes ago!”

“It never occurred to you that you might be wanted for regicide ?”

“What? Who told you about Miyuki and Spork? Those were accidents! I was pardoned!”

“Well you must have done something horrible because apparently I’m suspicious just for associating with you.”

“Dib-Irken, can we maybe discuss this when we aren’t running for our lives?”

“I told you to *cough* stop *cough-cough* calling me that!” 

Dib was starting to wheeze. The dust and ash from Zim’s grand escape, paired with the strain of trying to outrun the hostile Irkens, was taking a toll on his lungs, and it got worse the longer he ran. He couldn’t keep going anymore, he had to stop and breathe.

Zim immediately took notice. He quickly turned around, and using one of his robotic legs, he grabbed Dib by the collar of his jacket and carried him through the chaotic streets, using the other three to propel himself forward.

“Hang in there, Dib-stink! We’re almost there. Gir, smokescreen, now!”

Gir opened his head and the air became filled with a thick, white smoke. Dib kept coughing as Zim turned a corner and hid behind something that resembled a dumpster, dropping Dib and Gir next to him. 

“Zim *cough* I can’t breathe in this shit.”

Zim wasn’t listening. He was peeking over the edge of the dumpster, making sure they weren’t still being followed.

“I think we’re in the clear. The Voot Runner’s just down this alley. Do you think you can walk back on your own?

Dib took a few deep breaths, nodded, and gave Zim a thumbs-up. They climbed back in Zim’s ship and began the long, stressful journey home.

Zim and Dib didn’t speak to each other for the entire ride home. Neither of them were particularly in the mood. The tension was palpable, like a great pressure building within the cockpit. The motion-sickness wasn’t helping. They had been followed out of the Irken atmosphere, and Zim had taken the shortcut through the asteroid belt to shake them off his tail. Dib tried to sleep-off the journey again, but he was too angry to fall asleep. There was a lot going through his mind. Zim was apparently a murderer, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing when the opposition was a giant, evil empire.

As they landed back at Zim’s house, Dib realized he couldn’t keep those thoughts bottled-up. He needed answers, now.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Zim. Why the hell are we being chased by alien cops?”

“Ugh, there’s an error in the Irken data stream. It says I’m defective , can you believe that?”

“I have no idea. I don’t know what that means. But if I’m a fucking outlaw in another galaxy I want to at least know why! ”

“Don’t worry about it,” Zim got into the elevator to the basement, “What matters is that there’s just a glitch in the system. It was only a mistake, and this will all be smoothed-over as soon as the Tallests realize their best Invader has accidentally been put on the Empire’s most wanted list.”

“‘Most Wanted’ List ?!” Dib followed suit, “Goddammit, I knew this was a bad idea. I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to come with you on this stupid road trip but here we are! I’m a fucking, intergalactic fugitive now and I don’t even know why! Did you at least get your stupid, archive thing?”

Zim took out a glowing, blue sphere.

“I was kicked-out before I could read it, but yes, I got the information I needed. We can look at it together when we get back to the computer.”

“What’s in it?”

“Redacted research papers from a study of Irken Biology. There’s stuff about the Irken genome that will be useful to us.”

The elevator door opened and the two entered Zim’s underground lair.

“Why was it redacted?”

“That’s none of your business. What matters is that I can use it to fix you so you can stop whining and leave me alone. Do you remember the time I spliced your genes with earth-meat?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I still get attacked by stray dogs by the way, maybe you can fix that too while you’re at it.”

“I can’t make any promises about that, but if I can get an untainted sample of your DNA, I can use that same technology to clear out any trace of Irken genetics from your body. I can’t guarantee it’ll reverse your antenna growth, those might have to be surgically removed, but it’s a start.”

“I’m not letting you perform surgery on me. I’d sooner cut them off myself than let you anywhere near me with a scalpel.”

“Alright then, suit yourself, but don’t come crying to Zim if you get a deadly infection.”

“Can we get started already? I’d like to be somewhat normal again before we get back to school.”

Dib leaned against the console and his hand slid over Zim’s handprint scanner. The panel glowed and a table emerged from the floor. On this table, was a PAK, with no Irken body to be seen. There was a series of wires, tubes, and various pointy bits coming out the flat side, and there were small, dry, dark green splatters around the rim. It seemed weirdly sterile. Of course, everything in Zim’s lair was disinfected to hell and back, but the PAK, the tools, the table; that whole setup was oddly medical. 

“Zim, what’s this?”

“It’s a PAK.”

“I can see that, Zim. Why do you have a PAK in your basement?”

“I’ve been working on it. For you. How did you do that? You shouldn’t be able to use that panel.”

“What do you mean ‘for me’?”

“For the PAK sickness. To keep you alive.”

“To keep me alive? Zim, did you think I was just going to let you stick your weird alien computer to my body?”

“Dib, you don’t understand. If I don’t attach this device to your spine in the next day or two, there is a very real chance that you could die from PAK sickness. Most Irkens can’t survive ten minutes without a PAK and you’ve been symptomatic for the past week .”

“Do you think I can’t see the fucking blood stains on that thing? What if someone else’s brain is still in there? How do I know you’re not trying to mind control me, or screw with my memories, or if you’re even telling the truth about this “pack sickness”. How do I know you’re not just trying to kill me faster? You said you were going to help me return to normal, Zim, and last I checked, normal humans don’t walk around with giant chunks of metal sticking out their backs!”

“Normal Irkens do,” Zim said quietly.

“I don’t care what’s normal for your species, Zim!” He reached into his pocket and turned off his disguise. “Sorry to remind you, but I’m not an Irken, and no amount of genetic mutilation is going to change that.”

“But you could be. You could join me by my side as we rule over this wretched excuse of a planet and exact revenge on the puny humans who doubted us. You could prove them all wrong, I could prove myself as an Invader. We can-”

“Is that what this has all been about? Is that why you’ve been so nice to me lately? Because you want me to just hand over my home planet to you of all people?”

“Well, after everything we’ve been through, I was hoping you’d be a bit more receptive to the idea, but yes.”

“Everything we’ve been through? You mean how you took my blood without consent, dunked me in a vat of glue, and then dragged me out into space, only for us to find out we’re wanted criminals? Zim, you’ve done nothing but make my life miserable, why would I throw everything away to join forces with you ?... You aren’t even trying to help me, are you? This was all part of your plan, wasn’t it ?”

Dib coughed as he took out the hologram device and slid it across the counter.

“I don’t know why I even trusted you. Take your stupid hologram thingy. I can fix myself without your help. My dad’s an idiot but I know he’s been experimenting with genetics. I can probably get him to do, I don’t know, something .”

Zim laughed.

“What’s so funny ?”

“Good luck with that! The Membrane-human thinks you’re delusional just like the rest of them. Unless you want to go running to your Earthen government for help, oh wait, they probably want to dissect you like you’ve been threatening to do to me. Face it Dib-beast, you have nowhere to run to. You just have to trust me on this.”

“Stop saying shit like that. You keep saying you have no idea what’s happening to me, and you know what? I actually believed you at first. But the more time we spend together the more it feels like you’re trying to manipulate me and I’m getting sick of it. And don’t say it’s out of your control either. This shit has ‘Zim scheme’ written all over it and I can’t believe I went along with it for this long. The deal’s off, Zim. I’m going home, and the first thing I’m going to do when I get back is upload everything to the internet.”

With every word, Dib’s chest felt tighter and tighter.

It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m probably just re-adjusting to the atmosphere or something.

Zim was silent. He looked more hurt than anything.

“Don’t you want your hologram back?”

“Keep it, Zim,” Dib wheezed, “You’ve done enough already.”

“Dib, I think you’re really going to want it, just give me a minute to switch the program back.”

Dib angrily hissed at Zim, and immediately covered his mouth with his hands.

“What have you done to me?” he muttered to himself, horrified, before turning away and  running for the exit.

Zim did not try to follow him. He didn’t say anything else, he just watched as Dib left.

As soon as he got back to the surface, Dib ran home as fast as he could, starting off at a steady pace, but slowing down as his condition steadily worsened. With every step his breathing became more strained and his heart raced faster and faster until it felt like his chest was about to burst open. His limbs turned stiff and sore until it was painful to move, but he kept going. He had to get home. He had to get help. He had to get away from Zim.

He staggered up the driveway and heaved one final breath before collapsing on his doorstep. As he faded in and out of consciousness, Gaz opened the door and took a few steps back.

“Dib? Is that you? What the hell happened? Where have you been?”

“Yeah *cough* get.. Dad.. I think *cough*cough*, I think I’m dying.”

“Daad! I found Dib! He says he’s dying!”

“Come on Gaz, I’m sure he’s exaggerati- Son! What in the name of the Molecules happened to you?”

Dib wanted to say something, anything, but before a single word could pass his lips, his vision quickly faded and his head became filled with a high-pitched ringing as everything faded to white, and he passed out in his father’s firm, cold arms.

Chapter Text

Zim was pacing back and forth in his lab, stressed, confused, and scared. He simply couldn’t fathom why Dib would reject his offer of friendship so aggressively. After everything Zim had done for him, he thought he’d at least be a little more grateful. But no, he had to remind himself that even if Dib looked Irken on the surface, he was still a stubborn, human meat-wad through and through. 

He was conflicted about what he should do next. Dib was clearly displaying symptoms of PAK sickness, and Zim didn’t know how much longer he was going to last. The question became whether to try to get him the PAK, or let him die from the inevitable organ failure. On the one hand, he had made a promise to Dib, and he intended to keep it. The strategic advantage of having him as an ally was too great to risk. But on the other, Dib had broken their truce and would surely retaliate if he tried to intervene, and if he was dead that would leave Zim with one less obstacle to world domination. But maybe being rescued from the brink of death would finally get him to acknowledge Zim’s greatness and admit how futile defending this wretched planet was.

Zim went upstairs to ponder for a moment. He needed to go somewhere quiet to think; the humming of the computers in the lair was too distracting.

Suddenly, he was startled by a loud noise. Someone furiously pounding on the front door.

Zim got his hopes up for a second. Maybe, just maybe, Dib had realized his mistake and come back to apologize.

“Zim! If you don’t come out here right now I will tear down this door and feed it to you while your stupid robot dog watches!”

That was most certainly not Dib. That was his scary little sister. Maybe she was there to negotiate? Probably not.

Zim wanted to keep all his limbs, so he pressed a button to send the robo-parents to open the door, to create some kind of barrier between him and Gaz. Two sets of legs rolled into the living room. 

Shit. I was repairing those, wasn’t I.

The knocking got louder, and louder. Zim had no choice, he had to face Gaz directly. He stood up straighter to make himself more intimidating, and carefully, opened the door.

“Zim, what the fuck did you do to my brother?”

“I’m sorry, Dib-sister,” Zim replied nervously, “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about. Whatever is happening to Dib, he brought it on himself. If he has a problem he should have come here to talk to me in-person.”

Gaz tackled Zim and pinned him to the ground. He swept her leg and the two rolled around on the floor, trying desperately to overpower one another. They were fairly evenly matched, but somewhere in the struggle Gaz was able to find an opening and bite Zim on the arm. Zim screamed as he immediately released her and began to inspect his injury. Seizing this moment of weakness, Gaz got up, knocked him onto the floor, and stood over him, one foot placed firmly on his chest. Zim could feel his heart pounding as he gazed up at his victorious opponent.

“You know what you did. He disappeared for two days, passed-out on our doorstep, and now he’s on life support because his heart stopped beating. He was perfectly fine before he ran-off with you to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what with the last of my soda stash. I know you did something, whether you admit it or not, and I need you to get your slimy ass over to the hospital and fix Dib or so-help-me-god, I will end your pathetic little life right here, right now.”

Dib was on life support? His sickness was progressing faster than Zim had expected. He’d thought Dib’s human-ness would have bought him a bit more time. How much had The Infection spread throughout his body?

Gaz pressed down, applying pressure to Zim’s ribcage. 

“ Please don’t kill Zim! ”

“Then talk , you sorry excuse for an intelligent life form.”

Zim’s mind flashed back to a few days ago, when Dib had nearly choked him to death in this exact spot. That was terrifying, and that was Dib . Gaz was much more menacing, and she was fully capable of ending his existence then and there if she wanted to.

“I didn’t do anything to the Dib! We’ve just been off-planet for the weekend! I had a feeling something like this was going to happen but I didn’t think the PAK sickness would set in so soon. I have something that should keep him alive, just let me get it from the basement.”

Gaz lifted her foot off his chest.

“Go. And make it quick.”

He scrambled to his feet, took the nearest trash can down to the lair, grabbed the PAK, grabbed his human disguise, and rushed back upstairs as quickly as his stupid elevator would let him. He didn’t need to make up his mind anymore, Gaz had done it for him. They were going to rescue Dib.

“What is that?”

“I’ll explain on the way over. There’s no time to waste. We can ride Gir to this ‘hospital’ if you don’t mind holding on. It’ll be faster than walking and we won't have to put up with the filthy Earth traffic.”

“I don’t care how we get there as long as it’s quick. My brother is dying and I need you to work your stupid alien magic before it’s too late.”

There was anger in Gaz’s voice, but also desperation. She needed Zim’s help, and so did Dib.

“It is decided then. Gir!” Zim shouted, and Gir popped out of the vents.

“Yes, sir!”

“Gaz, grab onto Gir and don’t let go. Gir, engage rocket mode. We’ve got a Dib-shit to save!”

Chapter Text

|
||
encoding sequence initiating…
Name: [Dib Membrane]
Class: [Human]

memory upload…
complete

downloading Empire database…
complete

connecting to PAK NETWORK…
complete

encoding sequence complete

[Human] [Dib Membrane],
Welcome to the Irken Empire

initializing system restart in
3…
2..
1.
||
|

Chapter Text

Dib woke up in an unfamiliar bed, shirtless, surrounded by medical equipment, with an IV up his arm, an oxygen mask strapped to his face, and a bunch of wires and electrodes stuck to his body. The air was cold, and the machines were all emitting an awful buzzing noise that resonated in his antennae. It was like his worst fears had been realized. 

He sat up, removed the mask, and looked around the room, trying desperately to figure out where-the-hell he was. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the bright, fluorescent lights overhead. He was surrounded by curtains, and other than the humming of the machines, the air was filled with an eerie silence. Something wasn’t right.

“Oh my god, I’m in Area 51, aren’t I?”

He heard snickering behind him. A laughter he’d, unfortunately, grown all too familiar with over the past week.

He turned around and was greeted by Zim, dressed in scrubs and a doctor’s headlamp, watching him from the bedside.

How long has he been there?

“Good to see you’re finally awake, Dib-stink.”

“Zim, what the fuck are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave me alone! Where the hell are we? I need to get out of here before someone tries to dissect me and-”

“ Relax , Dib. No one’s going to dissect you,” Gaz revealed herself to be hiding amongst the EKGs and oxygen pumps. “You’re in the ER. You passed-out in front of the house and Dad didn’t know what to do so he brought you here.”

“Emergency room? Hold on, where is Dad? And more importantly, what the hell is he doing here?”

“I just saved your life, that’s what.”

What?

Chills. Radiating up Dib’s spine and throughout his whole body. Like being plunged into a bathtub of ice water.

He did not ! Did he?

Dib’s hands trembled as felt along his back. There was something there. It was cold, metallic, and firmly attached to his spinal column. He looked over his shoulder and saw a familiar, silver dome, with glowing, pink ports.

Nonononononono

“Zim, what did you do?”

“I told you, I saved your life.”

“Is that a PAK?”

“The same one from the lair.”

“No. No, no, no-no. Zim, I told you I didn’t want my mind uploaded to some weird alien computer network. I want you to get this thing off my back right now!”

“Don’t worry. I took extra care to erase all the data of the previous owner.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better! I don’t want to be part of your weird hive-mind, Zim!”

“You literally died without it.”

“Well maybe I’d rather be dead than a half-alien abomination, did you ever think of that? You said you were going to return me to normal, Zim, and as far as I’m concerned you’ve done the exact opposite!”

“Well, your sister brought me here. I was going to leave you to die a slow and painful death, but she broke down my door and threatened to kill me if I didn’t do something about it.”

“Gaz! You let him do this to me?”

“Sorry for not wanting to lose my only brother to the weird alien disease.”

“Sorry? Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You just gave Zim and his evil empire full access to my memories! My soul is bonded to this thing now! You’ve completely ruined any chance I had of returning to normal ever again!”

“Dib, I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.”

“Maybe I don’t want your help,” Dib turned back to Zim, “And I don’t want your help either. Take it off, now.”

“You know I can’t do that, Dib.”

“Why, the fuck not?”

“Because it would kill you? I’m not sure if you’re fully grasping that concept.”

“I understand it perfectly fine, and I don’t care. I want you to get this thing off my back before I rip off these stupid wires and pry that stupid backpack from your broken, battered corpse!”

Two mechanical spider-legs sprung out of Dib’s back and hovered ominously over Zim. 

What the fuck?

“It’s good to see the PAK legs are working.”

“I don’t want your stupid PAK legs! I don’t want your PAK, I don’t want your antennae, or your glue baths or your fucking sugar packets. I don't want to be a goddamn Irken, Zim! I want to go back to being a normal, human person who doesn’t rely on the likes of you to keep my heart beating.”

“Since when have you ever been normal?”

“Shut-up Gaz! You know what I mean.”

Dib growled as the PAK legs retracted into his back.

“Zim, I want you to get out. If you’re not going to take back your fucking PAK, then leave. Your face is the last thing I want to see right now.”

“Don’t you want to thank me first?”

“ Thank you? For what, destroying my body? For making me an accomplice to your crimes? I don’t want to thank you, Zim, I want you to rot in Hell.”

Zim slunk back towards the front of the bed, unfazed, like he still knew something Dib didn’t.

“I’m disappointed in you, Dib. I thought we were becoming friends.”

He stopped to pick up a clipboard and scribble something on it, “My offer still stands. It’s not too late to change your mind,” and he disappeared behind the curtains.

Dib was fuming. Against his will, Zim had permanently altered his body and created a direct link between his soul and the alien empire that was trying to conquer Earth, and he wasn’t the slightest bit remorseful. If anything, he seemed proud of what he’d done, and he had the nerve to consider them friends . If Zim’s idea of ‘friendship’ was installing alien technology on people without their consent, he was scared for that Keef kid.

“What does he mean by ‘offer’?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, I just- I need time to process everything. The last thing I remember was walking home from Zim’s. I don’t know how long I was out or how I got here or even- Zim said I died . Is that true?”

“Yeah, your heart stopped a couple of times.”

“A couple of times?!”

“You would have been gone for good if Zim hadn’t shown-up. Dad was freaking out, I think I heard him yelling at the doctors a few times.”

“Of course he was. He doesn’t want one of his ‘prized experiments’ getting destroyed now, does he.”

“I don’t know, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that stressed before.”

“What does he know?”

“About what?”

“About the PAK. About Zim. What did you tell him?”

“Zim said he was a doctor. No one seemed to question him.”

“And that worked ? No one else tried to stop him?”

“Gir’s been distracting the hospital staff.”

Of course he has. That’s the only thing that pile-of-bolts is good for.

“Dib, Zim might have bought you some time, but you’re going to have to come clean to Dad eventually.”

“You think ? I should’ve come clean to him when he noticed I was turning green, but that would have ruined our little family breakfast, wouldn’t it?”

Dib looked down at his hands. His skin was smooth, like an amphibian’s, and his fingers were warping into a reptilian, claw-like form.It felt less like his own flesh and more like a pair of gloves he couldn’t take off.

“Gaz, be honest with me. How bad do I look right now?”

“Your face is a bit messed-up, but otherwise you’re fine.”

“What do you mean, ‘my face is messed-up’?”

“You scratched your nose pretty bad. And your eyes are really red. Like, solid red, I genuinely can't tell if you’re even looking at me right now. Also your mouth is kind of a mess.”

Dib ran his tongue along his teeth. They were jagged and uneven, and he didn’t need a mirror to tell that his tongue had morphed into a narrow, worm-like shape.

He pressed a hand against the side of his head and let out a sigh of relief. His ears were still there, and so was his hair, even if there were still a few chunks of paste stuck in it. He picked out one of the glue bits, and several strands of hair effortlessly came out alongside it.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“No duh. I’m pretty sure you still had pupils the last time I saw you. The claws are kind of neat though. When did you get those?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I want to know.”

There has to be a way to reverse this, there just has to.

“You know what? I’m going to tell Dad everything. Right here, right now. He has to believe me, right? He’d have to be stupid not to.”

“Do you want me to tell him you’re awake?”

“Yeah, do that. I’m going to tell him the truth, and I’m going to ask him to take me to work with him so I can use his science stuff to undo everything Zim’s done to me. Zim won’t know what hit him.”

“It’s always about Zim, isn’t it?”

Dib gestured at his PAK.

“Okay, I get it. Yeah, I’ll get Dad.”

So Gaz left, and Dib began to mentally prepare himself.

This was it. This was his one chance to fix everything.

A minute passed, and the Professor came rushing in. 

“Son, you’re alive! You have no idea how worried I’ve been. I thought I’d never see you again.”

He hesitated before placing his hands on Dib’s shoulders and looked him directly in the eyes. Through the goggles Dib could see his brown eyes behind a pair of round glasses. They were the eyes of a scared man.

“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to answer with the truth and nothing but the truth. What on Earth were you doing to put yourself in such a state? Your sister and I have been worried sick!”

Here we go.

“You want the truth, Dad? The whole truth? Fine. I’ll tell you the truth. Even though you’re just going to call me crazy like you always do. Zim is an alien, an extraterrestrial, a little bug-eyed freak from beyond the stars who seemingly only exists to make my life a living hell! And through some kind of alien-tech- fuckery on his end-”

“Watch your mouth, son.”

“Fine. Through some kind of alien-tech- screwiness on his end, I think I’m turning into an alien too. We’ve been on another planet trying to find a way to make me normal again, but then it turned-out he was just trying to use me so he can take over the world.”

“Son, don’t be ridiculous, you’re not an alien. I’ve known you since you were a zygote.You’re no more an alien than me or Gaz.”

“Then explain this , dad. Cast aside your stupid ego for one second and just look at me!”

“I am looking at you, and I’m telling you, Biology doesn’t work that way. You’re not an alien, son. You’re probably just having an allergic reaction to that green microscope dye.”

“That wasn’t dye, Dad. That was my blood,” Dib shoved away his father’s arms and yanked an IV out of his arm. A small amount of green liquid seeped through the puncture wound. “I was lying because I had a feeling you’d say something like that if I told the truth. It’s disappointing to know I was right.”

“Son, I need you to understand, what you’re talking about isn’t scientifically possible.”

“Not scientifically possible? Not scientifically possible ! Dad, in my world, nothing’s scientifically possible! I’ve watched all my equipment get destroyed by ghosts and vampires; I once saw a sasquatch breaking into our garage; I’ve studied magic, real magic , and just hours ago, I was flying through space in a UFO. I bet science can’t explain any of that either, but I’ve lived it nearly every day of my life. Allergies don’t turn your skin green, Dad, or make you sprout antennae, or give you weird lizard-hands. And what about this thing? Do you have a ‘scientific explanation’ for the horrible, alien device stuck to my back?”

“That’s not an alien device. It’s a piece of medical equipment designed by a human doctor. Not everything you don’t understand is from outer space.”

“Let me guess, that doctor’s name was Zim ?”

“Yes, actually. How did you know that?”

“Because he’s the alien I’ve been trying to tell you about! You actually believed his bullcrap? Don’t you think it’s odd that the only person who could keep my heart beating also happened to have green skin and a weird computer on his back? I am sitting here, as living proof that aliens exist and you have the gall to try and convince me I just have allergies? How can you blatantly ignore what’s right in front of you?”

“Because you sound insane. Nothing you’re saying makes any sense!”

Dib took a moment to gather his thoughts. Whatever he said next, he had to choose his words very carefully.

“I used to look up to you, you know. I used to think nobody was cooler than my awesome scientist dad with his awesome inventions and his world-changing discoveries, but that feels like ancient history now. You’re never home, and when you are, you make me wish you were anywhere else. Sometimes it feels like you’re avoiding me at best and ashamed I exist at worst, and you’d rather keep telling me there’s something wrong with me than admit that your precious science can’t explain everything!”

Dib could feel the PAK humming from the raw emotion. It was getting warm, like a tiny laptop being pushed to its absolute limit that could burst into flames at any minute.

“All I ever wanted was to be respected: by you, by the Eyeballs, by my classmates. I was willing to risk my life and go to the edge of the universe just for one, tiny ounce of acknowledgement. And how does that universe reward me? By turning me into an alien freak and sticking me with an idiot father who’s too blind to see it.”

Dib’s eyes watered and tears began to trickle down his cheeks. It stung, not as much as the rain, but enough to make him clench his teeth from the pain. 

The Professor was taken aback, like this news was shocking to him. It shouldn’t have been. What did he expect to happen when he decided Science was more important than his own kids?

“Son.. Dib, if you’ve been feeling that way, why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Because I’m scared,” Dib was starting to cry. “You never listen to me and when you do, you keep telling me I’m delusional. You’ve given me no reason to believe you won’t send me to the closest insane asylum or discard me like your stupid, burnt toast. You know, most parents would try comforting their kids at a time like this, or at least pretend to believe their stories, but you keep brushing me off and insulting me to my face and I don’t know how much more of it I can take.”

“Dib, I- ”

Membrane stepped away as he began awkwardly avoiding eye contact. He didn’t know what to say, and he appeared to be growing more and more uncomfortable being around Dib by the second. He seemed just as scared to properly face his son as Dib was to finally admit the truth, but at least Dib was able to finally lift that weight off his chest. His father was unable to do the same.

“I’m sorry, son. We’ll discuss this later, when you’re a bit more level-headed.”

And with that, like Zim before him, Membrane once again disappeared to the outside world.

“What, no! Dad. Dad ! ”

Dib was sobbing, his hands and face burning as he wiped away his own tears. That was it. That was his last shot-in-the-dark. Membrane was supposed to finally listen to him and apologize for neglecting him for so long, not dismiss him like always and just go back to ignoring him.

Dib wanted to just lie down, go to sleep, and pretend none of this had ever happened, but the PAK made it impossible for him to lie flat on his back, so he rolled over and buried his face in the pillows instead. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he was hoping and praying that this was all just a bad dream, that any moment, he would wake up, in his own bed, as his regular, 100% human self, with his human face, and his human skin, and without that goddamn PAK. 

All of this would surely go away. He just had to wake up.

Chapter Text

Dib did not like the hospital. Even after Zim had left and it became evident that the doctors had no interest in experimenting on him, his time in the ER was a stressful and uncomfortable experience. He was still sandwiched between a bunch of irritating machines, he was constantly surrounded by hospital staff, and he felt like a goddamn pincushion after having to sit through yet another blood draw.

A technician had removed his IV and was trying, and failing, to perform the blood draw, piercing his skin over and over again with a hollow needle.

“Do you have to poke so much?”

“Sorry, kid, your veins are just really hard to find. Look, I know it hurts, but I just need a few vials so we can run some tests.You want to know what’s wrong with you, right?”

“I already know what’s wrong with me. An alien screwed-up my DNA and now I’m mutating into a different species.”

The technician paused to think for a moment.

“You also think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“I will admit, that’s a new one. Usually when we get UFO-types through here they’re ranting about being probed in odd places,” he finally located the blood vessel in Dib’s arm and plunged the needle deeper into his skin. The small vial began to fill with a translucent, pink liquid.

Is that my blood? Wasn’t it green like, an hour ago? 

Dib suspected the PAK might have had something to do with it.

“It’s unusual, isn’t it?” he mused, “Not like any human blood you’ve ever seen?”

“Not really, but there’s a first time for everything, I guess. I don’t know, maybe you just have a low red cell count,” he quickly swapped-out the vial for an empty one, “Are you feeling okay? You seem weirdly okay for someone who flatlined a few hours ago.”

“Other than having a bunch of holes in my arm, a hideous deformity, and an alien life support device on my back? Sure, I’m perfectly fine!”

“But you’re not lightheaded or anything, right? No breathing difficulties? No weird pains?” the technician swapped-in one last vial.

“No, I’m fine. Do you have to drain me like a goddamn vampire? I’ve lost a lot of blood in the past week already.”

“What happened?”

“Lots of broken glass. Are you almost done?”

“This is the last one, I promise.” After the last test tube was filled, the technician removed the needle from Dib’s arm, patched him up with a bandage, and removed an elastic band from his forearm. Dib noticed one of the vials starting to change colors. Its contents were darkening, and shifting to a muddy hue. “See? All done. I’ll have your test results ready in an hour-or-so.”

“And then, can I go home?”

“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”

The technician passed behind the curtain, never to be seen again. While Dib appreciated the privacy, he also felt like he was being cut off from the outside world, like everyone who passed through that barrier was keeping secrets from him. For all he knew, his dad and the doctors were talking about him behind his back and laughing at him. Anyone who stopped by to stick him with another needle or check his heart rate always seemed to leave as soon as they could, handing-him-off to be someone else’s problem. He hadn’t seen his dad in a while either, so when the Professor returned to his bedside, alongside a doctor, he began to fear the worst.

Membrane was holding a bundle of Dib’s clothes, specifically the shirt, jacket, and shoes he’d come in wearing, and was anxiously fidgeting with the shoelaces.

The doctor flicked through her clipboard before addressing the father-son duo.

“Alright, now that I’ve got both of you, I’ve got good news and bad news regarding Dib’s condition. Dib, your test results came back. The good news is that you aren’t dead.”

Obviously

“The bad news is that you were almost done-in by toxic shock, and you’ve still got a bad case of conjunctivitis.”

“What?”

“You had a pretty nasty bacterial infection. When left untreated for too long, those microbes can get into your bloodstream and start tearing you apart from the inside. You’re lucky Dr Zim came by with that blood-filtering device, otherwise you could have lost a limb, or worse.”

“Blood-filtering machine? Is that what he told you?”

“Mmm-hm. He said it should be clearing-out all those horrible bacteria and repairing the damaged cells. It’s a real miracle of modern medicine, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s obvious evidence of alien tampering. It’s not ‘repairing my damaged cells’, it’s probably replacing them with more of his .”

“Son,” The Professor chuckled nervously, “Do you think you can tone down the insanity just a little bit? It’s just some toxic shock, there’s nothing paranormal about it. These people have spent years studying real science. I’m sure they know what they’re talking about.

“I’m not talking to you,” Dib said bluntly. Dib considered his father lucky that he was still willing to look at him. 

“Sorry about him. You know how children can be sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it. I have a teenager at home. I’d get used to the cold shoulder if I were you, you’re going to get it a lot over the next few years.”

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind. So, uh, what’s the prognosis, doc?”

“Well, impressively, he seems to have made a full recovery. Aside from the pinkeye, he seems perfectly healthy.”

“Sure, ‘pinkeye’,” Dib rolled his eyes, “Because pinkeye totally makes you look like a mutant space-bug.”

“Dib, listen to the nice doctor lady. She knows what she’s talking about.”

“Oh, Professor,” the doctor blushed, “you don’t have to do that.”

“Your colleague saved my son’s life. It’s the least I can do.”

The doctor wrote something on her clipboard, and handed Membrane a slip of paper.

“I’m going to send you out with a prescription for eyedrops and some antibiotics to help with the pinkeye. If he gets worse, come back immediately. You’re free to go whenever you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Dr Golgi. Dib, do you think you can walk?”

“Are you kidding? Totally. Watch me.” Dib crawled out of the hospital bed, ecstatic to finally be able to stretch his legs. His knees wobbled a bit at first, but he had no trouble walking. 

“Careful, son,” Membrane cautioned.

“I’m fine, Dad. Can I have my shirt? I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible.”

The Professor got down on his knees to hand Dib his clothes.

“Look, son, I know you’ve been through a traumatic experience, and you’re probably confused, but you can’t keep ranting to strangers about aliens. People are going to think you’re crazy.”

“Then let them. Maybe I’d rather be laughed at than wrong.”

Dib snatched his clothes out of his father’s hand and tried putting his shirt on. It was an uncomfortably tight fit over the PAK.

Thanks a lot, Zim. Now my clothes don’t fit because of your stupid “blood filtering machine”.

Suddenly, the PAK dislodged and fell to the floor, allowing the shirt to fit properly. Dib involuntarily gasped for air as it reattached itself through the back of his shirt.

Wait, can I just take it off?

Dib reached back, gripped the rim of the PAK, and tried to push it off, but his effort was in vain. It refused to budge, and he could feel the tension in exact points where it was fused to his spine. Membrane didn’t say anything. Did he not notice? There was no way he hadn’t; it was right in front of him!

“You’re not going to comment on that ?”

“Comment on what?”

“The PAK?”

“The what?”

“Nevermind. Can we go now? I need to get back so I can update the Eyeballs on my status.”

Maybe they’ll actually believe me.

“Yes, son,” Membrane sighed, “we can go home now.”

Dib felt himself getting dizzy as Membrane rose off the ground.

He opted not to put his jacket back on. It had taken quite the beating – covered in scuff-marks with the collar nearly torn off – and the last thing he wanted was to bore holes in it. He had backups at home. He’d just have to sacrifice one of them instead. 

He reluctantly followed his father out to the car, head down, avoiding eye contact the whole way, lest that Irken instinct take over and turn his mind to mush from Membrane’s tall-ness. He threw his jacket over his head as they left the hospital. Even if the staff didn’t care about his alien-ness, he still didn’t want to be seen in public like that. Membrane plucked it off of him once they got to the car.

“Come on, son, isn’t this a bit overkill? You look ridiculous.”

“Well, I look even more ridiculous without it. Can I have my jacket back?”

“Sure,” Membrane sighed, “Just hold still for a second, you’ve got a stray hair.”

He reached down and pinched one of Dib’s antennae. Dib immediately swatted away his father’s hand.

“That’s not a stray hair, that’s my antenna. Don’t touch them. They’re sensitive.”

Membrane Groaned as he opened the car doors.

He still doesn’t believe me, does he?

Dib was surprised by the interior of the van. Membrane had clearly been making an effort to deal with some of the clutter, with a good portion of the boxes and papers cleared out. Most of the electronics were still piled in the back, still making that irritating noise, but it was less intense than the last time he’d been in the back.

“You said you didn’t like the backseat because it was too cramped, so I thought I’d try to make it more comfortable. You can, uh, ride in the front seat, if you want to.”

“I’d rather stay in the back with the torture machines. Where’s Gaz?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Where’s Gaz? She was in the hospital with us, wasn’t she?”

“She’s at skool. We’re going to pick her up right now.”

Gaz is getting out of skool? How long was I in there?

“Dad, what day is it?”

“Monday. You were gone for two days.”

Right, space travel and all that.

“I, uh, set aside some time to show you around the lab on Thursday, if you’re still interested in doing that. I can show you some real DNA science if you want.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“How about this: You let me take you to work, and I’ll, umm, let you explain your conspiracy board to me. Show me what it is about this paranormal stuff that makes you believe in it so much.”

“I said I’ll think about it. You’re not exactly making me want to spend more time with you right now.”

They pulled-up in front of the skool and waited for Gaz. Dib sunk deep into his seat in an effort to avoid the gaze of his classmates.

“Son, what are you doing?”

“I’m hiding from them . They all think I have the plague or something. Oh, yeah, and the other day, some kid mistook me for Zim. I’m not taking any chances.”

“You do know you’re going to have to go to skool tomorrow , right? What are you going to do then? You can’t hide under a jacket forever.”

“I don’t know, I’ll think of something.”

I should have kept that stupid hologram thing.

Gaz was approaching the car. She was talking to someone, a tall, pale girl with short, blue hair. Dib didn’t recognize her, but he didn’t really know any of the kids in Gaz’s class, so he didn’t think anything of it.

“How was school today?” Membrane asked as Gaz climbed into the van.

“It was okay, I guess.”

“Was Zim there?” Dib interrupted, “Did you two talk about how much you enjoy watching me suffer?”

“Yes, actually, he asked me how you were doing. I told him you were still being whiny and overdramatic. Oh, and he told me to give you this.”

Gaz handed Dib a wadded-up scrap of paper. Inside was a note, in Irken, from Zim:

{I built the hologram projector into your PAK. You’re welcome.

-ZiM

P.S.

You smell like human}

That smug piece of shit…

Dib waved the paper at Membrane, “See this, Dad? This is alien writing. An alien language. What do you think of that?”

“Dib, I’m done talking about aliens today. Can we please move on to something else?”

“What does it say?” asked Gaz.

“He told me I ‘smell like human’, whatever that means.”

“It probably means you need to take a bath or something,” she pinched her nose in an exaggerated manner, “When was the last time you showered anyway?”

“Let’s see.. you sprayed me with air freshener, I was gone with Zim for a while.. uh, three or four days?”

“Dib! You can’t just go a week without showering.” exclaimed the Professor.

“Yes, I can. Zim’s stupid alien DNA made me allergic to water.”

“Dib, you’re showering when we get home, and that is final. New topic: what do you kids want for dinner?”

“Can we get Bloaty’s again?”

Dib and the Professor collectively groaned at the suggestion. At least they could agree on something .

“Gaz, I swear to god, if I have to eat pizza for dinner two days in a row- Ow, goddammit!”

“Dib! Language!”

“ Sorry , but I keep biting my stupid alien tongue. It hurts. A lot. And I really don’t want to eat pizza again. No offense, Gaz, but you’ve kind of ruined it for me with how much you insist on eating the stuff for every family dinner.”

“Maybe that’s your problem and not mine.”

“No, Gaz, your brother has a point. It’s his turn to pick. Son, what do you want for dinner? It can be anything; anything at all.”

Dib had to think for a moment. It had been practically forever since the last time he’d chosen family dinner, and he didn’t really have any ideas. His newly-acquired dietary restrictions didn’t make it easier, especially since Zim hadn’t really told him which foods to avoid, just to stick to sugar. Dib didn’t want to eat sugar, though, he wanted real food. Pasta was full of carbs, wasn’t it? Something Membrane couldn’t fuck-up?  

“I don’t know. Do we have spaghetti or something in the house?”

“Yes, actually! I did some grocery shopping while you were in recovery. I’d like to try cooking more often while I’m spending time with you guys.”

That thought didn’t sit well with Dib. 

When they pulled into the driveway, Dib ran inside so he could get to his computer as soon as possible. He’d vowed to expose Zim to the world, and he fully intended to do so, but he also had to finally tell the Swollen Eyeballs about everything that happened in the past week. If there was anyone who was willing to listen to him, he’d find them in the Eyeball forums.

“Now, Dib-” Membrane stopped him before he could get to his room.

“I know, I know. I need to shower. Fine , I’ll do that.”

“I’ll get to work on dinner while you do that. Gaz, would you like to help?”

“I’m good. I’m going to play Squid Wars.”

“Oh, have fun with that.”

Dib reluctantly headed into the bathroom and began to undress. He really, really didn’t want to go anywhere near running water, but he knew Membrane wasn’t taking ‘tap water burns my skin’ as an excuse. He was going to have to do it eventually, although his PAK was making the process rather inconvenient.

Am I just supposed to shower with a shirt on? Am I going to have to cut it off?

Unsure of what else to do, Dib tried to pull his shirt up. The PAK disconnected, as it had back in the hospital, and it suddenly felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. As soon as his shirt was over his head, the PAK clicked back into place, and Dib’s breathing returned to normal.

Maybe that’s why Zim wears the same thing every day.

Dib couldn’t imagine what it would be like having to do that every time he had to change clothes, but he quickly realized that was likely going to be his reality. He inspected his shirt, it had two, perfectly-round holes in the back that he could fit his hands through. 

He tossed his clothes in a corner, turned on the hot water, and stuck out his hand, bracing himself for the pain that was sure to come, but to his surprise, he only felt the warmth of the running water. He was safe, for now, so for the first time in several days, Dib took a shower. Initially, he was worried about the PAK shorting-out from the water, but fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on how he thought about it – it appeared to be waterproof. Even though his paste coating hadn’t worn off yet, it wasn’t necessarily a pleasant experience. While his body was shielded from the water’s acidic effects, the scratches and scrapes he’s accumulated on Irk still stung, he hated the feeling of water endlessly pelting his antennae, and he could only watch in horror as more and more strands of his hair ran down the drain.

Nononononono

Panicking, he quickly shut off the water and got out of the shower. As he frantically dried himself off, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and did a double-take. Gaz’s assessment of ‘pretty messed-up’ was spot-on. His eyes were a deep, solid ruby, and as he’d suspected, he’d maintained some superficial wounds from his time off-planet. His teeth were jagged and his tongue was long and worm-like, and slightly swelling at the tip from being bitten on the rise home. The tips of his ears were turning grey, his cowlick was noticeably thinning, and there were bald patches forming on the sides of his head, most prominently around his antennae, which seemed to have gotten longer. He stared at his reflection, transfixed, the juxtaposition of his mostly human face against his alien skin eliciting a visceral feeling of disgust and horror, but also an odd sense of fascination.

“Irkens don’t have hair, Dib.” Zim’s words stuck in the back of his mind. This wasn’t a dream, this was actually happening.

I can’t go back to skool like this. Hell, I can’t let anyone see me like this. Come on, Zim, you could have at least told me how to use this thing.

As if his thoughts carried some kind of magic word, his body began to shimmer as the projector kicked into action and his human appearance was restored. 

Yes, finally!

Suddenly, the Professor knocked on the door to announce that dinner was ready, startling Dib and causing the illusion to vanish once again.

No, come back!

“Son, it’s time to eat.”

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute. I’m kind of busy with something right now!”

Please come back, please come back, please come back.

No amount of hoping and wishing seemed to re-activate the hologram.

“Are you going to be much longer? Your food’s getting cold.”

“Give me ten seconds , Dad!”

Defeated, Dib put his jeans back on, gathered his shirt, and exited the bathroom.

Membrane was waiting with Gaz at the dinner table, plates of pasta covered in dark red tomato sauce at each seat. The food looked actually edible, a stark contrast to his toast from a few days prior, but Dib still wasn’t confident in his father’s culinary skills, or that he wouldn’t experience some disgusting reaction to the pasta sauce.

“Took you long enough.”

“I’m sorry, Gaz. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I have bigger things to worry about right now.”

Dib poked at his dinner, unsure if he wanted to actually attempt to consume it. Membrane took notice, and inquired as to why he wasn’t touching his spaghetti.

“Why aren’t you eating, son. Wasn’t this your suggestion?”

“I’m not hungry. My ‘spooch hasn’t been feeling that great lately.”

Shit. What am I saying? 

“Your what?”

“My stomach! I meant to say my stomach. The food at skool’s been making me sick.”

Dib didn’t even know if he had a squeedlyspooch, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if he did. He had no way of knowing what was going on inside of him, but if it was as drastic as what was happening to him on the outside, the idea that his organs had been rearranged wasn’t too far-fetched. Still, he was absolutely disgusted that those words had even left his mouth. 

“Well, this shouldn’t make you sick. It’s food, not poison.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just try it. It won’t be like the toast, I promise.”

Hesitating, Dib finally took a bite. It tasted fine. It tasted quite good, actually, but the texture was just.. wrong, and the way the noodles wrapped around his tongue felt unpleasant and made it hard to chew. He was barely able to choke it down. He didn’t feel like eating any more.

“So, what do you think?”

“I’m full.”

“But you’ve barely eaten anything.”

“I’m still full. And I have important business to get to. I’ve been waiting all week to talk to the Eyeballs. I can’t wait anymore, I need to tell them about how Zim’s turning me into an al-”

“Dib,” the Professor said sternly, “I thought we were done with this.”

“No, I’m not ‘done with this’, and I’m not going to be until you admit I’m telling the truth. There’s no way you genuinely believe this is just pinkeye.”

“Well, I think that’s certainly more possible than ‘Alien DNA’.”

Dib didn’t say anything as he stormed off to his room to find somebody who could actually believe him. He got out his laptop and turned on his webcam to start a recording. He recoiled at the sight of his distorted face staring back from the computer screen, but he still had to push forward. The world had to know. He took a second to prepare, inhaled, and pressed [RECORD].

“My fellow Eyeballs, I have an important update regarding the alien who infiltrated my skool.”

He took another moment to breathe and gather his thoughts, before letting out all of his built-up frustration in the form of an unhinged rant.

“Look at what that fucker did to me! I still don’t know how he did it, but now he’s trying to turn me into an alien so he can use me to take over the planet. Look at this!” he rubbed his forearm, “That's not paint, that’s not makeup, that’s my actual skin. Or my hands: I took a shower earlier and I’m amazed I didn’t slice my own scalp open with these claws. Don’t even get me started on these fucking antennae, or the fact that my hair's starting to fall out! Do you have any idea how fucked-up that is?”

He continued to rant about everything. About his changing body, about the deal with Zim, about their journey to another planet, about Zim’s apparent status as a traitor, about the weird things the alien instincts were doing to his mind, and especially about the PAK.

“They’re trying to tell me it’s a normal medical device, but I know better. Human medical devices don’t do this !” Dib was hoping that he could release a PAK leg or two, but nothing happened.

“Hold on a second, maybe they’re just camera shy. Go, PAK-leg!”

Nothing. 

“Come on, you’re making me look like an idiot here.”

Try as he might, Dib couldn’t will the PAK legs back into the open.

Why couldn’t this thing come with an instruction manual or something.

“Well, what I was trying to say is that there’s robot-spider-leg-things built into this thing, which is admittedly kind of cool, but not when they’re eating away at my humanity. My soul is bonded to this stupid backpack and Zim’s stupid hivemind and I don’t know what to do about it. My dad thinks I’m crazy, everyone else I’ve talked to keeps telling me I just have pinkeye. If anyone out there believes me, please please message me. I just need someone to talk to, someone to help me navigate through this mess who I can trust to not dissect me or use me as a lab rat. Thank you for your time. I hope at least one of you will understand. Mothman, out.”

He stopped the recording, opened the Swollen Eyeball chatroom, and clicked ‘send’. 

It didn’t take long for the comments to start flowing in.

[Not funny Moth]

V

[I don’t buy it. Where’d you get those antennae, the dollar store?]

V

[This kid has to be trolling, right?]

V

[you said the other guy is an alien but now youre saying youre an alien too? im not sure im following correctly]

V

[Dude, put on a shirt. No one needs to see that]

V

[Go away Mothman, you’re making the rest of us look bad]

V

[THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN DELETED]

V

[YES! THANK YOU!!!!]

V

[kys mothman]

V

They didn’t believe him. They didn’t care. Despite the blatant evidence, despite him pouring his heart out, Dib was met only with mockery.

Gaz opened the door and peeked into Dib’s room.

“What do you want?”

“Just checking in. How’s the big exposé going?”

“They don’t believe me. They’re all laughing at me. They think I’m making this all up!”

“I wish I could say I’m surprised, but you really should have seen this coming.”

“My antennae don’t really look like pipecleaners, do they?”

“Eh, kind of.”

“Look at this, some asshole told me to kill myself!”

“Let me see.. Oh that’s nothing. I’ve heard way worse over voice chat. Speaking of which, there’s a Splat-a-thon going on right now and Team Pizza needs me, so if you don’t need me for anything, I’m going to head out.”

“Hold on, Gaz, can you help me with one thing, before you go?”

“What?”

“I was wondering if you could maybe, kind of, help me take the PAK off.”

“That sounds like a really bad idea, Dib.”

“Well, I don’t want to go to skool with this thing sticking out of my back. And I don’t want any more giant holes in my clothes either. I just need you to pull it off me real quick.”

“But wouldn’t that kill you? You said it yourself, you kind of need that thing.”

“Come on, Gaz. I promise I’ll leave you alone with your stupid video games after this.”

“You keep saying that, but you really haven’t done the best job of keeping your word lately.”

“ Pleeeeeaaase ?”

“God, you’re pathetic. No, I’m not going to remove the only thing keeping you alive. I’m going to go play Squid Wars with my friends, and I better not catch you trying to kill yourself while I’m gone.”

I’m not trying to kill myself, I’m trying to undo the damage Zim did to my body. How is that so hard to understand?

Dib glanced at his PAK and sighed. If he was going to be stuck with this thing, he might as well figure out how it worked. He took out Zim’s note and read through it over, and over, and over again, trying to find some clue about how to turn it on, but came up empty.

Maybe if he just.. focused hard enough, something would happen. It sounded stupid, and it probably was, but he didn’t really know what else to do. 

Okay, okay. Human disguise. Wait, no, not a disguise; I’m still a human, I can’t let anything change that. Just need to think about being normal, and not green, with all of my hair, and without this goddamn PAK.

Once again, his body shimmered as the hologram activated. Dib was ecstatic. He never thought he’d ever be this happy to see his fleshy, human meat-fingers, but here he was, rejoicing, now that he had solved the impossible challenge of toggling an on/off switch with his mind. He checked his webcam, which showed that he did, in fact, appear fully human. He turned around a few times. He seemed to be fully covered, not a trace of Irken visible, except for the PAK, sticking out of his back like a giant, glowing, sore thumb. No amount of alien technology could hide the fact that he was still an abomination. He moved around a bit: waving his arms, running a quick lap around his room, just to test if the hologram would hold. It did. Maybe if he just left it on indefinitely he could ignore the alien stuff and pretend nothing ever happened. He knew that would probably never happen, but a guy could dream.

Dib had more than enough “excitement” for the day, hell, for the whole weekend , and now that he’d seemingly solved his most pressing issue, he just wanted to lie down, in his own bed, and get some real, uninterrupted sleep. Too exhausted, physically and emotionally, to do anything else, he climbed in bed, wrapped himself in a blanket, and fell asleep, quietly dreading the future.

Chapter Text

Dib was floating in an empty, black void. It was a different kind of void than the vastness of space. Space was populated with innumerable stars and planets, but here, there was just darkness and nothingness, except for three, soft, pink lights in the distance. They weren’t stars, Dib wasn’t sure what they were, but he felt drawn to them. He tried swimming towards them, but found himself aimlessly flailing around with nothing to propel him forward, somersaulting in the abyss.

He could hear voices; two male, one female.Cold and robotic, they seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. Wherever he was, he was not alone, and he had a sinking feeling he wasn’t supposed to be there.

[HE IS AN INTERESTING CREATURE, THIS ‘DIB MEMBRANE’]

[HIS PAK IS ENCODED AS ‘HUMAN’. ARE THOSE NOT THE INHABITANTS OF EARTH THAT ZiM SPEAKS OF?]

[THIS SHOULDN’T BE POSSIBLE. IF HE HAS A BLOOD INFECTION HE SHOULD BE EITHER DEAD OR UNDER IRKEN CONTROL. HOW DID HE GET A BLANK PAK?]

[IT APPEARS HE GOT IT FROM ZiM]

[YES, ZiM DOES SEEM TO BE TAMPERING WITH PAKS NOW. THAT’S ONE MORE REASON FOR RED AND PURPLE TO GET THEIR ACT TOGETHER. WE CAN’T HAVE HIM GIVING AWAY THE EMPIRE’S SECRETS TO ALIEN SMEETS]

[PERHAPS THIS ‘HUMAN’ CAN BE OF USE TO US]

[HE KNOWS A LOT ABOUT ZiM. THE TWO HAVE DONE BATTLE MANY TIMES]

[BUT HE’S NOT AN IRKEN. HOW DO WE KNOW IF WE CAN TRUST HIM?]

“Who are you people?” Dib shouted into the void, “Why are you talking about me like that? What do you mean you’re trying to control me? What do you know about Zim?”

[IS THAT HIM? THE HUMAN?]

[HOW DID HE GET HERE? HOW LONG HAS HE BEEN THERE? DO YOU THINK HE HEARD US?]

[HE KNOWS TOO MUCH ALREADY]

“Wait, I have so many questions!”

The lights began to brighten and the void turned into an all-consuming static as Dib felt himself fading away.

[WE WILL MEET AGAIN, DIB MEMBRANE. YOUR QUESTIONS WILL BE ANSWERED IN TIME] 

system restart in 

3…

2..

1.

|

Dib woke up in a cold sweat. The PAK was humming, and its soft pink glow had changed to a harsh, blinking, red light. 

He had no idea what he’d just seen, but it didn’t feel like a normal dream. No, someone was watching him, and whoever it was knew about his rivalry with Zim. He felt violated, and a little bit paranoid. Who were those voices? How much did they know? Were they watching him at that very moment?

A tiny voice in his head was screaming “ Control Brains ”, but he didn’t know what any of that meant, just that they probably had some connection to the Irken Empire. He got out of bed to add another note to the corkboard before he forgot.

[ weird dream voices; control brains?]

Then he remembered something the control brains had said. He pinned-up another card and connected it to the previous one with a purple string.

[ blood infection? ]

As he began to ponder the implications of that phrasing, he was interrupted by a metallic tapping noise coming from elsewhere in his room. Through the darkness he could see a pair of glowing, red eyes on the other side of his window.

He walked over to investigate, and saw a large, black cat with a fluffy tail, scratching at the base of the window.  As he approached, it stopped and stared into his eyes before darting away into the night. Dib wasn’t sure what, but something about that cat was wrong. Possibly supernatural in origin? Maybe a bakeneko? No, those were endemic to Japan. A cactus cat, perhaps?

The cat wasn’t Dib’s biggest concern at the moment. He had bigger things to worry about. As he went back to sleep, he began to concoct a plan. If Zim wasn’t going to fix him, he was going to do everything he could to make his life a living hell. This wasn’t about saving the planet anymore, and it wasn’t about research either. Tomorrow, he was going to start plotting revenge.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Dib awoke with an energy and motivation he hadn’t experienced since Zim had first arrived on Earth. It was early, and his alarm wasn’t set to go off for another hour or two, but that didn’t bother him. He had work to do.

He headed for the garage – Phase One of his plan would require getting some of his old inventions out of storage – but when he passed through the kitchen, there was a stranger sitting at the table, sipping tea and reading the newspaper. He was tall and tan, wearing a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of pajama pants with electron orbitals on them.  Dib hated that he recognized what those were. The man’s hair swooped back in an exaggerated cowlick, and behind his glasses, his face was oddly familiar.. a lot like Dib’s, actually.

Wait a minute. It can’t be…

“Dad? Is that you?”

“Oh, good morning, Son. What are you doing up so early?”

Dib was absolutely dumbfounded. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his father labcoat-less, if ever. Staring at him was like looking into a mirror from 30 years in the future. If Membrane simply pulling down his collar was enough for the world to collapse, seeing him now, exposed and vulnerable, would have caused the complete annihilation of the universe. Without the layers of science gear, he just looked like a regular person, performing the mundane, normal-person task of doing a crossword puzzle.

“I was, uh.. going to get something out of storage.”

“Are you okay?” the Professor put down his paper, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

No, a ghost would have been exciting. Membrane looked almost naked like that. This was just awkward.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just that- How do I put this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a lab coat on.”

Membrane glanced down at his attire and chuckled to himself. “No, I don’t think you have. How long has it been? Twelve years? Wow.”

What, you’re not going to apologize? You’re not going to acknowledge how fucked-up that is?

“So, um, do you need help? With getting your things out of storage.”

“No, I think I can do it myself.”

Dib went to open the door to the garage, but found it locked. Years ago, Membrane had used it as an extension of his basement laboratory, and in order to keep the younger Dib and Gaz from interrupting his work, the direction of the lock had been changed. The keyhole faced into the house, and only one person had the key. Dib had been storing his own projects in there, but now that Membrane was home again, it seemed the area had once again become a restricted space.

Dib reluctantly turned around, re-entered the kitchen, and gritted his teeth as he swallowed his pride, and asked the Professor for help.

“Dad, can you please unlock the garage?”

“Of course! Let me get the keys.”

Membrane went off to his own room and returned with a small, brass key. He unlocked the door, opened it, and flicked-on the lights, before crouching down, and offering the key to Dib.

“Sorry for locking you out, I didn’t realize you’d been using it while I was gone. Here, you can have the key if you want. I think I can trust you with it.”

Dib reached out to take the key, but retracted his hand when he noticed something about the Professor’s. It had an almost skeletal form made of wires and metal.

What the hell? Is my dad an android?

Membrane noticed Dib’s hesitance. “What, is it my hand?”

Dib nodded his head.

“Right, you wouldn’t know. Um, it’s okay, son. I’m not going to hurt you. You can touch it, if you like.”

Dib took the key and placed it in his pocket. He stared at his father’s hand, transfixed by its mechanical beauty. Even he could recognize that it was a masterpiece of engineering, the various parts melding together in harmony not unlike the bone and tendons of a real hand. It was a lot to take in. He barely knew anything about the Professor, yet here they were, sharing an intimate, family moment.

Hesitating at first, Dib carefully ran his fingers across his father’s massive, titanium palm, feeling every hinge and every screw, letting his claws pass through each groove. How had he gone his whole life without knowing about this? 

“Has it always been like that?”

“Not always, though I lost them long before you were created.”

“ Them ?”

Membrane nodded and rolled up both his sleeves. From the elbows down, both of his arms were sleek and robotic.

“When I was around your age, my parents left me unsupervised near a shark tank. I thought the sharks were my friends but, well, you can see how that ended.”

Dib was speechless. What other secrets had his dad been keeping from him all these years?

“Science saved my life. I’d held a passing interest in it for years, but if it wasn’t for that shark attack, I don’t think I would have decided to pursue it as a career. I wanted to use science to help others the same way it helped me, and now,” Membrane wiped a tear from his eyes and rested a hand on Dib’s PAK, “Science has saved your life, too.”

Sure. “Science”. 

On second thought, maybe they weren’t so different after all…

“What was it like, surviving an incident like that and suddenly being part machine?” Dib nudged away his dad’s arm, “Did you have to learn how to use your arms again?”

“It took some getting used to, yes.”

I am probably going to regret this .

“Does it ever feel, I don’t know, wrong ? Like you’ve lost a part of yourself you might not be able to get back? Do you ever wish you could be fully human again?”

Membrane paused to think for a moment, contemplating, like this was something he’d never considered before.

Dib wished he’d never asked. Why did he even bother? Why would his father ever understand a mere fraction of what he was going through?

“I’m perfectly happy where I am now,” Membrane stated, matter-of-factly. “I don’t think I’d have it any other way. After all, if I hadn’t pursued science, I might not have made you and Gaz.”

That was certainly a less tone-deaf response than Dib was expecting. Not any kind of advice like he’d been hoping for, and he didn’t particularly like being reminded he was grown in a lab, but nothing particularly insulting either. Knowing the Professor, Dib wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started raving about the miracles of science instead, and he was grateful that didn’t happen. Gaz had suggested that maybe their father did care about them, just in his own weird, science-y way, and Dib was starting to see that for himself, but it was still too little, too late. 

The Professor unrolled his sleeves and got up off the floor. He seemed nervous himself, like he was uncomfortable talking to Dib in the first place, “Alright then, what was it you needed again?”

“It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Dib scanned the garage until he found the distinct shape of an arm-cannon sticking out from under a scrap pile. He tried pulling it out, but it was pinned under the junk heap.

“Do you need help with that?”

“No, you’ve done plenty already.”

If Dib was going to defeat Zim, he was going to do so on his own. He might use his father’s resources to restore his humanity, but anything more than that would be admitting, to a degree, that the Professor was right, and he was not going to admit defeat to his own dad.

He pulled again, straining against the weight of the metal mound.

“Are you sure, Son? I can just lift up the-”

“No, Dad, I can do this myself!”

Dib collected himself before pulling one last time. As he dug his feet into the ground, three PAK legs sprung out of his back, two lifting up the scrap pile, one anchoring him in place as he put all of his weight into retrieving what he needed. He could feel all of it, every click and every whirr, but just as suddenly as they’d appeared, they retracted back into his PAK as the cannon finally dislodged, and Dib stumbled backwards, his old food launcher finally in hand.

Membrane rushed over to get a better look at what was going on. He stopped and stood over Dib, utterly astonished by what he’d seen.

“Son, what was that?” his voice was shaking.

“ That was the alien technology I’ve been telling you about. Seriously, give me one logical explanation for why a medical device would have mechanical spider legs coming out the back.”

The Professor was silent. Finally, Dib had the satisfaction of knowing there were things even his dad couldn’t explain-away with his ‘real science’ bullcrap.

“That’s what I thought.”

“So, um, what do you have there?” Membrane was clearly trying to change the subject. He was uncomfortable; possibly starting to doubt. Maybe he’d finally realized he was wrong.

“It’s a food launcher. I made it for skool. It’s for firing cafeteria food at alien intruders.”

“Did you build it yourself?”

“Yeah.”

The Professor’s face lit up instantly.

“I knew it! My boy’s an inventor! Just like his old man!”

He picked up Dib in a big bear hug, catching Dib incredibly off-guard. He was not used to such physical affection, and he didn’t like it one bit. It felt like any second, he could be crushed in his father’s big, metal arms.

“What? Dad! Can you please let go of me?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, son,” Membrane put Dib down and brushed some hairs off his arm, “I’m just.. so proud of you. Can I see it?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. Just, please, don’t do that ever again.”

Dib handed the device over.

“Hmmm. Your welding’s a bit sloppy, and I would have used a lighter material, but overall I’d say this shows tremendous effort. Well done, Dib!”

Was that a compliment? Dib couldn’t remember ever receiving a compliment from his father before.

“Uh, thank you, I guess. Can I have it back?”

“Of course. Son, why didn’t you tell me you were inventing things? I would’ve been more than happy to give you some pointers.”

“Because I don’t want you standing over my shoulder telling me what to do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some important things to do before skool starts, and I’d like to do them myself.”

Dib tried wearing his device on his back, like he normally would, but his PAK obstructed it, so instead he dragged it across the floor as he went back to his room to get ready for the day proper.

In choosing his wardrobe for the day, he grabbed a worn-out shirt and an older jacket that he was starting to outgrow. Things he never intended to wear again, because he didn’t want to punch any more holes in his good clothes. As he pulled them over his head, feeling his shirt tighten as it slid over his PAK, he held his breath and braced himself. 

Once again, the PAK dropped to the floor, and it felt like his lungs were being crushed like a tin can. When it clicked back into place, he went into a coughing, wheezing fit and coughed up a small amount of pink, Irken blood.

He couldn’t keep this up. Each time he’d detached his PAK had been more painful than the last. No wonder Zim wore the same thing every day, it probably would’ve killed him not to.

He tried putting on the food launcher again. Clipping the viewing scope to his glasses and sliding his hand into the arm cannon. It had been a while since he’d last used it, but it still fit perfectly. He just needed to figure out how to fit the ammo tank around his PAK. He tried putting it on normally again, like he would a normal backpack, but he couldn’t even fit both straps around his shoulders, and the tank was rocking side-to-side around the PAK’s rounded shape. It was frustrating and uncomfortable.

He tried again, from the front this time, the tank pressing against his chest. It restricted his movement a bit with its bulkiness, but he could make it work, right? He posed dramatically and aimed his arm cannon at some pillows, imagining Zim’s terrified face on the other end. Yeah, he could make it work. He just hoped Zim wouldn’t think to scoot to the left a little.

The plan was simple. Humiliate Zim in front of the whole skool, expose him to the world, all that stuff. He hadn’t quite figured out Phase Two yet, but he knew it was going to be something horrible. Maybe he could find a way to turn Zim into a human or something, that would show him. Wait, no, how would he even do that?

He needed to stay focused. Getting through the skool day was his top priority. He’d get back at Zim, but he couldn’t expose him while he still looked like this . No one would take him seriously. The Eyeballs were already calling him a hypocrite and a faker, and they respected him. Dib didn’t want to think about what his classmates would do to him, especially since they were already treating him like he had a contagious disease.

He set aside the food launcher, closed his eyes, and focused as hard as he could on reactivating his hologram.

Come on, come ooonn. I just have to make it through the skool day.

He felt something clicking in his PAK, and an odd sensation that felt like he’d suddenly sprouted a third arm from his back. When he opened his eyes, the projection was fully functioning, and he was face-to-face with the end of his own PAK leg. 

He reached out to touch it, and it pulled back, like a reflex. It was just as much a part of him as any other body part, a thought that was unsettling at first, but became slightly less so the longer he stared at it. This was alien technology, unlike anything else on Earth, and he, in theory, had complete control over it. It might be useful, actually. Maybe he could try testing it on something.

Dib’s gaze shifted to a sock on the floor. Perfect.

Maneuvering the PAK leg was strange, like controlling a muscle he’d never used before. It’s movement was jerky and uncoordinated at first, and sometimes it seemed like it was moving in the exact opposite direction he wanted it to, but as it got closer to the sock, the motion began to feel more and more natural, no different than moving an arm or leg. 

The PAK leg scratched at the floor around the sock as Dib strained, trying to control its more precise movement. It was infuriating watching the pointed tip getting closer and closer, but never close enough to pick up the tiny article of clothing. He was barely able to lift up the edge of the heel before someone pounded on the door, and the shock caused the PAK leg to snap back into his back.

“Dib! Dad says breakfast is ready!”

“Gaz! You made me lose my focus!”

“On what?”

“It’s none of your business. Give me a second, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Dib decided it wasn’t worth it to keep trying with the PAK leg. He picked up his socks normally, tied his shoes, and returned to the kitchen. Somewhat to his disappointment, but not necessarily to his surprise, Membrane was fully dressed, his face once again obscured. Back to being that cold, distant figure. At least the smoking ‘toaster’ was nowhere to be seen.

“You’re looking a lot better, son.”

“No, Dad, it’s just an illusion, see?” Dib dropped his hologram for a few seconds before turning it back on. It was starting to become like second nature to him, kind of like snapping his fingers.

Membrane appeared unfazed, but it was hard to tell under his tall collar.

On the table was a plate with a single pop-tart on it, a glass of water, and a tiny, plastic bottle.

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“Breakfast. I’m still trying to fix the toaster.”

“I mean this stuff,” Dib picked up the bottle and tried reading the label, but it was covered in big sciencey-looking words he didn’t understand.

“Eyedrops. For your pinkeye. The doctor’s note said you need to put two drops in each eye two times a day.”

“Dad, I told you, I don’t have ‘pinkeye’. The actual pigment in my eyeballs is a different color because I’m turning into an alien freak. I shouldn’t have to keep explaining this.”

“And I shouldn’t have to keep explaining this either: there are no aliens on Earth, and you can’t change species. It’s scientifically impossible.”

“Tell that to my stupid worm-tongue.”

“Dib, I thought we were done with this.”

“No, we’re not. And I will not shut up about it until you admit I’m right and help me do something about it.”

“Dib, take your eyedrops. We can discuss this after skool.”

“Will you promise to actually listen to me this time?”

“If it means you’ll stop complaining about nonsense, yes.”

I’ll take it .

“Fine, I’ll take the stupid eyedrops.”

Dib sat down, put his glasses on the table, and anxiously held the tiny squeeze bottle over his eye. He hesitated, half-expecting his eyeball to melt out of its socket, but surprisingly, other than the general discomfort of dropping a cold liquid over his eye, he experienced no ill effects. It still wasn’t pleasant, though.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Dib didn’t answer. He ate his pop-tart in silence. Chewing still didn’t feel right, the chunks of pastry sticking in the weird gaps in his teeth, but at least he wasn;t biting his tongue anymore. With each bite, his antennae buzzed as a rush of energy flowed through his body, and all his residual drowsiness faded away. Sugar! He needed more.

“Dad, do we have any more pop-tarts?”

“Of course. Do you want another one?”

“Yes, please.”

Membrane sorted through the cabinets for silver packet and handed it to Dib, which he tore open and devoured the contents of as quickly as he could.

“Are you okay, Dib? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat like that,” Gaz seemed equally impressed and concerned.

“I’m fine,” Dib said, through a mouthful of food, “It’s an Irken thing, don’t worry about it.”

Weird sugar thing aside, Dib was happy he’d found a food source that wasn’t going to make him sick. He wasn’t going to take his chances with the skool cafeteria, so he needed to stock-up on energy for the day.

“Just let me know when you’re finished, Son. We need to get you two to skool.”

Right, they were still driving to skool. At the very least, Dib wouldn’t have to haul the food launcher across town on his own.

“Yeah, can I grab something before we go?”

“Sure thing, just make it quick.”

Dib swallowed the last of his breakfast and ran to gather-up his secret weapon. He couldn’t tell if it was the sugar or just his own anticipation, but he had a feeling everything was going to work out today.

Chapter Text

“Good luck with your science project, Dib. And remember, you’re grounded, so no walking home by yourself.”

“Yeah, I got it, Dad. Thank you.”

The ride to skool hadn’t been quite as miserable that day. Being trapped in a car with his father still wasn’t the greatest experience for Dib. He’d been informed he was grounded, which apparently meant he wasn’t allowed to leave the house without permission. Not like that was going to stop him. He’d find a way to sneak out. He wasn’t going to let a little thing like grounding stop him from defeating Zim.

When he entered the building, the first thing he did was hide the food launcher in an out-of-order bathroom stall. Fitting it under his desk would have been a pain-in-the-ass, so he was just going to retrieve it at lunch time. 

Then, he entered the classroom and approached his desk, but there was already someone sitting there. It was that girl, the one Gaz was talking to after skool. Was she a new student? Something about her felt wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on what. She was just giving off a bad vibe.

“Who the hell are you supposed to be?”

“I’m Tak. I’m new here.”

“Yeah, I noticed. You’re sitting in my seat.”

“Oh, you’re the crazy kid,” she chuckled, “Everyone was telling me you died.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I am, unfortunately, very much alive, and I’d like my seat back so I can keep an eye on Zim.”

She paused for a moment, as if contemplating something.

“Well, I was going to get up and leave, but now that you’ve mentioned that , I think I’m going to keep it.”

“I’m not sure you understand, the fate of the world is at stake here!" Dib slammed his hands on top of the desk and gestured towards Zim's empty seat, "There is an alien invader who sits on the other side of this classroom, and I’m the only thing standing between him and the destruction of Earth.”

“I think you should go bash your head into a wall.”

A weird glint of light, almost like a camera flash, seemed to come from the corner of her eye. Dib rubbed his eyes. He had to be seeing things, right. Was there something on his glasses? No? Strange.

“Well.. I think you should get out of my way so I can get back to saving the planet.”

Tak seemed surprised by Dib’s response. She muttered something to herself that he couldn’t quite make out. She was hiding something, he could just feel it.

A dark shadow began to loom over the two of them as Ms Bitters towered over Dib from behind.

“Dib, leave the new student alone.”

“But that’s my desk.”

“Then you should have been here yesterday to claim it.”

“Ms Bitters, I was in the hospital yesterday.”

“There’s a cardboard box in the back of the room. You can sit there until we get the budget for another desk.”

She was so tall, so imposing, so authoritative.…

“Yes my Tallest!- err, Ms Bitters.”

Shut-up, shut-up, shut-up, you stupid, alien-brain thing!

Ms Bitters raised an eyebrow. Tak squinted at Dib. Zim, who had apparently entered while they were arguing, was snickering from the other side of the room.

Shut up, Zim, you know damn well you’ve done the exact same thing.

“I’ll just sit down.. At my uh, dirty, cardboard box.”

“That’s an interesting backpack you have there, Dib,” Tak remarked as Dib passed behind her desk.

“Thanks… I guess.”

Dib hastily shuffled to the back of the classroom. He didn’t know who Tak was, or where she came from, but she was suspicious. She knew something. He wasn’t sure what, or how, but something about her just wasn’t right.

“Now that you’re all-”

RRRRRINNNGGG

Ms Bitters glared at the bell before re-addressing the class.

“Now that you’re all seated, I have an important announcement to make. In the skool’s misguided efforts to prepare you for the workforce, I’ve been instructed to inform you that Friday will be, ugh, ‘Parents’ Day’. Since apparently you children still need guidance in deciding how you’re going to waste the rest of your short, miserable lives, every one of you is supposed to invite a parent to speak to the class about their useless contributions to society.”

Another career day? The skool should have known by now that every kid in that classroom was a lost cause. Dib wasn’t particularly excited about the prospect of Membrane coming to class. Any and all hope of escaping his father’s shadow would be crushed the second he stepped through that door. Maybe he just wouldn’t tell him about it.

His classmates immediately began chattering amongst themselves. Talking excitedly about the upcoming event, bragging about their parents’ various careers, shitting on each other for being ‘poor’. Zim was quietly twiddling his thumbs, no doubt plotting something.

After a while, the kid sitting in front of Dib turned around and asked, rather loudly, “Hey Dib, isn’t your dad Professor Membrane?”

The whole room went silent as all eyes fell upon Dib. He felt like he was under a spotlight. So much for escaping the Professor’s influence. Why couldn’t those stupid humans just keep to themselves? 

“Yeah,” he grumbled, “Why do you ask?”

“He’s coming to Parents’ Day, right?”

“No. He’s too busy,” Dib lied.

“Oh, that’s a shame. Do you think you can convince him to video call or something? It would be really cool if he showed up.”

“I’ll think about it. Don’t you have a pencil to gnaw on or something?”

“I do, actually. Thanks for the reminder.”

The class quickly returned to their aimless babbling, although now mixed into the conversations was the occasional remark about how exciting it was that the Professor Membrane might be coming to class.

Filthy humans… No, what am I thinking? I can’t let myself sink to Zim’s level. *argh*, but they’re so stupid and annoying and gross!

“Alright, class, settle down. Since your spirits seem to have been lifted, it is now my duty to crush them again. Get out your textbooks, we’re going to be doing word problems for the rest of the day. Yes, Zim?”

“Could you elaborate on how these so-called ‘word problems’ might be used to overthrow Earth?”

“No. Everyone, turn to problem eighteen on page nine-hundred-and-sixty-seven…”

Dib reached out to get his textbook out of his backpack, but found himself grasping at thin air. His backpack, his real backpack, was in his room, back home.

Fuck.

With nothing better to do, he spent the next couple of hours just sitting there, on the floor, scribbling on his cardboard ‘desk’. He managed to get a few, sloppy spell runes down, and a sketchy diagram of a spaceship zipped around the box before becoming stationary again. 

Maybe he could use magic to return to normal. He’d have to dig through his research when he got home. There had to be something . 

Several minutes of complete and utter boredom later, the lunch bell rang, and Dib rushed to the bathroom stall, grabbed the food launcher and went to stash it under his lunch table, before getting in line to acquire some ammunition. The day’s special was mashed potatoes and some kind of mushy, mystery meat. Gross. Even if he wasn’t part-Irken, Dib would’ve rather starved than put that stuff anywhere near his mouth. On the plus side, however, it was sure to be extra toxic to Zim.

No one was actively avoiding Dib in the lunch line that day, but they all seemed to quietly take notice of him. He could make out some murmurs from the back of the line. Word was getting out about Parents’ Day, and they were all talking about Professor Membrane. He couldn’t fucking escape it.

He quickly grabbed some ‘food’ and went back to his table, only to find Tak there, with a lunch tray of her own, waiting for him.

“Taking my desk wasn’t enough, was it? You just had to take my lunch table too.”

“No, I just want to talk. I think we got off on the wrong foot earlier and I’d like to start over.” She held out her hand to offer a friendly shake. “Hello, my name is Tak. My dad owns the hotdog factory downtown and this is my second day at this skool. I’ve heard a lot about you from our classmates and I’d like to know more about your theories.”

“Wait, really?”

No one ever asked Dib to talk about his paranormal studies. Of course, that never stopped him from endlessly ranting and rambling to anyone who wouldn’t listen, but this time was different. Somebody actually wanted to hear what he had to say. He couldn’t believe it. There had to be some catch…

“Yes. Tell me all about your ghosts, and monsters, and how Zim is an evil alien trying to take over the world.”

Ok, screw ‘catches’, if Tak wanted to know about Zim, Dib was going to tell her everything. He needed someone on his side right now. He enthusiastically accepted her handshake before sitting down to give her the full run-down.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that. Ok, so it’s pretty self-explanatory, right? I mean, look at him. He’s obviously not human. He doesn’t even have ears.”

“I noticed.”

“So you agree that it can’t be just a skin condition, right? Like, his disguise is so bad, I can’t believe anyone actually falls for it.”

“Well human children are hardly the most intelligent creatures on this nasty rock.”

“I know, right? Have you seen his ‘dog’ yet?”

“That ugly green thing? Yeah. It has to be an alien robot or something, right?”

“Exactly! Holy shit, you have no idea how good it feels to say all that without being relentlessly mocked. Do you want to see something cool?”

“Sure, I guess.”

Dib pulled the food launcher out from under the table and plopped it on the seat next to him.

“What’s that?”

“Only the pinnacle of anti-alien technology, designed by yours truly. Zim’s allergic to the cafeteria food, so I’m going to use this to fire a bunch of it in his face, causing him immense suffering and revealing him as the horrible alien menace he is to the whole skool.”

Tak glanced anxiously at her lunch tray, and then at Dib.

“What are you planning to do once you ‘expose him to the world’ or whatever?”

“Well, first I’ve gotta force him to undo something, but after that I’m not entirely sure. Right now vivisection is looking like a good option.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah. For what he did to me, that cockroach deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

Dib began angrily scraping the contents of his lunch tray into the canister. Some of it splattered on his fingers, causing them to itch and break-out under the hologram. Sure, it was uncomfortable, but he knew that whatever discomfort he was feeling in the moment would be inflicted on Zim tenfold in mere moments.

“Maybe you should consider… other options. Maybe there’s other ways to bring him to justice.”

“Like what?”

“Oh, you know.. more permanent options,” Tak seemed to be musing more to herself than to Dib. She watched him loading the weapon and slid her own lunch tray towards him.

“Here, you can use mine too, I don’t want it anymore,”

“Thanks! You know, it’s really great to finally have someone who believes my theories about Zim. If we work together, maybe we can finally expose him as the alien menace he is!”

“Yeah, maybe .”

“Oh, look. There he is! Stay here, you won’t want to miss this.”

Zim was sitting, alone, by the dumpster, messing with some kind of alien device. Whatever he was up to this time, Dib was about to put a stop to it. He hoisted the food launcher over his chest, strutted over to Zim, flicked on his viewing scope, and pointed his arm cannon squarely at Zim’s chest.

“Oh, hello, Dib. Good to see you got the projector working. How’s the PAK been treating you?”

“It’s annoying. Really, really annoying. And if you don’t take it off me right now, I’m going to blow you to smithereens in front of the whole skool.”

“With mashed potatoes? Are we really going back to this?”

“Take back the fucking PAK and you won’t have to worry about that.”

“I told you I can’t do that. Unless you want to drop dead in front of the whole skool. And do you have any idea how hard it was just to get that thing? Seriously, I save your fucking life and this is how you thank me? Come on Dib, I thought we were friends.”

“We, are not , friends!” Dib shouted as he shoved the nozzle closer to Zim’s face.

“Hey look, the freaks are fighting again!”

A crowd was gathering to watch. Now they had an audience.

Zim was starting to panic. He didn’t show it, but Dib could feel that fear behind Zim’s eyes, see the anxious twitching in his antennae, and hear the scared chirps escaping his throat.

“You don’t want to play this game, Dib,” Zim asserted, “Like it or not, you might as well be an Irken now, and that means I know all your weaknesses, including the ones you don’t even know about!”

“ Don’t call me that!”

“What, Irken ? Why not? You know it’s true.”

Dib’s arm started to tremble.

“You’re lying. I will never be one of you, and I’ll never join you either!”

Dib flicked a switch on his shoulder and stabilized the main launcher, hands shaking as the device charged-up an attack.

“Uh, Dib, I think you might want to check the-”

“Shut the fuck up, Zim!”

Dib was so blinded by his rage that he failed to notice a message flashing in his eye, indicating pressure build-up in the ammo tank. The nozzle sputtered, and the canister’s lid shot-up into the ceiling, its contents spewing out over Dib, Zim, and the other students, covering them in a disgusting slop. That’s when Dib had a realization: he had neglected to clean the food launcher that morning, and it had clogged.

Zim seemed to have had the foresight to throw up an energy shield before the explosion, and he was mostly unscathed.

“You’ve got a little something, eeeeh, everywhere.”

Dib hissed at Zim, threw off the food launcher and wiped the mess off his glasses. Everywhere that horrible slop was touching him was itching like hell, and the projection was starting to glitch, his hands oscillating between normal, human fingers and sharp, Irken claws.

No, no, no. Not here. Not now. Not in front of them.

“I’ll get back at you, Zim! Mark my words!”

Panicking, he abandoned the food launcher and rushed to the restroom to recover and clean himself up, hoping and praying that no one had noticed. He turned off the hologram completely, and went to the sink to get that itchy mush off of himself.

He ripped out a handful of paper towels and began wiping the slop off. His face and hands were breaking-out in a bumpy, dark green rash, and the itching didn’t stop when he wiped the food off. As he cleaned his face, he couldn’t help but notice that the sorry excuse for food was full of hair,not necessarily surprising, and a strange, grey goo.

Ew! What is that stuff?

He piled the used paper towels in the sink, and put his glasses back on, but something felt wrong. He couldn’t feel the frame on his ears, and they immediately began to slowly slide down his nose. He adjusted his glasses, and that’s when he noticed, he couldn’t feel his ears, at all. When he turned to face the mirror, his worst fear was realized.

How did…? No, this can’t be happening!

His outer ears were gone, their remains lying in the sink with even more of his hair. It was like watching his humanity wash down a drain.

“He doesn’t even have ears.”

The universe had a malicious sense of humor, and as Dib stared into that filthy, skool-bathroom mirror, watching himself become less and less human, he started to laugh at this cruel joke his existence had become.

I can’t be like him. I will never be like him. I don’t give a flying fuck what Zim says: I am not a goddamn Irken.

Suddenly, he was interrupted by a door slamming open, and an intruder making her presence known: “You know, I had my suspicions about you from the very beginning. I’ll admit, you’ve done a commendable job of blending in with the humans, but I know what you are, Dib.”

Dib’s whole body became tense, and his antennae began to vibrate. He turned around to find Tak, standing in the doorway. 

Shit.

“I- I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw the explosion, and I’d like to think I know a PAK when I see one. You’re an Irken, aren’t you?”

How does she know about that?

Dib had never told any of his classmates about PAKs, or even the name of Zim’s species. The only way she could know any of that was if she was – 

“Are you from the Swollen Eyeball network? Because if you’re here to laugh at me like the rest of them –”

“How long have you been here, Dib? Did you come to steal my mission? Are you another defective exile?”

Defective? Mission? That was the kind of stuff Zim was talking about on their flight home.

No. There can’t be another one. Not now.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not an Irken. Who the hell are you anyway? How do you know what a PAK is?”

“Oh, right. Where are my manners?”

Tak snapped her fingers, and her own disguise faded to reveal her true form: a pale Irken with purple eyes, curled antennae, and an odd device embedded in the side of her head.

Dib’s squeedlyspooch dropped.

Why would there be another Irken on Earth? What did she mean by ‘mission’?  

Holy shit, she followed us back to Earth, didn’t she?

“Hold on! If this is about what happened on Irk, that wasn’t me. I had nothing to do with that, it was all Zim’s fault!”

“What happened on Irk?”

She doesn’t know? Then what the hell is she doing here ?

“Nevermind. Forget I said anything. What do you want?”

“To make a proposal. You hate Zim, right?”

“With a burning passion.”

“You want him dead?”

“More than anything.”

“Then I believe we may share a common goal. I’m sure you’ve already heard, but right now Zim is the most wanted fugitive in the Empire. There’s glory and recognition for whoever can successfully bring him back to Irk. From what I’ve heard, you know more about him than anyone else on this miserable excuse for a planet, so I would like to request your assistance in bringing him to justice. We can split the reward monies or something, I don’t know.”

Oh no. I’m not falling for this again.

“And why should I trust you ? How do I know you aren’t just trying to use me like Zim?”

“Because Zim’s a little defective traitor who doesn’t give two shits about anyone who isn’t himself. Why are you so apprehensive? You were soo eager to ask for my help when you thought I was a filthy human”

“Look, Tak, was it? Contrary to what you may think, I’m not an Irken, and I don’t really want anything to do with your kind right now, so I'd appreciate it if you packed-up your alien things and got the fuck off of my planet so I can deal with Zim myself.”

Tak briefly looked Dib up and down, perplexed and mildly irritated. Dib adjusted his glasses. They had been slowly sliding down his nose for the duration of their conversation.

“You’re not an Irken, you just happen to look like one, you have a functioning PAK, and you’ve been to our home planet?”

“That’s a long story, but it’s not what it looks like, I swear. I am a human , like everyone else in our class. This was just a rash, but then it spread across my whole body, and Zim installed this fucking PAK on me when I was unconscious, and now I’m, well…”

“An Irken?”

“An abomination , and unless you know how to change me back, I don’t want anything to do with you or your goddamn empire. Why would I side with you when you’re trying to enslave humanity?”

“Oh. Oooooh. You don’t know, do you?”

“Know what? Know what ?”

Tak smiled, obviously taking great joy in imparting the information she was about to share, “Zim isn’t a real Invader. He’s a delusional food service drone who was banished after blowing a hole in our capital city. If the Empire really cared about Earth they would have sent anyone but him.”

What?

Zim being exiled didn’t particularly surprise Dib. Their visit to Irk had taught him he wasn’t exactly well-liked by the other members of his species, but there was still a lot to take in. Not only had he supposedly killed two of their leaders, but he’d blown-up a city, too? This couldn’t be the same Zim who’d tried to fill the atmosphere with cheezo dust, right? No, who was he kidding? That was exactly the kind of thing Zim would do. He was having more trouble believing that second part: the Irkens didn’t want to invade Earth? But they were evil aliens, wasn’t that their whole thing?

“You don’t want to enslave humanity and strip the planet of its resources?”

“Of course not. Your planet’s a polluted shithole, your technology is pitiful, and those humans are the most pathetic excuse for a dominant species I’ve ever seen. Maybe you shouldn’t jump to so many conclusions about us because of one defective worker.”

Okay, that stung a little, but she did have a point. Had he been unfairly judging the whole Irken race? No, that was the Irken in him talking, and he wasn’t going to listen to it. They were still a race of conquerors, and he couldn’t just take one Irken’s word that Earth wasn’t on their hit list. 

“If you still want to tear Zim to shreds, be my guest, but all I’m saying is that if you want to ‘save your planet’ or whatever, you might want to consider collaboration.”

“You said there were ‘more permanent’ ways of dealing with Zim. What did you mean by that?”

“If we bring Zim back to Irk, he’ll be put on trial and judged for his crimes against the Empire. If the Control Brains find him guilty, his PAK will be wiped and all traces of his existence will be erased from the Empire’s databases. It’s the most permanent solution there is.”

Holy shit…

That was how the Empire dealt with traitors? Was that why Zim was so nervous while they were on Irk? Was he scared of being condemned to oblivion? 

“I don’t know, that seems like a bit much.”

"You were talking about cutting him open earlier.”

“That's different. I just want to kill him, not completely wipe him from existence."

“Just think about it. I'll be right here if you come around to it."

The recess bell rang, and the chatter of everyone leaving the cafeteria could be heard from the other side of the restroom door.

“Think about it.”

Tak reactivated her disguise and stepped into the crowd outside as Dib’s glasses fell off his face and onto the floor. He saw that weird glint of light again. Strange. As he picked his glasses back up, he thought about everything she’d said; about the Empire, about Zim. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about all that. He wanted Zim gone, right? He wanted him to no longer be a threat to the human race? Then why did the possibility of wiping him from existence feel so wrong? It was the PAK’s fault, it had to be. There was no way his own conscience would want him to protect Zim of all people.That was all the more reason to get rid of the stupid thing. 

Dib waited for all the commotion to die down before stepping out into the empty hallway. He wasn’t going outside, not yet anyway, he had something else to deal with first. He needed to keep his glasses on. He went back to his now-empty classroom and spied a roll of tape on Ms Bitters’ desk. It would have to do. He wiped some residual goo off the side of his head, got a few strips of tape, and used them to stick the frame of his glasses in place. It itched slightly, but it was better than constantly holding his hands to his face. 

“What do you think you’re doing, young man?”

It was Ms Bitters, back from her lunch monitoring duties. Dib stared at the floor, averting his eyes from her towering height. That morning was a close call. He couldn’t let himself slip again.

“Borrowing some tape? You weren’t here so I was assuming you wouldn’t be needing it any time soon.”

“I saw what happened at lunch. What did we say about starting food fights with the other students?”

“That if it happened again I’d have to clean up the mess myself?”

“Bingo. Grab a mop and bucket from the janitor’s closet. It looks like you’ve got a long afternoon ahead of you, Dib.”

“Is it really a food fight if Zim didn’t even try to fight back?”

“Did I stutter?”

“No, Ms Bitters.”

“Then go make yourself useful for once and get to work.”

“Can I at least get a pair of gloves?”

Ms Bitters pushed him outside and slammed the door. 

“I’ll take that as a no. Ok, where’s that janitor’s closet?”

Dib didn’t particularly want to clean the cafeteria, but maybe performing a monotonous task like that would help him clear his head. And he didn’t really want to cross Tallest Ms Bitters either. She seemed extra sour today. He found the closet, grabbed some cleaning supplies, and went back to the lunch room. The mess was worse than he remembered. Half the tables were splattered with liquefied food, and the floor was littered with the improperly-disposed-of trash his classmates had left behind. Just looking at it made his hands start to itch.

He started mopping the floor, and was immediately hit with the sheer tedium of the task at hand. This was going to take forever, but it didn’t have to, right? He deployed his PAK leg, now with a grabber-claw on the end, and used it to pick up a rag and wipe down a table. At first, it was difficult to control it while also mopping the floor, but the longer he worked at it, the more natural it felt. It was kind of cool, actually, and Dib began to think about the other things he could use it for. Paranormal investigation would certainly be a lot smoother if he didn’t have to rely on Gaz to hold his equipment. Maybe this PAK thing wasn’t all that bad. But as he worked, his mind kept wandering back to everything Tak had said about Zim. What had she called him? Defective? Just thinking the word sent chills down his spine, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Did Zim really deserve to be completely erased? He was certainly dangerous, and definitely a threat to the human race, but Dib couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t know the full story. After all, Zim didn’t seem to think he did anything wrong, but for all he knew that was just a front to let his guard down. 

No, why was he worried about Zim? Zim was a monster and a liar and a genuine threat to mankind and to the Empire. Dib made up his mind. He was going to take up Tak’s offer. He needed to know more, he needed to stop Zim once and for all, and if he was going to be living as an Irken for the foreseeable future, it wouldn’t hurt to be on good terms with one. Only for a little bit though, a few days at most. He was going to stop this ‘blood infection’ or whatever and he was going to return to normal. He had to. He couldn’t keep living like this. 

Why did being part-Irken have to be so confusing? No, he had to face it. Zim was right, Tak was right; he couldn’t call himself human anymore. Humans weren’t green, humans didn’t have antennae, or PAKs, or prehensile tongues, and humans had ears, and hair, and they could write in their own damn languages. Zim was right, he might as well be an Irken now, but he wasn’t going to give up. Membrane was still insisting on dragging him to the lab in a few days, and he would find a cure there, he was sure of it. He just had to convince his father that he was right.

By the time Dib had finished cleaning and thrown out the remains of his food launcher, the skool day had ended, and his classmates had all gone home. Stepping outside, he looked for Tak, but she had disappeared with the rest of the children. Membrane’s van was waiting by the curb, and Gaz was impatiently waiting for him by the door.

“What took you so long?”

“Bitters made me clean the cafeteria. I forgot to clean the fucking food cannon and it exploded.”

“I saw that. Where is it now?”

“I threw it away. The thing was completely destroyed, it was unsalvageable.”

“I noticed you’ve been talking to the new girl.”

“Yeah, her name’s Tak. She’s another goddamn alien.”

“Dib, are you sure about that? I was talking to her yesterday, I think she’s just British.”

“No, she told me. She’s an Irken, like Zim.”

And like me .

“She offered to help me deal with him for good. I think I’m going to accept it. I don’t know, she might also be able to help with, you know..”

“Alien things?”

“Yeah.”

“Why is there tape on your face?”

“I’ll explain later. Right now, I just want to go home.”

“Good. I have an online tournament in an hour and I don’t want to have to forfeit because of your bad decisions.”

“Bad decisions? Gaz, I was trying to save the planet.”

“And how did that work out for you?”

With my ears melting into the bathroom sink.

“Shut up Gaz.”

The two took their seats in the back of the Professor’s car, and began the drive home. 

“So, children, how was skool today? How did the science project go?”

“It exploded in my face.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, son. You know, in the future, you could alway-”

“No offense, Dad, but I don’t think this is the time for ‘science tips’. Today’s been kind of rough for me.”

“Oh,” the Professor stopped the van at a red light, causing everything in the vehicle to lurch forward. “How so?”

Dib looked out the window, waiting for the light to turn green before saying anything. He didn’t need any of the pedestrians to see.

“Son? Are you okay?”

The car moved forward again, Dib took a deep breath, and turned off his disguise. Membrane kept his eyes on the road, but Gaz seemed to recoil in shock.

“Oh, Dib. What happened?”

“My ears melted off during the explosion. I don’t know how, but now my stupid glasses won’t stay on and I don’t think they’re growing back anytime soon.”

“Come on, Dib,” Membrane replied, “I’m sure you’re exaggerating- Oh.” He stopped talking when he noticed Dib’s reflection in the rearview mirror, and the car came to a screeching halt, thrusting Dib forward from the momentum and nearly choking him on his seatbelt.

“You can’t explain that with ‘real science’, can you? You know, sooner or later you’re going to have to admit that I’m an alien, and you were wrong.”

“Dib, that’s enough.”

“You said you were going to listen to me this time.”

“And I will.. When we get home. This is neither the time nor place for such discussion.” Membrane once again stepped on the gas pedal, and continued the drive home.

“You can’t ignore it forever. You can’t keep pretending it’s not happening when I’m right in front of you- ow, Gaz!”

Gaz punched Dib in the shoulder, taking it upon herself to change the subject of the conversation, “Parent’s Day is on Friday. The Skool wants you to come in and talk about science or something.”

“ Gaz! ”

“What? You weren’t going to tell him.”

“A career day? That sounds wonderful! I would be more than happy to attend!”

Dib covered his face and sank into his seat with dread. As if his day couldn’t get any worse. Gaz deserved to miss her stupid video game tournament for that.

Membrane spent the rest of the drive brainstorming out loud, potential ideas for a science presentation. Dib wasn’t listening. He didn’t want to. He just wanted to get home so he could finally get his father to listen to him. Then maybe, just maybe, this nightmare could start drawing to an end.

Chapter Text

Professor Membrane didn’t know what to think of the past few days. When he’d set out to perfect the human cloning process all those years ago, he never would have expected that it would lead to this. 

What was he expecting? Even he wasn’t entirely sure, but parenting was certainly a lot harder than he initially thought. 

It was all Lucius’s idea. Membrane’s assistant had suggested he spend more time with the children, and he figured being more present in their lives might at the very least curb Dib’s delusions, but since he’d stepped foot in his son’s bedroom, nothing seemed to be going as planned.

He hadn’t even been home for 48 hours before Dib had run away, contracted some kind of strange disease, and nearly died in front of the house. That was terrifying, and Membrane had been genuinely worried he might never see his son again, but now that same son was claiming to be an alien and accusing him of being a bad parent. Dib was, undoubtedly, insane, but as much as Membrane hated to admit it, he was right about the parenting thing.

Maybe if he’d been there for Dib when he was younger, he wouldn’t have grown so distant and resentful. He wouldn’t have nearly gotten himself killed, and he wouldn’t be spouting madness 24/7. But the time for that seemed to have long passed. The best Membrane could do now was try to course-correct, and hopefully make up for the lost time. If Dib would allow it, at least. 

Membrane pulled up to the Skool sidewalk and opened his van’s sliding door. There were other parents there, picking up their kids. 

See, children? Plenty of your classmates drive home as well. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just what good parents do.

‘Good parents’. All he wanted was to try to be a good parent, even if he was twelve years too late. 

He sat there, waiting for a few minutes for his kids to get out. A bell rang, and a swarm of children came pouring out of the building, into their parent’s cars, out onto the streets. But he couldn’t see Dib or Gaz. As more time passed, and the skoolyard cleared, he was eventually able to make out his daughter leaning against a wall by the front entrance, playing a videogame, and waiting for something. Or someone. 

What did he do this time?

Membrane was already fearing the worst. Why did he let Dib take a cannon to skool in the first place? Right now he was probably in detention for launching baked beans or something at some poor, innocent student. Membrane couldn’t imagine the things Dib’s teacher must have had to put up with. Someone had to set him on the right path. It was surely only a matter of time before someone got hurt.

Eventually, Dib exited the building and he and Gaz briefly conversed before walking down to the sidewalk and climbing in the back of the car.

“So, children, how was skool today? How did the science project go?”

“It exploded in my face.”

That news was surprising to Membrane. He’d seen Dib’s project for himself, held it in his own hands. Despite its amateur-ish build quality, it didn’t appear to have any design flaws that would have led to such an outcome. Maybe something had happened internally, like a failed capacitor or a bad power supply.

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, son. You know, in the future, you could alway-”

“No offense, Dad, but I don’t think this is the time for ‘science tips’. Today’s been kind of rough for me.”

“Oh,” Membrane noticed a red stop light and stopped the van. He was mildly disappointed in Dib, but not necessarily surprised. Maybe a part of him had hoped that after their conversation in the garage that morning, his son would have been a bit more receptive. “How so?”

Dib didn’t respond, he just silently stared out the window. Membrane had a feeling there was more on his mind than a failed science fair project. 

I should talk to him. That’s something good parents do, right?

“Son? Are you okay?”

Still no response. He should have expected as much.

The light turned green again and Membrane resumed the drive home. He could have sworn he saw a flashing light in the rearview mirror, but he didn’t think much of it. It was probably just one of the monitors in the back he hadn’t cleared out yet.

“My ears melted off during the explosion. I don’t know how, but now my fucking glasses won’t stay on and I don’t think they’re growing back anytime soon.”

I hope he doesn’t talk to his teacher like that.

If there was any doubt in membrane’s mind that his son was insane, things like that almost always washed it away. Human body parts didn’t just melt off at random. Could one’s ears fall off due to frostbite? Certainly, but Membrane highly doubted the AC units at that skool could reach sub-zero temperatures.

“Come on, Dib,” Membrane replied, “I’m sure you’re exaggerating- Oh.” He caught a glimpse of Dib in the mirror, briefly panicked, and slammed his foot on the brakes. Dib was green, again, most of his hair was gone, and while Membrane was certain his eyes were deceiving him, Dib’s ears were nowhere to be seen.

“You can’t explain that with ‘real science’, can you? You know, sooner or later you’re going to have to admit that I’m an alien, and you were wrong.”

When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

It was a line Membrane had read many years ago, although the exact source eluded him. He liked those words. They brought him comfort when he was confronted with things he couldn’t explain. Even in the most unlikely of scenarios, there was always a rational explanation. Dib was not an alien. There were no aliens on Earth, and if there were, he’d surely be the first to know, especially if his own son was an extraterrestrial being. The doctors at the hospital hadn’t noticed anything unusual either. If there was something truly wrong with Dib, surely the people who’d spent years studying human biology would have noticed. He just had some kind of illness, and it would surely go away on its own. It had to. Any other conclusion would go against the very fundamentals of science.

Science was Membrane’s rock. It kept him grounded when it felt like things were out of his control. It was safe, predictable, and rigid. And he could always fall back on it when things looked bleak. There was a scientific explanation for what was happening to his son, he just didn’t know exactly what it was yet, and Dib’s impatience was only making it harder for him to find it. Maybe he’d have to revisit the frostbite hypothesis.

“Dib, that’s enough.”

“You said you were going to listen to me this time.”

Membrane sighed. He had said that, hadn’t he? Dib was very persistent, and he’d made it clear that he wasn’t going to stop bringing it up anytime soon. Maybe if Membrane acknowledged Dib’s delusions, he would naturally come to the conclusion that he was spouting nonsense. And maybe listening to his son could give the Professor better insight into that large head of his. Maybe it was finally time to give this ‘pretending’ thing a try.

“And I will.. When we get home. This is neither the time nor place for such discussion.” Membrane once again stepped on the gas pedal, and continued the drive home, eyes focused solely on the road.

“You can’t ignore it forever. You can’t keep pretending it’s not happening when I’m right in front of you- ow, Gaz!”

Don’t hit your brother, Gaz.

“Parent’s Day is on Friday. The Skool wants you to come in and talk about science or something.”

“ Gaz! ”

Parent’s day, huh? That might be fun. An opportunity to spend more time with Dib and Gaz, while also teaching science to the children of their skool and finally being able to meet their teachers in person? At the very least, it was a perfect distraction.

“A career day? That sounds wonderful! I would be more than happy to attend!”

Membrane’s mind began to race as he started to brainstorm ideas for a potential science presentation. Should he do a more simple demonstration or go all-out? Biology, chemistry, physics, engineering… So much potential, how could he decide? Maybe he could bring back a squirrel from the lab, or show off their experimental strength serum, or maybe he could finally have a use for those gravity boots. The possibilities were endless.

“Dad. Dad!” Dib interrupted as they pulled into the driveway, “You know, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. There’s plenty of other parents who are too busy and stuff.”

“Nonsense,” Membrane replied as he shut off the engine and got out of the van. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Dib groaned as they got out of the car and headed inside. 

Come on, son. It’s just one day of skool. It’s hardly the end of the world.

Why did he have to be so dramatic about everything?

As they went back towards the house, Dib rushed to the front door and began aggressively jiggling the doorknob. He seemed almost panicked, like he had in the hospital parking lot, and he was muttering to himself. He’d been doing that a lot lately. It was odd behavior, even for Dib. Maybe his mental state was worse than Membrane had previously thought.

Was he really about to do this? Was he really going to indulge in his son’s insanity? He’d tried everything else. All he had left to do was listen.

“Alright, Son. We’re home now. What is it you wanted to show me?”

“Evidence. Follow me.”

The Professor followed Dib to his bedroom, stopping in front of a large corkboard covered in papers and string. Dib dug through a desk drawer, and handed him a folder, which he opened to find several pictures of a strange creature: a green, humanoid, frog-bug thing with large, red eyes, jagged teeth, and a thin, wormlike tongue. It was dressed like Dib’s strange classmate, and had a dome on its back exactly like the blood-filtering machine. They had to be doctored, or staged, like all that supposed ‘evidence’ of bigfeets and sea monsters. Such a thing couldn’t exist in the real world. It wasn't scientifically possible.

“Son, did you edit these yourself?” he inquired, trying not to sound too judgemental, “They look quite impressive.”

“They’re not edited. They’re raw photographs of the alien who lives down the street. You know, the one I’ve been telling you about for the past several months? The one who’s been turning me into a monster like him? Seriously, you don’t even see a little bit of a resemblance?"

He did, actually, and it was making him very uncomfortable.

Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

“And what about this ?” Dib continued, unpinning notes from his conspiracy board, “Alien spaceships, alien robots, alien language.”

He handed the Professor more papers: a drawing of a flying vehicle, a photo of a dog eating a pizza, sticky notes scrawled in odd symbols. Dib couldn’t possibly believe this was conclusive evidence, right? 

“Well, I’d hardly consider a made-up language to be scientific evidence.” 

“It’s not made-up. Zim’s alien DNA’s been screwing with my brain and now it’s the only thing I can write. I’ve already failed a fucking test because of it and I think this stupid PAK is only making it worse.”

“I’m sorry, you did what ?”

Dib fell silent. The things he’d called antennae pulled back like the ears of a scared cat. He’d failed a test at skool? How long had he been hiding it, and how many more failed exams did Membrane not know about? That was the last straw. He could somewhat tolerate everything else, even the disappearance, to an extent, but if this obsession was affecting Dib’s skool work, he had to put a stop to it. Right here; right now.

“Son, I used to think this obsession of yours was mostly harmless, if a bit odd, but if it’s causing you to fail class, I simply can’t allow this to continue.”

“But I’m trying to save the planet!”

“The planet is not in danger, Son, “ Membrane snapped back. He was done trying to be polite. This was serious now. “There are no cryptids, there are no aliens, and even if there were, you certainly aren’t one of them. You’re failing class, you’re putting yourself in danger, and you’re putting your classmates in danger. All for what? An imaginary threat and a preposterous delusion? For the love of Physics, you need to stop this insanity before someone gets killed!”

He noticed Dib’s laptop sitting on the corner of the bed and picked it up. Gaz had mentioned him doing reckless things to impress his online friends. Maybe the internet was the root of the problem. Where else could he have gotten such ridiculous ideas? For all he knew they were only encouraging him. They certainly seemed to be encouraging his use of foul language lately.

“Dad, what are you doing?”

“I’m confiscating this for the time being. I think you’ve had more than enough internet for a while.”

“But I need that to communicate with the Swollen Eyeball Network. I need to keep them updated on Zim. The world needs to know!”

Two mechanical spider legs emerged from Dib’s back and lifted him into the air, meeting Membrane at eye level and grabbing onto the laptop with his own hands; his strangely claw-like hands, and tried to pry it free. Membrane was unyielding – one of the benefits of having mechanical arms was that strong grip – but as he looked into his son’s eyes, those shiny, solid red eyes, a horrible, sinking feeling developed deep in Membrane’s gut: doubt. Dib did look an awful lot like the creature in the ‘photographs’… 

No. It was still impossible. Maybe something had gone wrong with the cloning process that had just been lying dormant until now. And he didn’t know the doctor who’d built Dib’s blood-filtering machine; surely there was a purpose behind the spider legs and flashy holograms, and maybe if he examined it for himself, he could find it. Dib wasn’t an alien, it was all just one giant coincidence. He just had to run more tests to prove it; to Dib, and to himself. 

He took a moment to cool down, get some deep breaths, and calmly make a proposal to his son: “I’m sorry, Dib. If it makes you feel better, we can run a DNA test when we visit the Lab, okay? That should settle this once and for all.” 

The legs snapped back into Dib’s backpack and he stumbled to the ground. Membrane quietly offered to help him up, but Dib refused, brushing some dirt off his jacket as he got back on his feet.

“Give me my laptop back.”

“I can’t do that, son.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m asserting my authority as your parental figure. You can have it back after the Parents’ Day presentation. I’m sure your ‘Swollen Mothball’ friends will do just fine without you.”

Dib paused for a moment to think, weighing his options and anxiously scratching at the tape Membrane was now noticing on his glasses.

“You aren’t going to take any more of my blood, are you?” he asked, his voice wavering,  “Or perform any horrible experiments on me?”

What? Why would he ever think that? Oh no, I’m being too harsh on him again, aren’t I?

The last thing Membrane wanted was for his son to be scared of him. He shouldn’t have raised his voice like that. Now Dib probably hated him even more. 

“No, no, of course not. I’d just need a saliva sample and a strand of hair. Your DNA should be an exact match for mine, so if there’s anything happening at the genetic level, like theoretically ,” Membrane rolled his eyes, “‘an alien virus rearranging your base pairs’, it should be fairly easy to detect.”

“And if there is something wrong, would you be willing to admit you made a mistake and help me get back to normal?”

Membrane refused to even consider that as a possibility.

“We’ll cross that bridge if we get there. Can I see your glasses for a moment?”

Dib paused, unsure. Membrane didn’t blame him. A lot had happened since they got home. He wasn’t giving back the laptop. Good parents punished their children for doing stupid things and he was going to do the same, not to mention the possibility of the internet fueling Dib’s insanity, but he certainly needed to rethink his approach to reconnecting with his son. He’d miserably failed at hearing him out, and simply telling him to stop believing in that nonsense only seemed to be digging a deeper hole. To think just that morning they’d been bonding over their shared love of inventing…

“Why?”

“You don’t want to walk around with tape on your face, do you?”

“No,” Dib sighed, “Not really.”

He peeled the tape off of himself and reluctantly handed over his glasses. Without them, he looked even more like the thing in the pictures. The effect was uncanny.

“I’ll be right back.”

Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

He took the glasses into his own room and fixed an elastic strap to the ends of the frame. It wasn’t much, but hopefully it could help Dib keep them in place until they figured out what was actually wrong with him. It was the least he could do.

One more day, and Membrane could finally bring Dib to the Lab. He could show him all the wonderful innovations he’d been working on, and maybe they could go back to talking about inventions together. One more day, and he could finally make up for all those years of ignoring his son. One more day, and he would have real evidence to disprove Dib’s ‘theories’ once and for all.

All he had to do was wait.

Chapter Text

Dib spent his evening puking his guts out in the bathroom. As if his day couldn’t get any worse, the pork chops Membrane had made for dinner were making him sick. It hadn’t tasted remotely bad, and it hadn’t given him acid burns or anything like that, but there was clearly something in his food that his alien body just couldn’t process, and his immune system was lashing out at him for it. By the time the vomiting stopped, his throat was burning and his entire squeedlyspooch was sore. It wasn’t pleasant – sort of an aching feeling pulsing throughout his chest and abdomen – and it left him exhausted, as he clung to the edge of the bathtub, shivering.

Someone knocked on the door.

“What do you want?” Dib shouted, his voice hoarse from the acid in his throat.

“It’s Gaz. Dad sent me to check in on you.”

“He couldn’t do that himself?”

“He’s worried you’re just going to yell at him.”

Or he’s scared because he’s finally realized I’m not human anymore. 

Dib had seen the way Membrane looked at him (or rather, didn’t). The Professor seemed to be getting more uncomfortable by the second, and Dib was starting to wonder if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“I brought you some food,” Gaz said, handing him a pop-tart and a bag of potato chips. “I don’t know what aliens eat, but you were tearing through this stuff at breakfast, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

“It’s fine, I don’t really know either. Thanks.” Dib ripped open the bag of chips and shoved a few into his mouth. He started to feel better now that he had some food in his body. “Why have you been so nice to me lately?”

“Because, alien or not, you’re still my brother. And it hurts to see you like this.”

“Like what? As a hideous space bug?”

“No, in pain. You’ve been all weird and angry lately, and I’m getting genuinely worried about you.”

“Yeah, but can you blame me? My body isn’t my own anymore, my brain is being hijacked by an alien machine, and I can’t even convince Dad of all this because he’s being so goddamn obtuse about it. I think I have every right to be ‘weird and angry’ right now.”

“He fixed your glasses though, didn’t he? That’s gotta be something .”

Dib tugged at the elastic wrapped around the back of his head. It was progress, sure, but far from the “I’m so sorry. You were right all along. Let me make up for my shitty parenting by helping you return to normal ,” he desperately needed. That piece of rubber wasn’t going to bring his ears back, or recover his lost childhood, or get his laptop out of whatever hyper-secure safe Membrane had locked it up in. He just had to hope that the DNA test would finally break down the Professor’s wall of denial.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

Dib continued to work on the snacks Gaz had brought him. With his pork chop lying in a puddle of acid in the bathtub, this was his dinner now.

“Can I touch your backpack?” Gaz asked.

“What?”

“Your backpack thing. Can I touch it?”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cool alien tech! And Zim wouldn’t let me mess with it back in the hospital. You guys have some neat stuff. I’d happily upload my soul to the alien hivemind if it meant I could have one of those things.”

“Don’t kid yourself. You just want to use the PAK legs for multiplayer.”

“Hey, I am not giving up on the 8-fighter Smash Sisters dream.”

“Well, I’d happily give it to you if I could find a way to take the stupid thing off. I’m sure you’d love the intrusive thoughts and crushing chest pain.”

“That bad, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“So can I touch your backpack?”

“I’m not going to stop you,” Dib sighed.

He winced as Gaz pressed her palm on the PAK’s main port, and his antennae started buzzing like a cell phone on vibrate.

“That’s weird,” Gaz remarked, retracting her hand. “You okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Happy now?”

“Yes. Is your squishyspot or whatever doing better?”

“My squeedlyspooch? Yeah, I guess. Thanks again for the chips.”

“No problem. We should probably go to bed. It’s getting late. And you definitely need some rest.”

Dib sighed, and his antennae started to calm down. Gaz was right.

So they left the bathroom, and Dib went to his room, but he wasn’t going to sleep. Not yet. Tired as he was, he still had things to do.

He went to his desk, took out a fresh note pad, and started to write. If human food was going to be this much of a threat to his health and safety, he’d have to start keeping track of these things. He racked his mind, searching through his memories to recall everything he’d eaten in the past week, and anything he’d seen Zim consume while on Earth.

[ SAFE: chocolate bar, pasta sauce, potato chips, toaster pastries, candy stick, cheese sandwich, waffles. DANGER: skool lunch, pork, tap water, barbecue sauce, bacon?]

It was far from a complete list, but it was a good start.

Dib set the note pad aside and moved on to add more information to the corkboard. Everything he’d learned from Tak – more info on Zim’s criminal record, Irken trials and execution, Earth supposedly not being on the Empire’s hit list – a few notes about the PAK, and a single, tiny post-it with Zim’s name on it, stuck in a corner far away from the spider web of red string and push pins.

“ TAP-TAP-TAP”

There was a noise coming from the window.

Zim, I swear to god.

This wasn’t the time for Zim to make another late-night visit. 

But it wasn't Zim. It was the cat, the same one from the night before, scratching at the window. This time, as he approached it, it didn’t flee. It stared at him, and kept nudging against the glass with its head. Dib tapped back. The cat tilted its head.

“Oh, do you want to come inside?”

The cat nodded. Dib opened the window, and it zipped into his room and onto his bed, before stopping to take in its surroundings. It shot him a look as if to say “Do you actually live in this shithole?”.

“What? What do you want from me?”

The cat rolled its eyes. One flash of light later, and there was a small robot on Dib’s bed. It kind of looked like Gir, if Gir had a giant claw arm and was covered in armor. What did that guy on Irk call them? SIR Units? Was this another SIR Unit? This one was very unlike Gir. It was silent, and its movements were quick and deliberate, like it was on a mission.

Like it was on a mission .

“Are you Tak’s robot?” he asked.

It nodded.

“What, do you talk? Do you have a name? What are you doing at my house?”

The robot’s head opened and a large screen came out, held precariously in front of its face by the end of a thin, mechanical arm. 

[INCOMING CALL FROM TAK]

A video feed of Tak in her home base flickered onto the screen

“Dib? Are you there?” She tapped on her camera lens, “Is this thing working?”

“Yeah, yeah, I can hear you. And see you. How did you find my house, Tak?”

“I’ve been sending Mimi out on reconnaissance duty.”

“Mimi?”

“The SIR Unit,” Tak replied bluntly. Dib could see Mimi waving from behind the screen. It was a stiff, mechanical wave. “Anyway, you weren’t that hard to find. There really aren’t a lot of other Irkens out here.”

Right, Irken . Dib still wasn’t quite used to being called that. It wasn’t technically wrong, but it didn’t feel right either, and he hoped it wasn’t something he’d have to adjust to.

“We found Zim’s base too, it’s rather pathetic, isn’t it? I know humans are stupid, but I am absolutely baffled as to how that monstrosity hasn’t gotten him caught yet.” 

“Why are you here, Tak?”

“I wanted to see if you’d made up your mind about Zim. I’ve been formulating a plan and I need to know if you’re in or not before we go any further.”

“I guess. Is there any chance you’ll reconsider the whole ‘public execution’ thing.”

“I thought you wanted him gone.”

“Well, yes, but not like that . I was hoping I could at least hold on to his PAK for study. Having a body to show Mysterious Mysteries couldn’t hurt either.”

Dib wasn’t going to tell Tak about his conflicting feelings towards Zim, not when he didn’t understand them himself. He needed answers, and he couldn’t get them if Zim was on another planet having his PAK wiped.

“I’ll think about it. Do you know where the Deelishus Weenie HQ is?”

“Not really? Why are you asking?”

“It’s where I’ve set up my base of operation. Do you have a SIR Unit I can send the coordinates to?”

“No?”

“Right, right. Sorry, I forgot you used to be human. Hmmm… Can I trust you to hold onto Mimi for the night? She can show you the way back in the morning.”

“She’s not going to go rifling through my things is she?”

“Of course not. I guarantee you, I have absolutely no interest in anything you have in that human house.”

Dib saw that weird flash again. He still didn’t know what it was, but it was definitely Tak’s doing.

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That light.”

“What light?”

Suspicious.

She was hiding something.

“Do you not trust me?” Tak asked, feigning ignorance.

“Not entirely. And I don’t think I want that thing wandering around my house while I’m asleep.” There was too much sensitive tech in the house. Too many secrets Membrane didn’t even trust Dib with. Secrets that could give the Irkens the key to conquering the planet. He still wasn’t sure if Tak was telling the truth about her plans for Earth, and keeping an alien robot around was a massive security risk. “Can’t you just beam the directions into my PAK or something?”

“PAKs don’t work like that.”

“Well, how the fuck am I supposed to know that? You know what? How about we skip the alien shit and you just meet me here?”

“Fine. Does four o’clock work for you?”

“Does it have to be that early?”

“We’ve got a lot of stuff to go over before skool starts.”

Dib groaned at the thought of another early morning secret alien meeting. Last time he’d done that, Zim had dragged him into outer space and look where that got him. But on the other hand, Membrane definitely wasn’t in the mood to let him go downtown without supervision, and sneaking out before the sun went up was going to be his only option. 

“Fine, but you have a lot of explaining to do when you get here. You want my help dealing with Zim? Then I’m going to want some information in return. Do we have a deal?”

Tak paused to think for a moment, 

“Yes, Dib, I believe we do. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Without warning, the screen collapsed and snapped back into Mimi, who fell backwards onto the sheets. She sat up and cocked her head at Dib, as if quietly begging him to let her stay the night.

“I’m sorry, I can’t keep you here. My dad would kill me, you know?”

Dib gingerly picked up Mimi and carried her back to the window, mildly worried that she’d use that giant claw of hers to tear his fingers to shreds, but she remained still, almost eerily so. 

He dropped her outside and locked the window. Watching to make double sure the SIR Unit wasn’t going to just linger all night. Thankfully, she quickly dashed off into the darkness.

Before turning off the lights, Dib reset his alarm clock and added a new note to the board, [Lights -> TAK?] . Then, exhausted, he flopped onto the bed and faceplanted into the pillows. He decided to sleep in his clothes tonight. It just wasn’t worth it.

Chapter Text

In his dreams, Dib found himself trapped in a glass box, almost like a display case, surrounded by a white void, with an almost blinding light shining down on him. 

This was fine. Zim had caught him in worse traps before. He could escape.

He started by kicking the glass. It briefly glowed pink, and his shoe left a faint smudge, but the wall was unmoving. He tried throwing his whole body against it, only to get the same results, and a bruised shoulder, and a weird dizziness. His body temperature started to rise and it felt like the walls were closing in on him.

“Zim, what the fuck is this? Let me out of here right now!” he shouted into his empty surroundings. 

No response, not even an echo.

Dib’s heart started to race. He really was trapped here. What was this place? What did Zim have to gain from keeping him here?

The lights, the heat, the deafening silence: it was too much, it was overwhelming.

“Zim. this isn’t funny!” he screamed, pounding on the walls of his glass prison.

It wasn’t working. Cornered, and out of options, he sent out a PAK leg to try and pry open the ceiling, and suddenly a beam of pure energy fired out of his PAK, phasing through the box and disappearing into the light. 

What the hell was that?

“I was wondering how long it would take for you to try that,” a distorted voice echoed from Dib’s surroundings. It wasn’t Zim’s, it wasn’t Tak’s, and it wasn’t the Professor's, but it still sounded eerily familiar.

“Who are you?” Dib called out, “What’s the meaning of this?”

“It’s quite simple, really. I’m a concerned party containing an alien threat. Can’t have you running around trying to destroy the Earth now, can we?”

“I am not a threat! I’m trying to protect the Earth. Zim’s the real threat. I’ll tell you everything I know about him. Just please, let me out of here!”

“Keep telling yourself that, Dib. We both know you’re something far more dangerous.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I can see you slipping further away by the  minute. By my estimate it’s only a matter of time before you snap and turn on humanity. I can’t let that happen, Dib.”

“That’s not going to happen. I don’t want any part in that!”

“Are you sure? Because it seems to me that you’re just another one of them ”

Dib looked down to see that his t-shirt had been replaced by a blue version of Zim’s tunic. He chirped out of horror, and the sound echoed throughout the glass container. He slapped his hands over his mouth. It was a shrill, piercing noise unlike anything he’d ever vocalized before.

Those words continued to echo in his mind, “You’re just another one of them ,” over and over again, louder and louder, faster and faster until everything became a blur of light and sound, and it all faded to white.

[HOW IS HE STILL RESISTING IRKEN CONTROL? IF HE’S ANYTHING LIKE THE PROJECT INFILTRATOR SUBJECTS HE SHOULD HAVE FULLY ASSIMILATED BY NOW]

[IT’S THAT BLANK PAK. ZIM’S SPAGHETTI CODE IS INTERFERING WITH THE NEURAL INTERFACE]

[WHAT WAS IT THEY STOLE FROM THE ARCHIVES AGAIN?]

[THE PROJECT INFILTRATOR REPORTS, I BELIEVE]

[ZIM’S PLANNING SOMETHING. WHATEVER IT IS, WE NEED TO TAKE ACTION TO STOP IT, STARTING WITH PATCHING DIB MEMBRANE’S PAK. THEY’RE BOTH TOO DANGEROUS TO BE LEFT UNCHECKED]

[CAN WE EVEN DO THAT FROM SUCH A DISTANCE? SHOULD WE APPOINT SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT INSTEAD? REPORTS INDICATE THAT SERVICE DRONE TAK IS ON EARTH AS WELL.]

[WE CANNOT AFFORD THE RISK. HE WAS ABLE TO INTERFACE WITH US DIRECTLY, WAS HE NOT? IT CAN’T HURT TO TRY]

|

||

re-encoding sequence initiating…

Name: [DIB MEMBRANE]

Class: [ Human SOLDIER]

encoding sequence complete

applying software patch… 

update complete

initializing system restart in 

3…

2..

1.

||

|

Dib awoke with a sudden jolt, with a strange energy coursing through his veins, and a powerful current surging through his PAK. He squinted at his clock: 10pm. 

He pulled the sheets back over his shoulder, closed his eyes, and tried to go back to sleep. A minute passed, then five, then an hour, but sleep never came. The smallest things; the sheets catching on his feet, the humming of his PAK, the hair that had accumulated on his pillow rubbing against his face. Every tiny stimulus dragged him further and further from the rest he so desperately desired, and his mind kept racing as he grappled with the dream he’d just had.

I don’t want to take over the Earth. Why would I ever do that? Why would I even think of doing that? I’m not really too far gone, am I? Is there no place for me on Earth? Would I be better off just giving up and defecting to the Empire?

He didn’t seriously consider that last thought. He wouldn’t let himself. He would rather have died than made the conscious choice to abandon Earth. Not after pouring so much of his life into acting as its sole protector, not when he was on the cusp of getting his dad to finally believe.

But the thought still lingered.

It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

Dib gave up on sleeping after a couple of hours. Try as he might, he just couldn’t. He was simultaneously too tired to sleep and too energized to stay awake, and it felt miserable.

Lying there in the darkness for so long had also taught him that he apparently had night vision. After a while, a faint, magenta outline developed around everything in his room. The effect was surreal, and it felt more like he was in a computer simulation than his own bedroom. It was still there when he removed his glasses, and it was still there when he rubbed his eyes. It only went away when he got out of bed and turned on the lights.

He couldn’t just sit in the darkness and let his mind wander. There were too many thoughts rushing through his head, some of which didn’t even feel like his own. Something had happened, he didn’t know what, but he felt.. different. He felt stronger, keener, enhanced , somehow. It wasn’t right. It felt wrong , and it just made his insomnia worse.

With sleep no longer an option, he turned to his research to keep his mind busy. He sent out a couple of PAK legs to retrieve the spell books from his closet. It was completely seamless, he barely even had to think about it. He knew the chances of actually finding something useful were slim, but he was becoming desperate and impatient. He wasn’t going back to Zim, Membrane wouldn’t be of any help until he stopped being so ignorant, and he wasn’t even sure if he could trust Tak yet, so for now, he had to take matters into his own hands. At this rate, it didn’t even have to be a complete fix. He just needed something to stall the process so he could hold on to some piece of his humanity. Hell, he would have been happy if he could just regrow his hair, but pouring over several volumes of notes turned up nothing even remotely helpful.

There was a tiny voice in the back of Dib’s head, the same one that had suggested he betray Earth, telling him that he was better off this way, that if he just gave up and accepted his fate, he could rise above those puny humans and finally do something worthwhile with his life. It made a compelling argument, and as much as Dib hated to admit it, for a split second, he actually considered it.

Periodically, he went back to check his alarm clock. The hours were ticking away slowly, and not even his vast collection of research could keep him occupied for that long, and he only became more bored and impatient as he inched closer to 4 am. His boredom led him to finding creative ways to pass the time. One of the first things he did was try to pick up something with his tongue. For research, of course. He knew Irken tongues were flexible and likely had prehensile capabilities, but that wasn’t the kind of information he was going to get just by watching Tak and Zim, and frankly, he was becoming curious about the limits of his altered body.

Who knows? Maybe it’ll be useful for something in the future.

It definitely wouldn’t hurt to try. He grabbed a pencil from his desk: a mechanical one with a rubbery grip, something that would be less likely to slip onto the floor if he couldn’t hold tight enough. He felt slightly foolish holding it in front of his face, but if he was going to do this, it was far preferable to licking dust off the desk. The act itself was just as awkward. He didn’t realize how long his tongue actually was until he wrapped it around the cold, plastic writing implement. Controlling it wasn’t nearly as difficult as he expected either, at least compared to the PAK legs. He just kind of pressed it against the pencil and the rest kind of followed from there. Letting go with his hand, he was able to hold onto it for a few seconds before it slid away, out of his slippery, earthworm-like appendage. 

Conclusion: it was an interesting experiment, but not something he wanted to do again.

Next, Dib turned to his claws. Another thing he wouldn’t normally be able to collect data on, since every other Irken he’d met just wore gloves. They were short, thick, and curved, like those of a lizard; more an extension of his fingers than a protective layer like human nails. He still wasn’t sure how or when his hands had gotten so warped. During the trip to space? While he was dying in the hospital? He knew they weren’t terribly sharp, seeing as he hadn’t injured himself yet, but they didn’t seem especially dull either. What kind of damage were they capable of? Of course, he’d never seen an Irken use them for combat before, but surely they had these things for some reason. Maybe in some distant past they used them for hunting or self-defense. Why did they all wear gloves anyway? 

He examined his antennae for a bit. They no longer hurt to the touch, seemingly less sensitive now that they were fully-developed, although he still felt a tingling sensation running them through his fingers. They’d stopped growing, but they were still long enough to pull in front of his face to get a better look at them. The tips had a rougher texture, almost like velcro. That part did hurt a little, and he could have sworn he smelled something when he pinched them, something that smelled like dirty socks. Only for a second, though. It dissipated the moment he let go. It was a different kind of smell though. Rather than passing through his nose, it felt like it was being beamed directly into his brain. Were there scent receptors in there? Earth bugs sometimes smelled with their antennae, so it wasn’t entirely out of the question. This required further testing.

Dib dug under his bed until he found his candle stash, left over from the last time he’d tried summoning spirits. (It didn’t end well. The ghost had somehow managed to steal his pants before disappearing back into the night.) They were scented: pumpkin spice. A perfect implement for testing his hypothesis. He removed the lid from one candle and placed it on his desk, before crouching in front of it, pinching his nose, and holding one antenna close to the jar. Sure enough, he was nearly blown back by the overpowering autumnal fragrance. Thankfully, unplugging his nose seemed to lessen the effect. 

Dib checked his clock again. 3:50. It was finally time. Careful not to wake the rest of his family, he quietly opened his door, threw up his hologram, and sneaked down the hall on the very tips of his toes. This ‘grounding’ didn’t mean anything if he could leave without Membrane knowing.

It felt too easy. 

And it was.

The moment he reached out to turn the front doorknob, the doorframe began to glow a flashing red and an alarm started to blare, as a green laser blanket materialized over the door, burning his fingers as he quickly pulled his hand away. Another door down the hall slammed open, and Membrane rushed out of his own room to see what the commotion was, dressed in his pajama pants and an old t-shirt, fumbling to put his glasses on in the flashing lights.

“Son, is that you? What are you doing? I thought I told you no more sneaking out!”

He pressed some kind of button on his forearm and the alarm shut off. Aside from the robot hands, he really was just like a normal guy, stumbling around in the dark. After he finally put his glasses on, Membrane paused to stare at Dib for a moment. What was it this time?

“Is that the, uh, hologram again?”

The Professor was finally starting to catch on, though he sounded unsure of himself. That was a good thing, at least, one step closer to acknowledging the truth.

“Yes,” Dib replied, “I’m going to visit a friend.”

“Is this the same friend you ran off with over the weekend?” The short-lived small talk was over, and the Professor’s voice returned to that stern tone Dib was all too familiar with.

“No, it’s someone else. We’re working on a project together.”

“I don’t care, Dib. I’m not letting you wander outside at,” Membrane checked his watch, “4am? Seriously?”

“I couldn’t sleep. I’ll be back before skool starts, I promise.”

“Do you even know if this friend is awake yet?”

“I have a feeling she’ll understand.”

“She?” Membrane’s voice once again shifted to convey a sense of deep concern and confusion. “Dib, do we, uh, need to have a talk?”

Under his human cloak, Dib’s antennae shot straight up. Why was that Membrane’s first assumption? This was not a date. Dib had known Tak for less than a day, and he didn’t even like girls, or anyone, really. It somehow would have been less embarrassing for both of them if he actually was sneaking out for some romantic endeavor. “I-I-It’s not like that, I swear. Her name is Tak. She’s just a classmate. She’s new in town and we’re meeting to work on an assignment.”

He wasn’t going to tell his dad that Tak was an alien. Not yet. Not until he admitted that aliens existed in the first place. Not until he knew for sure whether or not she was dangerous.

“Dib, I don’t even know what to think about you anymore, but I’m not letting you run away with some girl in the middle of the night.”

Suddenly, a loud wooshing noise passed through the walls, like the sound of an airplane passing overhead, except right there in front of the house.

“What was that?” asked Membrane.

Dib just shrugged. He didn’t know what that noise was either, although he had a hunch it was Tak-related.

A moment later, and someone knocked on the door.

Dib glanced up at his father.

So uh, am I just supposed to stand here, or should I open it?

Membrane sighed as he pressed a few more buttons on his wrist and deactivated the lasers. The mysterious guest knocked again, and this time, Dib was able to safely open the door, but to his surprise, it wasn’t Tak. At least, it didn’t look like her. Standing on the front porch was a tall woman with long, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a black suit and sunglasses, with an earpiece in her right ear. Was she some kind of security guard? Was this just a more advanced disguise from Tak? Was she a robot like Zim’s ‘parents’? Wait, was she a government agent? Had Dib’s secret leaked into the outside world? Was the military here to take him away for experimentation? Even though the hologram concealed his alien nature, he couldn’t ignore the possibility, and he found himself retreating behind his father for protection. 

He didn’t entirely understand what drove him to take shelter behind the Professor other than survival instinct, and Membrane was visibly confused by his son’s sudden display of vulnerability.

“Is this the Membrane household?” the visitor asked. Her voice was incredibly monotone. Maybe she really was a robot. If she was, she was certainly a more realistic model than Zim’s ‘parents’.

“Well, um, yes,” Membrane replied, somewhat blindsided by the fact he was underdressed and unprepared to receive guests. “Did something go wrong at the labs? Is this an inquiry about my research or the television program?”

“I’m here on behalf of Stephen Dee. I was told to retrieve your son so that he can work on a class project with the boss’s daughter.”

Okay, so she was a security guard. Tak had mentioned her ‘dad’ was a big deal, but bodyguard big deal? What was the deal with that anyway? Did she replace the dude with a robot? Had she somehow taken the place of an actual kid? He’d have to ask about that when they got to her place. That was the kind of information he needed to know if he intended to form a proper alliance with her.

“When did Steve have a kid?” Membrane asked. Did he know that guy? Dib guessed the Deelishus Weenie corporation had probably sponsored one of the Professor’s projects.

“Tak was adopted just last week,” the bodyguard answered.

“I see.. Uh, Dib, say hi to Tak’s father for me. Tell him thank you for the much-needed biomaterial.”

“Yeah, sure dad. Whatever.” Now that he knew his life wasn’t in danger, Dib just wanted to get out of the house so he could finally work on the plan with Tak, and maybe find out what her deal was as well.

“Right this way, sir.” The guard stepped aside and gestured towards a large aircraft parked in the street in front of his house. A huge jet covered in Deelishus Weenie logos. Right, Tak’s dad owned the company. “Just last week.” Dib had to admit, no matter how she did it, securing a position like that in such a short time on the planet was seriously impressive. After all, Zim had been on Earth for months by then and he’d barely taken over a burrito restaurant. 

The inside of the plane was spacious, but it didn’t appear any more alien than the Professor’s van. It was a bit like a giant limousine, with cushioned seats lining the walls, color-changing lights in the ceiling, and a tv with large speakers built into the back wall. Tak was sitting by a window, Mimi in lap, both disguised. Was this her ship? She was an Irken, like Zim, with all that advanced alien technology. Surely she had access to a less conspicuous mode of transportation than a flashy private jet.

“Thank you, Zoe,” she said to the guard, “You may go now.” The weird light flashed again, and the guard closed the door behind Dib. He had to ask about that. Was it some kind of hypnosis? Was Zoe really a robot she was controlling remotely? 

“Come in. Have a seat,” Tak motioned for Dib to join her, “You’ll want to be buckled in during takeoff.”

“Takeoff? - WHOAH!”

Before Dib even had the chance to sit down, the jet lurched forward with such incredible force and speed that he was practically thrown against the screen in the back, cracking it.

“Do all humans have such awful reaction time?” Tak asked playfully. “Don’t worry about the screen, it’s not mine to deal with. We should be there in a minute, we can talk then. Might as well make yourself comfortable in the meantime.” 

Chapter Text

Dib did not like Tak’s jet. When he flew in Zim’s ship, it was cramped, sure, but it was comfortable. Even when they were soaring through the cosmos at beyond light speed, it never felt like it on the inside. He wasn’t sure if it was some kind of alien stabilization technology, but beyond the artificial gravity, he’d felt no external forces while riding in Zim’s tiny spacecraft. In that moment, however, he felt nothing but force as his entire body continued to be pressed against a giant tv screen, despite the jet going a mere fraction of the Voot’s top speed (that he knew of, at least). 

“Was this really necessary?” he shouted over the sounds of the jet engines outside.

“Since I’m trying to maintain my cover, yes,” Tak responded. “Trust me, I would have much rather taken the Spittle Runner, but humans seem to lose their marbles when they see unknown objects in the sky. Unlike our good friend, Zim, I prefer not to draw that kind of attention to myself.”

“So, is this your dad’s, then?”

“Yes. It’s a bit primitive, but no one questions it, so I’m making-do.”

Primitive? This thing? I guess she is more used to flying those Irken spaceships around.

“What’s the deal with him anyway? Your ‘dad’, I mean. I’ve kind of been wondering since you mentioned him. Is he an android? A hologram? Is he even still alive? How did you manage to worm your way into all this stuff when you’ve only been here a few days?”

Tak stopped to think about that. Petting Mimi as she contemplated whether or not to tell Dib her secret. “Are you absolutely sure you want to know?” The flashing light appeared one more time, and Dib couldn’t take it anymore. Tak was trying to do something to him, and he had to know what the deal was with that thing. 

“Yes! And what the fuck is up with that stupid flash thingy? Every time I talk to you there’s this weird blinking light that shows up in the corner of your eye. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Fine! You caught me,” Tak relented as she deactivated her disguise and pointed to the device on her temple. “This is a mind control device. I can use it to wipe people’s memories and make them obey my commands. To answer your first question, that’s how I’ve maintained my cover. I’ve been brainwashing Mr Dee and his staff.”

So that guard lady was being brainwashed? Wait a second…

“Before you ask, no I haven’t been trying to control you.” Tak answered Dib’s question before he even had the chance to ask. Was she some kind of mind reader as well? “Not intentionally, at least.” She tapped on the device and continued: “This thing’s wired directly to my brain, so it’s kind of a reflex when I’m talking to people I don’t know. Besides, even if I was trying to mess with you, it wouldn’t work. It only affects feeble-minded humans, and since you’re neither of those, I couldn’t brainwash you even if I wanted to.”

Dib wasn’t entirely sure what to think of that revelation. Even if the device had no effect on him, she had still tried to mind control him. If he couldn’t even trust her with that, how was he supposed to believe that she wouldn’t use him to destroy the planet? However, the little voice in his head persisted. “Give her a chance,” it said, “Hear her out. Take the time to listen to someone of your own kind.” 

Shut up! She is not ‘my own kind’, Dib wanted to say, but doing so would have been pointless against his own thoughts. No matter what he did, it was just going to keep looping in his mind, drowning out everything else until he gave in, practically freezing him in place as he struggled to resist the PAK’s creeping control over his psyche.

But he couldn’t keep it up. It was too overwhelming.

So he gave in.

It’s okay, he told himself. We’re just going to take down Zim. I’ll get him to make me human again, and then we’ll get rid of him once and for all. We’ll just take him out of the picture and the Empire will be saved……wait… 

“You still don’t believe me?” Tak asked, noticing his sudden silence and distracting him from his derailed train of thought. “Fine. I’ll prove it. Smack yourself in the face.” Her device emitted that same light one final time. “See? Nothing.”

Dib could confirm, he did not feel compelled to smack himself in the face. He didn’t know what he was thinking before. Of course he could trust her. If Zim was wanted by the Empire, why would they send someone to help him destroy the planet? 

The jet suddenly came to a screeching halt, thrusting Dib forward and face-first onto the soft, carpeted floor. Tak reactivated her disguise, got out of her seat, and picked him up with one of her own PAK legs. 

“We can keep talking later,” she said, “but I’d suggest you stay quiet until we get downstairs. I don’t want anyone to overhear us.”

Dib quietly nodded before she dropped him back on his feet. 

The door opened from the outside and the bodyguard, Zoe, poked her head in to inform the Irkens of their arrival. The first thing Dib noticed, before even stepping out, was the overwhelming stench of hot dogs. As he nervously followed Tak into the base, he quickly realized why: this was an active Deelishious Weenie production facility, full of meat grinders, packaging machines, and several actual, human workers, going about their mundane, miserable days, with seemingly no idea of the alien horrors that lay beneath them.

As the two crossed the factory floor, a few employees excitedly greeted them, and Dib couldn’t help but wonder how many of them were brainwashed and how many of them were just oblivious.

They entered an elevator on the far side of the room and Tak pressed her hand on a biometric scanner. The doors slammed shut and Dib couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of deja-vu as the elevator plummeted deep underground, and into the true base beneath.

Zim’s hideout was already impressive by human standards, but Tak’s home made his look like a claustrophobic stick fort in comparison. It was a great, underground fortress, with lava tubes lining the walls and colorful pipes criss-crossing through the space above. Like Zim’s base, a massive computer with several screens and a series of control panels was placed against one wall.

It was beautiful.

“I’m guessing this is your first time in an Irken base?”

“Not really,” Dib admitted. “I’ve been to Zim’s house plenty of times.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Because he’s ‘not a real invader’ or whatever?”

“Exactly. Good to see you’re catching on.” Tak deactivated her disguise, and Mimi followed suit. “You can turn yours off too, if you want. No one’s going to see us down here.” 

And Dib almost did. 

Something about being there, with Tak, in this tiny pocket of the Irken Empire made him feel.. relaxed, almost. This was a safe space, where he wouldn’t have to worry about being mocked by his classmates, dismissed by his father, or caught by a fellow paranormal investigator. But at the same time, without the security of his own room, he couldn’t help but feel exposed and vulnerable. He didn’t want to look at the monster he’d become, and he didn’t want Tak to see him that way either. Even if she was another Irken, and even if she’d already seen what he looked like under the illusion, Dib just couldn’t allow himself to turn it off in her presence. That hologram was all he had left of his steadily dwindling humanity – one of the few traces left of his true self – and he was going to hold onto it as long as he possibly could. 

“I’m fine,” he asserted. “I like it this way.”

“Alright then, suit yourself,” Tak walked over to her computer and started typing something. “If you want to keep pretending to be an inferior lifeform so badly, I’m not going to stop you.”

Dib’s antenna twitched. He was already getting really sick of Tak’s condescending remarks. Humans could be annoying, sure, and he knew all too well that they weren’t the smartest things in the universe, but these felt like personal attacks, cutting far deeper than any name Zim had ever called him. It was the ‘pretending’ line that really dug into him. He’d been a human for more than twelve, fucking years, six of which he had dedicated specifically to protecting it from creatures like her. She had no right to show up unannounced and imply that those twelve years were just part of some facade. Tak was the one pretending, Zim was pretending, but Dib was not. He was only trying to hold on to the life he’d lived in those twelve years and the identity he’d built upon it.

And… he was doing so by concealing his appearance under an alien cloaking technology and trying to ignore his own thoughts.

Fuck. 

Maybe he really was pretending. He didn’t want Tak to be right though. Even if he was, he wasn’t going to admit it to her. She didn’t deserve the satisfaction of knowing her little mind games were actually working on him.

“First of all, I don’t think an alien who’s allergic to water balloons has the right to be calling humans ‘inferior lifeforms’. Second, I’m not pretending. I don’t know if you can wrap your head around this concept, but I do not want to be an Irken, and I do not like being an Irken, okay? If we’re going to be working together, I’d appreciate it if you stopped insinuating that my feelings make me inferior in some way. Now, did you bring me here for an actual reason, or are you just going to keep insulting me?”

“Don’t worry your freakishly large head about that. I was just about to get to it.”

“What did I literally just say?” Dib grumbled.

“It’s not an insult if it’s true.” Tak smiled as she sorted through some computer files. She didn’t even care. Seriously, were all Irkens this condescending and mean? At least Zim tried to be nice, in his own weird, fake way. 

“As for why I brought you here,” Tak continued, “you're probably well-aware that Zim is currently wanted by the Empire for suspected defectiveness.”

“I’m still not entirely sure what that means, but yeah, Zim’s a defective traitor or whatever, I got that.”

“Anyway, once the order went out, I traced his signal back to this nowhere planet so I could turn him in for the reward. I’ve spent the past few days gathering intel about him from our classmates.That’s why I reached out to you initially. I was going to just pick your mind for information like the rest of the skoolchildren, but then I discovered your little secret, and last night I received this transmission.” Tak opened a file on her computer and pulled up some kind of message. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about it, would you?”

Prominently featured at the top of the page was a photograph. A photograph of Zim and Dib fleeing the exploding archival building back on Irk. The accompanying text read:

[DANGEROUS TRAITOR ZIM WAS RECENTLY SPOTTED ON IRK. HE HAS STOLEN CLASSIFIED DOCUMENTS AND CAUSED LARGE AMOUNTS OF PROPERTY DESTRUCTION, AND IT IS BELIEVED HE HAD HELP. ANY INFORMATION ABOUT HIS WHEREABOUTS OR THE LOCATION OF THE STOLEN DOCUMENTS SHOULD BE REPORTED TO THE TALLESTS IMMEDIATELY]

Dib couldn’t help but stare at the photograph, at the picture of him in his Irken disguise. It looked so different from his actual appearance, yet so uncomfortably familiar. He was almost jealous of his past self. Fake-Irken Dib arguably looked more like his human self than he did, or at least fake-Irken Dib still had something resembling his cowlick. Dib hadn’t looked in the mirror since the cafeteria incident, but he knew his hair was pretty much gone now, and for as annoying as his cowlick could be at times, it was just as much a part of his identity as his love of the paranormal. Why couldn’t his actual antennae be shaped like that? At least then he might have still looked like himself and not just another Irken runt. Well, an Irken runt with a human nose and some extra fingers, but Dib had a sinking feeling he’d be kissing those goodbye if he didn’t find a cure soon.

But maybe that difference was a good thing when his face was right next to Zim’s in a memo proclaiming them both to be traitors, broadcasted to everyone in the Irken Empire.

Dib started to sweat. Tak had to know. Why else would she be showing him this? Was she going to turn him over for execution as well? And what about that librarian he’d talked to back on Irk? He’d told that guy all about Earth. As far as he knew the Empire already had all the information they needed to hunt him down with the entire armada.

Dib started to hyperventilate. He didn’t want to be a space criminal, he didn’t want to die as an Irken, and that ever-present alien programming kept telling him he should be ashamed for accomplice-ing such an action against the Empire.

Tak zoomed-in on the photo and pointed at the tiny, blue-eyed Irken in Zim’s PAK leg.

“That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but it’s not what it looks like!” Dib blurted out. “Zim tricked me! I didn’t even want to leave Earth but he took away my hologram and he said that whatever’s in that document could possibly make me human again. I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear!”

“Relax, monkeybrains, I’m not going to turn you in. This is why I brought you here. If you help me catch Zim and retrieve those stolen files, I know people who can get you a full pardon.” Tak looked up at the screen, and then back at Dib. “I’m guessing that data pod is the reason you’re so hesitant about eliminating Zim? You think he can still make you human again?”

Dib actually had to think about that for a moment. He couldn’t quite pin down what exactly it was that sparked his sudden sympathy towards his archnemesis, and he hadn’t been able to since Tak had first proposed the idea of execution. That might have been part of it, although he still didn’t want to go running back to Zim for help after the whole PAK thing. Not that Zim would ever want him back after he’d tried to kill him anyways. But there was something else, something he couldn’t categorize. Pity? Some twisted kind of attachment? Maybe it was the fact that Zim had legitimately saved his life and he felt like he needed to return the favor. Or maybe it was another reprogramming attempt from the PAK.

It was all stupid, of course. Zim had saved Dib’s life, but he was also the reason his life was in danger, as part of some scheme to get Dib to join him in his conquest of Earth. Zim was still a threat, and the Irkens wanted him out of the picture too. There was no logical reason to be feeling this way, and he couldn't let himself give in. 

But he couldn’t correct Tak on the matter, because she was probably right, to some degree, and he had no hope of explaining the messed-up emotions he couldn’t even understand himself, so he quietly nodded.

“In that case,” Tak answered, “I think this plan will work out well for the both of us. What I want you to do is befriend Zim. Gain his trust. Trick him into giving you the data orb. Once we have that, we’ll start working on a strategy to actually contain him.”

I’m sorry, what?