Kila -

Nowhere Man story extras journal! Yaaay!

Chapter 1

Songs:

Poison: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-1c14Z0YUTU (it says 'Alice' but that is definitely NOT A WOMAN)

99 Luftballons: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EytDNLP1ulY

Remember this one, it'll become a bit of a theme.

References:

Dib directed a long-suffering look at the sky. "That joke got old in first grade."
"Well, yeah, it got old for you."

Actually a homage to something my mom wrote... that hasn't been published... erm...

His tongue was tingling and felt oddly warm and his belly still felt ill-prone.

GUESS.

"Stop trying to fade me!" Zim screeched, his claws working in midair.

THESE PEOPLES TRY TO FADE ME! C-C-CALL ME ON MY CELL PHONE!

"I am ZIM! I can do this. I will do it nine times if necessary!"

I can do it nine times.

Minimoose was sitting on the couch, watching the Sonnfield. Or the... Shawnfold. Something like that.

Seinfeld.

"DELETE THAT CRAP!" Zim snapped without bothering to read the subject.
The message disappeared.
"Crap deleted," the computer said boredly.

The third H*R reference in this chapter.

Deleted scenes:

In the long-ago first draft of this story, Dib was not only mutating, but also a kind of Irken lycanthrope. Observe.

There was a light scratching on the door. Zim sat up, his antennae twitching. "What was that?"
GIR shrugged.
There it was again, scratching. Zim got to his feet, scowling, and donned his wig and contacts. He headed to the door and pressed his hand to the small scanning pad just beside the doorframe. The door became transparent. Nothing was there.
Zim scowled and took his hand off the pad. He was heading back to the couch when there was the scratching again.
He turned, frowning, and went back to the door and opened it a crack, peering out at... nothing. He shook his head, frowning, and closed the door, waiting there with his hand on the handle.
And there was the scratching noise again. Zim threw the door open this time, calling- "SHOW YOURSELF!"
Nothing.
Baring sharp, jagged teeth, Zim took a step forward onto the doorstep... and a gigantic hand clamped down around his neck.
He screamed. No one came, even as he continued screaming and screaming...

Chapter 2

Songs:

What Is This Feeling: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hLZ3-ODo_K8

References:

A few minutes later, the reply came back-
NO CARRiER

dragostea din tei. the flash video, yes?

He fired back a drawing of Zim being eaten by a Velocioraptor. (Come to think of it, Zim sort of looked like a Velocioraptor.)

The whole concept of scaly!color-changing!Irkens was inspired by a scene in Jurassic Park (the novel) with a... Velocioraptor. Mmhmm.

Deleted scenes:

Something I wish could've been fit into the end product because I still like it- Zim and GIR watch American Idol. And... road construction? idk, that part's not so endeared to me.

8:14 AM

Zim spent another little while working on the antidote before he got incredibly bored again. When he came back up, GIR was sitting in the living room, watching reruns of that show with singing humans. Zim studied the TV.
"This one is horrible," he observed. "I fully expect the Simon human to give this imbecile the trouncing of a lifetime." He sat down beside the small robot.
"I like Paula," GIR said.
"She's filthy," Zim said with a small nod. He cocked his head to the side, studying GIR. GIR was eating something. Looked like a carrot. Or- wait. That wasn't a carrot.
"Where were you yesterday, GIR?" he asked. "I came home from skool and you weren't there."
"I was down in ol' San Fransisco."
"Yeah..." Zim said, looking back at the TV. "I don't think so. Whatcha eatin?"
"It's bunny ears!"
Zim looked back at the thing GIR was chewing on. It didn't look like bunny ears. It didn't look like anything he wanted to identify.
"I got poisoned yesterday," he said suddenly, with a slight undertone of reproach. Reproach for what? GIR couldn't have done anything about it, but... he should have been there! "I bit the Dib-monkey, and-"
"Aww, why'd you bite him? He's nice!" GIR said.
"He was BEATING me UP, GIR," Zim snapped.
"I understand."
"He MADE me do it!" he insisted, clenching his fists.
"I understand."
He pointed emphatically. "I don't just go around biting people like I have dog rabies!"
"Kitties."
"Ugh." Zim gazed absent-mindedly at the TV. As he'd predicted, the Simon human was giving the bad singer a good verbal thrashing. He sighed slightly.
"I feel okay," he said. "So far." Actually, he was getting a mild headache, but he refused to give into it! He was Zim! He was an Invader! Mere pain would not stop Zim!
GIR said nothing.
"I keep thinkin' of Irk," Zim said, staring fixedly at the TV. It seemed like his words hung in the air, waiting for a response. Challenging GIR to either pass off the statement as unremarkable or call out the implications of homesickness which of course Zim did not feel, because he was a stalwart Irken Invader, no matter how many lightyears away from anywhere familiar he was.
But this was GIR. "I like monkeys."
"I know you do, GIR."
They watched the screen in silence. The humans in the TV box were tall, pale, hairy... five-fingered... so alien... ew.
"What about skool?" GIR said suddenly.
Zim did a double-take. "Skool? What time is it? Irk, I'm late!"
He dug his disguise out of his Pak and ran to the door. His eyes bulged as he realized something else he'd forgotten. "IRK! My homework! Argh, I'll get an F!" And he was already thinking of several Fs. "Stupid skool!"
He threw open the door and ran outside into the street- which wasn't there anymore.
Suddenly finding himself sprawled out on his belly in the dirt, Zim blinked a moment, then pushed himself up, staring. The street had been torn apart.
He got to his feet, dusting himself off. There were big human machines and more jackhammers. The noise was loud and deafening.
Well, whatever. He crawled out of the dirt pit (accompanied by shouts from construction workers to get out of the dirt pit, which could not have BEEN more annoying) and onto the sidewalk, running off again. He extended a microphone from his Pak and barked into it- "GIR! Keep those humans out on the street from damaging the base."
"Okie-dokie!"
He retracted the device and kept running, a purposeful gleam in his eyes. The gleam faded when he realized he had no idea where he was.
"Huh?" he said, looking around. Things looked... vaguely familiar...
He backtracked to the torn-apart street and looked around. The construction workers had ripped up the path he usually took to skool. He started weaving his way around nearby buildings and backstreets, grumbling to himself.
Soon nothing was looking familiar. He cursed and backtracked.

Some more of the original Dib-the-lycanthrope subplot (actually, this was originally the main plot and when the story was begun I hadn't even thought of Zim being poisoned yet- he was just getting randomly chewed on by monster!Dib). Also, Zim and GIR watch American Idol again. And this was before I decided to move them up in grade, so Miss Bitters is still hanging around. (I miss her in the finished fic. Mr. Valdez isn't as interesting. In fact, he kinda sucks.)

11:53 AM

"Okay, class, today we're going to talk about undertakers, and why they have one of the most useful jobs on this rotten planet!"
Dib sighed and let the sour voice of Ms. Bitters fade out of his awareness. Instead, he concentrated on the empty desk on the other side of the room.
It was taunting him, that desk.
Taunting him with its empty, bare- EMPTY BARENESS.
Mocking him with its- bare, empty- BARE EMPTINESS.
Obviously, Zim knew exactly what he'd done to Dib's arm and was hiding because he knew how angry Dib would be. The stupid, sneaky alien. And he couldn't do anything about it, because he had to stay in skool. And Zim knew it.
Dib scowled and began scratching out a rather violent doodle on the pad he was supposed to be taking notes with.
“You!”
Dib’s head shot up at the familiar voice and he gasped.
Zim stood in front of his desk, spine rigid and hands on hips with an intense, hateful glare. That part was something Dib saw almost every day. What scared him was the bloody bandage wrapped around Zim’s waist.
“You did this to me!” Zim snapped. “I don’t know how but you did it!”
“I didn’t do anything to you!” Dib protested.
“YOU’RE LYING!” Zim screamed, slapping Dib on the cheek.
Dib reflexively jumped out of his seat and raised his hands to defend himself should the invader get violent again.
“YOU came to my home!” Zim screamed, chest heaving. “YOU are the only one who knows how to get past the security system! YOU clawed open my squeedly spooch because you wanted to take part of me back to the FBI humans! YOU DID THIS!”
“No way! I think I’d remember- wait, clawed? I don’t have claws!”
Zim reared back to shove him but Dib’s reflexes were honed from fighting and he dodged quickly, grabbing Zim’s shoulder and punching him hard in the face, sending the alien spinning backwards into someone’s desk. The kid in the desk screamed.
Zim got to his feet, breathing heavily and giving Dib a malevolent glare. He took a minute to catch his breath and said- “Talk, Earth boy.”
“Listen, Zim,” Dib replied, glaring, “I know you have the intellectual prowess of a three-year-old but you have to know that I didn’t claw open your belly because I DON’T HAVE CLAWS! That‘s just stupid!”
“Stupid?” Zim hollered, drawing himself up to his full height. “STUUUpid, am III?!”
“Yes,” Dib said, folding his arms over his chest and glowering.
Zim scowled at him, eyes narrowed. “Then WHO DID THIS? ANSWER ME!”
“I don’t know!” Dib snapped. “I wasn’t there! It was probably some Irken who hates you like Tak did!”
“Tak?” Zim asked, looking blank. “Ta- ohhh, that Tak…" He began to shake his head violently. "No, no, an Irken wouldn’t do this!”
Dib wondered briefly how anyone could forget Tak, then retorted, “YOU would!”
“I didn’t do this!” Zim snapped, putting his hands on his hips and leaning forward. “Now who’s STUPID?”
“No, I mean you’d do it to-” Dib shook his head. “You know what? I don’t care. I hope it turns septic and you die!”
“Huh?” He drew back, glancing from side to side. “Septic? Explain this term. Explain it now!”
"No, Zim!" Dib snapped with an emphatic point. "Not until YOU explain what you did to my arm!"
"Whaddaya mean what did I do to your arm?"
"It's turning green!"
"Well, then it must be infected or something! I don't know!"
Finally, Ms. Bitters decided to step in.
“Zim, you’re bleeding purple. Go see the nurse about your hideous infection before you give it to the rest of the class,” she hissed vehemently and tossed a hall pass at Zim. He caught it, left the room, gnawed on the collar to disable the detonator, and ran out of the building.
Miss Bitters turned on Dib, baring her teeth in a snarl. Dib backed carefully away and sat down at his desk. Miss Bitters slithered away.

12:27 PM

"I couldn't get any information from him," Zim snapped, marching into his base.
"Is you still leakin'?" GIR said, popping up beside him and poking Zim's waist.
"Stop that, GIR!" he snapped, pushing GIR away. "No, I'm not still bleeding. I should be healed in about an hour. But that little attack chopped away time I should have spent working on the antidote!"
"About that," the computer said. "You'll need that antidote in three months now, not six."
"WHAT?" Zim cried, his eyes bulging.
"Yeah. When I said six, that wasn't figuring in your Pak's energy being directed towards fixing injuries. Granted since you do blow yourself up every other day, maybe I should've..."
Zim ran towards the toilet in the kitchen, a series of distressed grunts starting in his throat. "It doesn't matter," he told himself. "I'll have that antidote ready in two hours anyway."
"Yeah, sure," the computer said as Zim hopped in the toilet. "Just don't get beat up like that again if you know what's good for you."

8:52 PM

Routine. Routine was a nice, easy little thing. Zim had a routine. In the evenings, he watched TV with GIR.
The timing wasn't that intenional, evening just... happened to be when he wrapped up his projects. He definitely didn't care enough about American Idol's results show to put off his work. No, one TV show was as good as the next when it came to studying human behavior and he sure didn't care "I can't believe they're keeping that guy! I hate that guy!"
GIR nodded. Zim slumped back in his seat, sighing and crossing his spindly legs. He picked up the remote and flipped away from the closing credits, double-checking to see if there was anything good on at nine- he was pretty sure there wasn't.
"Week after week, that guy!" he snapped. "Butchering the very concept of music! And he's ugly!"
"Pancakes!" GIR shrieked.
Zim turned off the TV with a sigh. His eyes roamed around the room, finally coming to rest on the window and the night sky beyond it.
He tilted his head sideways, considering.
"GIR," he said suddenly, and the SIR unit turned to give him a curious look. "Come with me. I want to show you something."
Zim stood up and motioned to GIR. GIR hopped off the couch and trotted towards him.
"Computer, roof," Zim said, and the floor rose underneath them.
They stepped off carefully onto the slanted roof of the house. Zim studied the sky for a moment, then took GIR's hand and led him towards the front of the house. This late, he wasn't worried about humans.
"Oooh! WHAT IS IT?" GIR screamed.
"Shh," Zim hissed, and he pointed up into the sky. "See that star, GIR? That little purply one?"
"It's pretty," GIR said with a nod.
"That's Irk's sun."
"Ooooh..."
"This filthy planet is currently at the stage in its orbit where they are closest together," Zim explained, "so it's plainly visible. To us, anyway. Me with my advanced ocular implants and you with your amazing robot vision. I doubt the humans can see anything."
And that was just fine with him. He didn't want stupid humans gawking at his sun.
Zim took a seat on the roof, tucking his legs beneath him. He tilted his head back, gazing up at the distant star with his antennae flattened to his head.
GIR plopped down beside him with a metallic clank.
"The night after tomorrow," Zim said, "the star will pass out of our field of vision again and we won't be able to see it for another month. So look now, GIR."
"Okey-dokey."
It was a mild night. It probably would have been too cold for a human, but it felt good to Zim. Earth was usually a little too warm for his tastes. Speaking of warmth... it would be summer soon. No more skool for three more months. He took a deep breath and let it out. Of course, the Dib would also be freed from skool... so he couldn't just skip and get a vacation from the annoying child. Like he'd done today.
"I really hate this planet, GIR," he said.
There was no answer. Zim looked over his shoulder, blinking. GIR wasn't there. He must have gone back inside while Zim was lost in thought.
He sighed and stretched out on the roof, pressing his narrow chest against the smooth purple surface and folding his hands under his chin with his feet kicking lazily in midair behind him. His gaze remained fixed on the purple star. He should really go back inside and continue work on the antidote. He didn't have forever. Yeah... he should be working...
He sighed again. Suddenly a hand clamped down on his ankle and he screamed.
He felt the roof tile slipping forward underneath him and clawed at it in a desperate attempt to stop himself being pulled backwards. The attacker grabbed his arm and wrenched him around- there was a sickening crack from just above his elbow and a wrenching in his lower back. Zim screamed. Claws swiped his cheek.
A metal spider leg shot out of his Pak, connecting with the attacker's chest. It was thrown backwards with an animal cry. Zim rose off the ground on all four spider legs, panting.
The attacking creature leapt to its feet with a scream. Zim piled a spider leg into its chest.
The attacker grabbed the spider leg and heaved it. Zim found himself spinning through the air, screaming. Then he was crashing down through a bush, scratchy twigs poking his face, and he came down with a thud on his already injured arm. There was a horrible sound like a pencil being snapped.
Zim lay still for a moment, his breathing rapid. He was not unfamiliar with injuries like this one, he was a soldier after all, but ow.
He picked himself up on spider legs again, panting. His biological legs didn't seem to be working right. He thought the creature might have injured his back. He could see a dark shape moving up on the roof.
Zim's antennae flattened to his head. His arm dangled at his side like a wet noodle of pain.
He drew a gun from his Pak and shot at the shape on the roof. It screamed and began running around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Wait a minute.
"GIR!" he screamed.
"Woo hoo!" GIR called from up on the roof.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, GIR?" he barked, every word clipped and tense.
Then the creature piled into him from the back.

Other:

Dagnabbit, I just realized Dib says it's Friday and then attends skool the next day. Dang crap it all.

Chapter 3

Songs:

In The Dark Of The Night: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJepo5QepdA

References:

"The balloon man sent me!" GIR chirped. "He said I'd float!"

WE ALL FLOAT DOWN HERE, GEORGIE! w00t, 'It'.

Deleted scenes:

Cut for redundancy, pointlessness and no longer really fitting with the narrative:

Dib leaned back in the chair, studying his palms and nibbling his lower lip. His entire left arm had turned green now, and the small, fine scales were making their way up his shoulder. Would they go down his back? Or up his neck, sending their insidious trails into his brain? Would he become an emotionless alien monster like Zim?
Dib swore to himself that would never happen. If he started becoming a danger to Earth, he'd provoke Gaz until she killed him.
He turned the green hand over, studying it, marveling at it. He had small, pointed claws on the end of each finger. The claws were unlike those of a dog or a cat, they weren't curved- they appeared to be specialized cone-shaped scales covering the tips of his fingers. He knew from experience what damage they could do with the right amount of force behind them, even blunted with gloves.
It'd be kinda cool to use Zim's own natural biological weapon against him. Maybe he'd get a chance before he turned himself back.
Speaking of biological weapons... gee, Zim sure had looked sick at recess.
Dib raised one eyebrow. "I wonder what's wrong with him," he said. "Some hideous Irken virus or something closer to home? Maybe even food poisoning?"
He grinned wickedly to himself. "You picked the wrong Earthling to mess with, Zim. The wrong Earthling."

Other:

There was a smooth object in here, smooth and triangular. It was clear plastic and marked in black with the symbol of the Irken Invaders. It had a small loop at the top- when this was tipped in towards the neck, a glowing blue cord would shoot out and encircle the neck . Zim pulled it out and looked at it. He'd gotten this upon completing his Invader training, everyone in his class had.

You can see a picture of this medallion here, though in the picture MALIK is holding it, not Zim.

And if you haven't guessed yet this trinket will become sort of a thematic element. Like the flower-behind-the-ear thing in Lilo & Stitch 2. But less girly.

Chapter 4

Songs:

Nowhere Man: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dHLjYBsl2zA

References:

Her posture was stiff and rather military in character.

The phrasing is a reference to Watership Down. :> I love that book.

Deleted scenes:

None actually.

Chapter 5

Songs:

Together Again: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNi5O9Pdhmo

References:

None actually. Hm.

Deleted scenes:

MALIK was originally not involved in the story at all- Zim had to go try to retrieve GIR himself. The resulting scene... I wish I still had a place for it. It's cool.

Irkens are not really hand-to-hand fighters. They are small, (usually) agile, and best suited for sneaking up on the enemy. What humans view as cowardly, they view as perfectly acceptable and even admirable- the knife in the back is a favorite, all the more so because breaking an Irken's Pak is the only real way to kill it. They favor enclosed spaces (like Zim's warren-like underground lab) and if they can, most of them prefer to drop down from above.
Zim had been in worse places for battle. He didn't like being so vulnerable, and he didn't like that Dib had gotten the chance to hide before he could, but the room was dark and closed in giving him a feeling of shelter. A palpably false feeling, given that he was exposed on every side, and physically weaker than usual, but this was nothing compared to when Dib had had him cornered atop a moving school bus, in front of dozens of humans...
Zim shook himself out of the memory and weighed his options. The only chance of coming out ahead would be to draw Dib into the open where he could attack on spider legs. Going after the human in the protective nest where he was now would be tedious and waste precious energy; it would also give the boy time to escape.
He stalked forward, choosing his steps carefully and turning his head from side to side, searching the tangle of equipment. He usually paid no attention to his military posture, it was maintained subconsciously due to the years of rigorous training he'd undergone, but now he had to be careful to keep his back and arms straight. It was imperative that he show no more sign of weakness than was absolutely unavoidable.
"You're going about this the wrong way, Dib," he called, his sensitive antennae poised and twitching, silmultaneously scenting and tasting the air for nauseating eau de Dib. "You keep thinking of me in human terms. I'm not one of you, Dib. I'm so much more."
Asserting his alien heritage was risky in and of itself, should the boy be carrying a recording device. But recording devices could be destroyed. If necessary, so could Dib.
He marched forward, wishing he'd had the foresight to bring a handheld weapon. "I know what you're trying to do, you see. You think I've formed some kind of attachment to GIR. You think I will fight hard for him, hard enough to make a mistake. Invaders form attachments to no one and nothing. I'm here because you interfered with my mission by taking GIR. I'll be less efficient without a servant. I need him back."
The Dib remained silent and Zim's antennae flattened to his head. Where was the boy? He was still in here, wasn't he?
"I don't need him that much," Zim continued. "I know you can't get any useful information out of him. He wasn't that great of a minion anyway. If I fail here- and I am resolved not to- you can just have him, okay? Okay? Good luck reverse-engineering that piece of crap!"
He stood still for a minute, holding his arms away from his body and listening closely. He heard his own slightly labored breathing and rapid heartbeat, and he heard equipment humming and bubbling. Nothing else.
"Come on, Dib," he hissed. "I know you're there. You can't hurt me. I don't hurt. But I have a feeling- yes- I have a feeling you do."
He headed forward at a slow, careful pace. Was that movement over in the shadows? No. No, he was mistaken. He stood still for a moment.
Now, finally, the small boy's voice rang out- "Are you done talking?"
"I'll never be done talking," Zim scoffed, blissfully unaware of how that sounded. "But I'll stop for now. If you have a good reason for me to." Truthfully, his throat hurt and he was slightly out of breath. He was glad for the excuse to rest his voice, even if he'd never admit it.
"All right. It is unbelievably hard to get you to listen, you know that? I've been trying to talk to you for the past three days. Okay. I know what's wrong with you, Zim."
"There is nothing wrong with me," he hissed.
"I thought you might deny it, but I know you're bluffing," the child continued slowly, clearly and carefully. "I compared my human DNA with the new Irken DNA on my arm. Which you put there."
"What?" Zim asked, narrowing his eyes. "I did no such thing."
"Let me finish," Dib said. "Our species are completely incompatible. When your saliva entered my body, it was so foreign to me that things started... changing."
Zim raised his face, scouting carefully for the source of the voice. He didn't find it. "Changing?" he repeated.
"And when you swallowed my blood, it was foreign to you. Really foreign. And your body is more delicate than mine. It can't adapt."
A nasty, nasal, gloating tone came into his voice.
"But it can play dead. Every species knows that trick."
"You're lying!" Zim snapped, clenching his hands into fists.
"I need your equipment," Dib said. "And you need my DNA."
"If I needed your DNA I could take it," Zim hissed.
"What about a knowledge of human biology? Can you just take that?"
Zim lowered his head, narrowing his eyes.
"I didn't think so, Zim."
"Show yourself."
"So you can attack me? Yeah, right! Come on, Zim. I have stuff you want, and you have stuff I want. And you're just gonna die if you refuse, anyway."
Zim pressed his lips together. As much as it burned him to admit it... Dib was right.
"All right, fine! But I call the shots, understand?"
"Okay," Dib said with a vocal shrug. "You know more than I do, anyway."
Dang it all! He was supposed to argue! Oh, well... he didn't feel like arguing anyway.
"Fine," Zim snapped.
"Good choice," Dib said. "Since your senses are already failing."
He was about to demand to know what Dib meant by that when the stink child turned the light on. He was only two feet away from Zim.
His antennae fell limply against the back of his head.
Dib smirked.

I don't know what this is.

She inclined her head sideways, pursing her lips as she watched her captor working with a variety of different chemicals.
MALIK was sort of supposed to know what he was doing, but she didn't. She'd always had distressingly poor skills with such matters, and watching this Zim creature working with such obvious expertise only served to aggravate her further. He was small, and seemed to be in less than full health (though not being familiar with his species she couldn't be sure), and had a rather frail appearance- he was very thin.
And yet, he was quite bold. MALIK did not consider herself an unsettling individual (except potentially in the sense that her obvious sophistication threw others off), but she was well aware most people did not like to meet her gaze. This 'Zim' had no problem with it. In fact, his utter confidence had obliged her to look away.

Alternate May-attacking-Dib scene- I was playing with the idea of her getting captured, but decided a. she's not THAT bad a fighter b. I didn't want to bother with having to get her back. Mostly b.

MALIK headed down the sidewalk towards the address Zim had given her, her footsteps sharp and even. She'd outrigged a new hologram disguise for herself, a small, inconspicuous human child- brown hair and eyes, fair skin, no really outstanding features.
A child. Honestly. Probably stole Zim's rubber duck, or something.
Here was the place. She walked up and kicked open the door, tossing her head. "Dib!" she called. "I have been sent by Invader Zim to retrieve-"
And then nothing less than a human MISSILE hit her and knocked her to the ground. She instantly started kicking and punching, her hologram going off.
MALIK had been in her fair share of fights, with adults, but this child was holding his own against her. She was just beginning to gain the upper hand when some small electric device touched her side and she fell limp, unable to move. The human's face appeared in her field of vision. It was pale and wild-eyed, with thick glasses and messy black hair.
"Zim sent you, huh?" he sneered in a nasal voice. "You're not an Irken machine!"
MALIK saw no need to explain the situation to this boy. He was hostile and vicious and Zim had been right to think of him as an enemy. The Irken obviously was more qualified to hold authority than she had first realized.
"He probably ripped you off from somewhere," Dib said, picking her up under the arms. "Well, it gives me another bargaining chip!"
Obviously, it had been a mistake to venture into this situation unprepared. Zim should have given her more-
Actually, he had told her the child was dangerous.
She would have scowled if her face would move. The child was carrying her down a flight of stairs now.
"I'll get a look at you later," the Dib boy said, setting her down. "Right now, I'm still expecting ol' Adolf himself to make an appearance."
And he left, leaving MALIK to stare off into space.
She couldn't believe this had happened. Her first real mission-
-not that it was a real mission, she had no business being here in the first place, but to have botched things so badly-
"Heyy!"
The face of a robot appeared in her field of vision. Two hands grabbed her by the shoulders and she was carried off.
"I GOTS A NEW TEA PARTY!" the robot carrying her screamed, and she was set down in a chair across from a human girl with purple hair and closed eyes. She was all decked out in pink, lace, frills and makeup. MALIK would have recoiled if she could.
"Say a word to anyone and I'll devour your soul," the girl snarled.

Gaz at a tea party. Heh heh heh.

Chapter 6

Songs:

Stand Out: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tP0Xp3cn-tM

If Only: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6yhtffOtjw

References:

None.

Deleted scenes:

A rough, crappy, sketchy version of a possible alternate ending. Kinda angsty.

6:32 PM

The room was hot and stuffy and he closed his eyes, hearing his own whimper- wrong, wrong, Invaders don't whimper, Irkens don't whimper, you stupid defective thing you, stop it, don't make a single noise
He wasn't a defective, he was Zim, he was a good Invader
shut up, Zerinim, you tiny little whelp, tiny little runt, you're no good
The voice knew nothing. Nothing.
His antennae twitched in the air, sampling the smells of fabric, metal, human, his own sickness
everyone knew you'd die out here
the smells of millions of smeet bodies all around him and they were all breathing and their Paks humming and pale, soft, yellow, and they towered over him, they that couldn't be more than a foot tall and yet huge, everything huge, if Dib had been there he would have been a giant, a monolith but Dib wasn't there, Dib could never be there, he wasn't a thought yet, he was not even a fertilized cell in his mother's womb
but I'm here, me, little Zerinim, six inches and four ounces, and one day
One day what?
One day he'd be weak and helpless with Earthen poison spreading through his veins, each breath harder to take
one day I'll be a soldier
he would not die with honor on the battlefield, but alone on an enemy planet inside his own base
I don't want to die at all
but now he was a smeet, a tiny, uneducated little monster
they touch me they put their hands on me their FILTHY HANDS
biting and snapping, blood on his teeth
it tastes like pennies
one hundred and sixty years later, it still tasted like pennies.
His tongue lapped against the inside of his teeth and his eyes twitched behind his eyelids. He shuddered with unconscious revulsion. He could hear his own breathing and heartbeat and his humming Pak and beside him a small motor, a robot.
"GIR?" he moaned.
"Sir?" Oh, her. MALIK.

Dib stared at the screen. No. Really? Seriously?
He began to pant. This was wonderful. This was incredible. This was SO. FREAKING. SIMPLE.
"Computer, take me upstairs!" he said, hopping up and down. The platform underneath him started going up.
He didn't even wait for it to completely match up with the floor before he bounded off into the living room, crying- "Zim! Zim! I-"
Then he stopped.
For a moment, he thought Zim was already dead, and he felt strangely... let down. His enemy couldn't be allowed to peacefully waste away in his own home.
Then he saw the Irken was breathing, and he relaxed, somewhat. The fact that he looked dead couldn't mean anything good. He started shaking his shoulders. "Zim! Hey!"
Zim twisted his head around, snorting. "Mmmph..."
"Get up, Zim! I have a cure I want to-"
"He won't wake up, Dib," MALIK snapped. He turned to see her standing in the doorway.
Dib's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"
The small robot folded her arms across her chest. "He's delirious. Adminster the cure yourself."
Dib blinked at her, then looked down at the syringe, breathing slightly faster. His heart was pounding. He'd dreamed of cutting Zim open and pulling his guts out, sure, but somehow... "Where are his veins?"
"I don't know. I don't know. Just-"
Dib grabbed Zim's arm and pulled the glove off, revealing small, clawed hands now nearly identical to Dib's own. He started looking for a vein, then realized such details of the skin were blanketed over by scales. Duh.
It'd have to be subcantaneous. He jammed in the needle and injected the solution, hoping he wasn't overdosing Zim, who had very little body weight to speak of.
Then he started looking for the vein in his own arm. That was covered with scales as well.
He shook his head, scowling and jammed in that needle under the skin too. He injected the cure and set the empty syringe aside.
"Is it working?" MALIK demanded, coming closer.
Dib was about to answer when he abruptly passed out.

Dib came awake slowly. He sat up, groaning slightly, and held his head. He rubbed his eyes, then looked down at his hand.
It was covered by smooth, pale, human skin. He gasped.
His fingernails, however, still covered the ends of his fingers and were pointed like Irken claws. He gasped again and got to his feet, staring down at his freaky hands. He looked about him and saw Zim still lying on the couch as still as death with MALIK standing beside him. She gave Dib a hostile look and he took another step away.
"Um- Zim's computer?" he called, trembling. "Could you give me a medical scan?"
There was a bored mechanical sigh and a beam of light swept over him. "Subject name: Dib-filth."
"Um."
"That's what it says in my database. Height: Four feet, six inches. Weight: Seventy pounds. Eye color: Light brown."
Dib folded his arms over his chest, tapping his foot. "Nice to know my eyes don't have polka dots now, or anything."
"Gender: Male. Specimen has a mild birth defect causing it to have blurry vision at close range. This defect has been corrected by some kinda human thingy."
"Glasses. They're glasses."
"Specimen seems to have altered his genetic makeup with Irken DNA. That was a stupid thing to do."
"WHAT?"
"Specimen has mutated and is now a freak. Nice going."
"Augh!" Dib yelled, and ran for the door. Halfway there, he stopped and said "What about Zim?"
"He's cured but weak."
"Okay," he said with some relief, then ran outside.

Dib settled back in his seat, sighing. According to his laptop, he was mostly the same as always. He just had creepy claws now.
Well, it was better than turning into an alien freak. This way he could just start wearing gloves and no one would know.

Other:

Yes, Irkens have purple blood. Sharrup.

'Skireena Zim' means 'help me'. Irkens have no first-person pronouns. The other words I... will have to assign a meaning to later.

Epilogue

Songs:

I Will Show The World: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PeVZHbyX2eU

References:

"Dilbert." He looked behind him to see Dib standing there with a hand held out, his face expressionless. "Dilbert Putchel."

Dilbert. Yes.

Deleted scenes:

None.

Other:

Dib's last name, 'Putchel'- I was playing with variations of the world 'puzzle'. I settled on this one because I thought it was subtle-ish without being too far from the word I wanted it to sound like.

WELL THATS IT. Thanks for stickin' around.

mood:

accomplished

tags: both syllables, fan fiction, fic extras, invader zim, nowehre man, story extras

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