PRE-STORY NOTE: For those of you who read through the first part of this fic already, my thanks go out to you. If the admittedly graphic scenes bothered you previously, you can rest assured that there are no sex acts in the second half of the fic. However, whereas Part 1 was primarily about Dib's rape itself, Part 2 proceeds with the knowledge that such things don't just fade away from a person's consciousness.

PS: Yes, I know the events in this fic wouldn't have a chance of happening within the show of Invader Zim itself. Let's just say I had some inner demons that needed venting, these past few months. All characters in this fic, save for the Membrane's ex-puppy Doppler, are the brainchildren of Jhonen Vasquez and the Nickelodeon staff of Invader Zim.

PPS: "Doppler" wasn’t taken from the dog in Disney's recent film Treasure Planet. It was the name of my childhood pet guinea pig; I used it only because I couldn't think of any other fittingly bizarre pet names the Membranes might use. A small thing-- just thought I'd mention it.

Anyhow. Enough of my babbling. Here we go...

-----

Dirty Chicken’s Got a Secret
by Apricot the Gerbil

Chapter 2: Quenched

The sun began to set, casting a dusky haze over Dib as he stared out the window of his room, a blank look on his face. The scythe of hair atop his head drooped in a matted frizz, an oily lightning bolt sagging along his pale face.

The blaze in the sky had just lit all the clouds a fiery crimson. Dib sighed at the sight, pausing to rub at the dried tear-trails on his cheeks. Without thinking, he brought his hand down to his bed, smoothing his fingers over the blankets. A jumbled curl of money lay strewn across the desk nearby, most of the bills gathering a tiny layer of dust.

Footsteps sounded from the doorway behind him. A wadded-up washcloth smacked Dib on the back of the head; he spun around to see Gaz standing there by the bed, her usual sour squint serving as her greeting.

"Dad wanted me to come up here," she said. She grabbed the cloth off Dib's bed and wrung it about in her hands, only to toss it back at Dib, narrowly missing beaning her brother a second time. "The stink's been getting so bad when he passes by here that he thought our puppy got caught in a vent or something."

"Doppler's been dead and buried for three years now, Gaz." Dib muttered.

His sister opened her eyelids enough to show a dull glare of annoyance. "You think I don't know that? ...Come on, Dib. You've been in here for over a week now! And saying ‘I'm sick’ again isn't going to fix things anymore. You think just going to school for a few hours this morning is going to be enough? Gonna run back up here to your cave for another month now, or what?"

Dib looked away, glancing down at the carpet. He said, in the same monotone, "Nobody even noticed I'd been gone, y'know."

"Hmph. Well, okay, so maybe they’re going to stay idiots, but I can tell something's up." Gaz eyed her brother, pointing to his shirt. "Why did you stop wearing your trenchcoat, anyhow? Still afraid the mailman wired it to hear your thoughts, like last time?"

"No. Just didn't feel like wearing it..."

Gaz stood silent for a moment, her fists trembling slightly-- never a good sign for a brother who could face her dooming wrath. Dib didn't flinch, however; he only blinked at her, his expression one of absolute indifference.

Gaz finally stomped up to his bed, grabbing Dib by the neck cuff of his shirt and yanking him down to eye level. "You haven't been talking about any of the stupid stuff you always do, Dib," she said through clenched teeth. "Not one single thing about aliens or vampire ghost weasels or anything. You haven't even been sitting in front of the TV when my shows are on, this last week. You're not bugging me all the time anymore..." She gave a sharp jerk down on his shirt, emphasizing her words: "...and it's really... starting... to BUG ME!"

Dib sighed wearily. "Sorry, I guess."

Gaz's grip snapped away from her brother's collar, sending him flopping backwards onto the blankets with a quick, pained yelp. Dib lay there, quietly huffing for breath; he squirmed on the blanket for a moment, then exhaled and fell silent. His spreading frown was the only sign that he noticed Gaz's face, leaning from overhead to squint down at him. Dib's eyes followed the little
painted skull of her necklace, bobbing slightly back and forth...

Gaz wasn't even sure Dib would be listening, but she spoke to him nevertheless, her voice softening somewhat-- as much as her personality would allow, anyhow. "Dib. What's going on? You've been scaring me lately, y'know. And I don't get scared, not from you."

"Nothing..." came Dib's weak reply. "I just-- I don't wanna talk about it."

His sister frowned. "It's something about Dad, isn't it? I knew something was wrong at breakfast this morning, but I didn't know what."

"No, it's not him."

"You sure? I can't remember you running out of the room bawling after he's said something to you before."

Dib's fingers clenched around the blankets. His eyes were stinging... Why did she have to bring that up?

His mind flashed back to that morning: Professor Membrane had made a rare appearance in person at the family's kitchen table. As Dib gingerly lowered himself onto his chair and slumped before his cereal bowl, his father chuckled merrily.

"Hoh hoh, now! What's this? Son, you're looking in low spirits this morning!"

Dib mumbled a "Maybe..." to his spoon, his gaze staying low.

Membrane rubbed a gloved hand along the part of his lab coat where his chin would be, hmm-ing in thought. His goggles widened suddenly, and he gasped, as if he'd just made another fantastic new discovery. "Son! You're moping about, you look in a muddle-- Could it be?! You've fallen in LOVE!!"

Dib gaped in horror. "No-- NO, it's not--!"

Unfortunately, the Professor was already lost in his thoughts. He waggled a finger towards the boy across the table, chiding, "Now now, son! It's nothing to be ashamed about! It's perfectly natural! Come now, tell me who the lucky girl is... Is she in your class?"

His son only tightened his grip on the spoon, his breath suddenly huffing in quick, panicked gusts. Tears watered up from behind Dib's glasses, turning his family into an unfamiliar blur before him. His body burned, almost as if time had never passed since being locked in that cold room, and he felt vomit about to burst up again... That grease smell-- it was everywhere, all of a
sudden--

A tiny whimper was all Dib managed to utter before he jumped up from his chair, barreling down the hallway as if something was on fire behind him. Professor Membrane kept babbling on about who Dib's new sweetheart might be with his usual oblivious fervor. Gaz ignored his cheery droning, however, and raised a concerned eyebrow...

"...Dib? HEY DIB!"

Gaz's voice startled Dib back into the present. As he lost the glazed look in his eyes, his sister stopped waving her fingers in front of his face. "Thought I'd lost you there," she said with an edge of sarcasm. "So are you going to tell me what's up, or am I going to have to doom it out of you? I don't want to have to do that. You look too pitiful right now, even for me."

Dib was silent for a moment. He finally looked up from the blanket, towards Gaz, about to answer...

THUH THOOM. THUH THOOM. A sudden rattling noise shook the two of them out of their conversation; the house seemed to vibrate where it stood. Gaz growled to herself at this interruption, walking towards the window as the rumbling continued. She took a quick glance outside, then turned to Dib.

"I think it's for you."

---

Zim surveyed his nemesis's house with pompous pride, perched atop the whirring DeathMech he'd convinced those Vortian scientists to send him. Such power he now wielded was only fitting for one of his amazing-ness! He cackled to himself, much as he'd done the entire trip over here from his base.

And here was his enemy now! Zim smirked at how sickly the Dib-worm looked, peeking out like a cowardly Slorbichoo from inside that feeble wooden house. "What's wrong, DIB?! Am I that terrifying to you, that you haven't been able to face me all week?"

Dib squished up his disgusting squishy face in a scowl. "This... this really isn't a good time, Zim..."

Zim fumed, gripping the sides of his piloting seat. "You DARE try to dismiss the mighty Invader ZIM with such an easy rejection?!" he hissed, spittle flying from his edged teeth. It was so tempting a thought, to set off the Mech's cannons right now... "You see the weapon I have here! Do you care nothing for the safety of you OR your miserable planet, with your--" He lashed his arms forward, fingerquoting in the air with his gloves, "'hyoomans' and your 'peace' and 'well-being', and all that other bile-laden--"

Dib cut him off mid-sentence, his voice shaking with anger. "NO! NO I DON'T, Zim! You go and torch this place to the ground, I don't care anymore!"

He braced himself against the open window's edge with his arms, almost digging little trails into the wood with his fingernails. "I may've cared once, but that was back when I was stupid, Zim. That was before I learned what humans were really like, what they do when they think no one's watching. And they're not WORTH saving!!"

The window slammed shut all of a sudden, and black cloth swept along either side of the window, blocking the Irken's view of that room. Zim stood there in shock, his jaw dangling... what arrogance! He'd surely make his rival pay for such reckless, witless conduct!

...Maybe later, though. It wouldn't do to blow up the house and not be able to relish the sight of that horrible Dib in screaming, pleading terror, as the DeathMech's cannons rendered him to atoms, his filthy human liquids spraying around like the breeze itself... Zim gave the command for the Mech to turn around and begin lumbering away, slouched over in his seat like a pouting Earthenoid child.

After he finally parked the DeathMech in his base's weapons carrier and silenced the rumbling from the machine, however, Zim paused, his eyes bugging in sudden realization. What if such a simple act as the cloth-covering was planned, just to throw Zim off course? Maybe Dib knew he wouldn't attack if he couldn't see the result!

By My Tallest, the Irken thought, this human could indeed be devious when he wanted to be... it would be wise to remember such strategy myself, for future battles. Zim nodded to the air, chuckling darkly. Make no mistake, Dib-stink, the time for your ultimate humiliation will be coming soon enough...

---

Dib stomped back to his bed, carefully sitting down on the blankets once more and crossing his arms. He seemed lost in thought, but Gaz decided to ask him anyhow: "Dib? That really didn't sound like you."

She only got a tiny shoulder-shrug as a response, so she continued. "What was all that about 'when you think no one's watching,’ anyhow?" She paused, noticing the money still piled on Dib's desk. "You don't have to lie, I won't tell. I've seen a lot from video games... Did you kill someone?"

"n...no... nothin' like that..." whispered Dib's quivering voice.

Gaz sighed, trailing it off with an edge of frustration. She was curious, yes, but Dib didn't have to make this so difficult! "Well, it's your choice," she said. "Either you can tell me what you did that's making you shake like a leaf every time anyone talks to you, or you can just sit there like you have been, and stay here by yourself 'till Dad and I have to come up here and pry you off the bed with a crowbar."

Silence.

"Fine. If that's what you choose, have fun getting smellier. Guess I'll see you next week." Gaz turned to the door and began walking.

"Gaz?"

A smirk crossed Gaz's face. She stopped, standing in place, waiting to hear more.

"c-can... can you come over here? Please...?" she heard Dib ask, so softly that she had to strain to make out the words.

"S’pose I could," replied Gaz, walking back to her brother's bed...

...only to have him all but collapse on the sheets, prostrated before her. Gaz stumbled back, her eyes widened in confusion, as Dib buried his head between his arms, choking out a muffled, stuttering wail, almost as if half the sobs were catching in his throat on their way out.

The wail finally began forming into words, slipping in between the sniffling. "I-- I, I-- I can't, I CAN'T tell... can't to anyone!"

"Dib?" Gaz whispered, slowly leaning closer to her brother. "Tell what?"

"...it just hurts so BAD... I know there's blood st-- still coming out of it but I can't--" He stammered for a moment as Gaz stood before him, waiting. "S'all one big mess! Can't even s-sit down anymore... But he's got something of mine, I'd get in so much trouble, I can't tell anyone--!"

"Someone else was bleeding?"

"No..." Dib said, lifting his head enough for Gaz to see his eyes, glassy and red-streaked from the puddling tears. He went on, running his words together between sobs, and gasping for breath now and then in sticky gulps.

"On the floor, he was-- he'd done it, and he went away and LEFT me there, it was... it was so cold... but he came back, he-- he said something to me, and pulled me off the box I was on..."

He stopped for a moment, and looked at his sister as if he'd just noticed her. Gaz frowned, trying to think of something that might perhaps calm him down. She reached for his hands and began running her fingers over them, albeit a bit clumsily. At the moment, she didn't have any idea what Dib was talking about, but it seemed important enough to at least hear him out. She always did have a weakness for puzzle games.

"Blood. There-- there was blood just everywhere, a mess, all over the floor and on me, and on him, and-- smelled awful, there was... just... brown, and red, all over... it was all MY blood--!"

Gaz blinked, startled at this. She climbed up onto the bed, nearer to him, and opened her arms, not quite sure if he'd want a hug at this point (it was quite a strange concept in their family to begin with). However, Dib took the opportunity, shivering like a lost puppy who'd finally heard a familiar voice. He flailed out his arms and fell into hers, rubbing runny snot all along her arm as he did so.

His sister winced in disgust at this unexpected mess, but even having to put up with Dib's running nose seemed a bit trivial at this point. Now Gaz was really curious. She steeled herself to ask the question she desperately hoped wasn't true: "Dad did this to you?"

"No... not him..." Dib sniffled.

Her eyes opened in realization. With fury in her voice, she hissed, "ZIM..."

"NO! I told you, I can't tell who-- but it’s not him!"

"When did this happen? Back when you got sick, that one night?" Gaz asked.

"Yuh.. last week..." Dib nodded. "Haven't-- I didn't wash or anything since then."

Gaz glared at him. She knew this was serious, but she didn't know Dib could be that plain stupid... "You've been bleeding somewhere for over a week and you didn't say anything?! How could you-- WHY?!"

Dib softly replied, "Because I deserved it."

His sister stared back, not sure who to be more upset with. "Uh huh. Right. You deserved to sit up here and bleed to death? What made you believe that?"

Dib answered her in a voice colder than stone. "Because he kept me back there and... and did-- he said he had work for me there and he’d pay me but I, I didn’t think he’d... I just didn’t know! And he’d locked all the doors, and... and-- he did everything to me, everything! I kept screaming for him to stop, and he never did... But he dragged me up again, and-- the mess, all over, there was white there, too..."

He gripped Gaz's arm all the tighter. "He said I had FUN-- I felt down there, it was hard, and..." Dib sunk his head against his sister's shoulder, his words stuttering in patches as he tried snuffing his nose. "...And I think some of it was MINE... I mean why would I-- why wouldn’t I be awful, that I could-- could do-- from that--?!"

The room fell into a painfully long silence. Dib continued to utter little wordless mewls, as Gaz sat cradling her brother, a disgusted frown etched upon her face. She stared over at the money on the desk nearby. For the first time in a long, long while, her eyes were wide open.

It was Gaz who finally spoke first, awkwardly stumbling over her words a bit as she did so. "Can I... um, maybe get you a tissue or something? Or some soda...?" she asked. "’Cause I want to do something before I call Dad in here to get you to an emergency room."

She felt Dib's arms cringe around her. "No, I'm not gonna say what happened," she said. "They don't need to know for right now, not if you're not even going to tell me. I'm just kinda glad you told me first. I don't even wanna think about how Dad would've tried taking this... But I am gonna have him take you to a doctor, so tell me now if you want something."

Dib shook his head 'no' against Gaz's shoulder. He added a tiny 'thank you' afterwards, not bothering to explain why...

---

Gaz turned her attention to the clock on the living room wall, then went back to facing the game on the TV screen, where her virtual persona had just beheaded yet another howling, clawed beast. It was just after four in the morning... neither Dib nor her father had come back home from the hospital yet. She knew she'd probably be staying home from school tomorrow anyhow, so sleep was no longer a worry for her.

Besides, right now, she felt like killing something.

Her fingers twisted around the controls with expert ease. Kick. Punch. Uppercut combo. Down went another enemy, a sword cleaving their body in half... she'd lost count after two hundred. A horned monster reared up in front of her; it lasted all of five seconds.

Usually, this would be just another game for Gaz, but this time her face was flushed red with rage, squinting deathwishes into the eyes of every enemy she faced. Another monster screamed, its face spilling off as she released the acid grenades she'd picked up in a previous level.

She had thought this game would distract her from any worries while she waited, but even as soon as the second level, she'd found herself thinking the same thought in her mind, over, and over, until it became just another reason she was so angry in the first place: Why can't it ever be this easy?

Gaz did a double-take as the screen suddenly splashed red. The view of her character switched to that of a two-headed demon, triumphantly cackling at the fallen hero's defeat before the screen went black. Gaz’s hands shook against the controls in shock. A sneak attack... that's what it must have been... but she'd NEVER lost this game before.

Growling, Gaz flung the controller away. The "Game Over" theme rumbled through the room, the tune blaring her mistake's outcome back in her face. The fact that she'd turned up the TV's volume so high (all the better for total immersion, when no one was at home) now seemed to mock her.

One grab of the TV remote, and the screen was silenced.

Her mind, however, wasn't so easily shut up. She'd lost. She had lost. She'd actually LOST.

That was one of the reasons Gaz always found video games so much easier to deal with than actual life. There were no limits if you didn't want there to be any-- just pick a different game, and you could always do something new. You didn't have to sit in one place; you could go into outer space, onto desert lands, through the ocean, even farther. As far back as she could ever remember, she'd always beaten the most mind-warpingly difficult games like it was no challenge at all.

Most of all, Gaz could always depend on the characters she played. If she turned the controller to the left, the character would move left. If she punched some buttons, it'd do whatever she told it to do. Heroes in video games never ignored her, never annoyed her, never made her feel worthless... she just gave the right commands, and whoever that game's enemy was could be beaten to a pulp and forgotten about. She was always in control.

Once you turned off a game, it'd never stick around and make you worry about what happened next…

Why can't it ever be that easy?

The phrase kept beating against her brain in an endless loop. Gaz stared at the clock, waiting for someone-- anyone-- to step through the front door.

---

It was the brightness that made Dib's eyes flutter first. Like reaching the top of a hazy ocean, he slowly tried moving fingertips, then his arm, up to shield his face, uttering some wordless noise as he finally woke up...

The chirping of birds stuttered faintly from somewhere nearby. Dib blinked at the familiar posters and drawings taped up on the dark blue walls. His room.

How long have I been here? he wondered, as he noticed the tiny bleeps of some kind of video game-- even if he didn't play them, he'd come to recognize the sound by now. He tried freeing both arms, shakily leaning on an elbow to see over his bed.

His arm flopped back against the sheets, limp, like it hadn't woken up quite yet. A yelp followed, as Dib's face fell back into his pillow.

Gaz turned from her seat on the carpet, raising an eyebrow at her brother's actions. "You're finally awake."

Dib blinked a few times, trying to remember how he got here. He still felt so tired... "I was asleep...?"

If the boy's vision wasn't currently so blurry, he could've sworn his sister smiled for a moment. "You asked for water a couple hours ago, but you konked out again by the time I'd brought it back. You've been in here sleeping for almost a whole day," he heard Gaz say. "Guess they drugged you up a bit, huh?"

Dib nodded slowly. Drugs... that's right, he remembered now. He'd had a mask over his face, a gas mask, right before they started up the surgery-- they told him to count from something, and he only remembered counting three numbers before everything slipped away. A wince now crossed his face as he recalled why he'd had to be there... He quickly changed the subject. "You... you've been here all that time...?"

"Not all the time. Figured I should check in once in a while, though," Gaz said with a shrug. "I didn't want you to wake up with no one here, and it's not like Dad's gonna be around."

Narrowing his eyes, Dib gave her another nod. "You know...? I ended up telling him what happened when he drove me there. Actually came out and told him. And 'you should choose a girl who won't-- 'who doesn't roughhouse so much', was all he said." His face crumpled into a sour frown. "So why do you care so much, all of a sudden?"

Gaz met his unfocused stare, squinting back. "Because I don't like the idea of anyone hurting my brother but me." She turned away slightly, half-spitting the sudden bile in her voice towards a blank spot in the wall, her fist bristling. "And I'd never do anything as bad as what someone's done to you now. You may not feel you can tell anyone who it was right now, but you can be sure, I'm going to find out. And they are going to pay."

Her words ended like they were made of frost itself. Dib fell silent, watching her fist twitch, not daring to say a thing that might make her even angrier. "Um..." he finally mumbled, "Did Zim do anything while I was gone?"

"Heck if I know!" His sister's shoulder's jerked in a shrug, but when Gaz turned back to face him, her eyes had already reverted back to an apathetic stare. "His dog showed up here this morning, but it just stood there and said it forgot what it was supposed to say, then ran away. Something about shutters."

She shook her head at Dib. "Wish I knew why you're always so worried about him. It's not even like he's a threat, like you always say. Why spend so much time stopping someone who can't do anything right already?"

"Why do you keep playing those games of yours?" Dib closed his eyes, laying his head back upon the pillows as if only mumbling his answer tired him out.

Gaz clenched her fists again in a huff. "Why wouldn’t I?! That's the stupidest question I've ever heard!"

"I didn't ask that. Why do you?"

She was about to shout back at Dib again, but stopped mid-fingerpoint. One eye squinted even further into a dark slit as she mulled over the question. "Because it's not like anything else would be out there if I ever stopped playing them! Everyone'd just act stupid and... and make me hate them even more," she replied back, falling silent.

Dib said nothing. A tiny, smug grin curved along his face.

He heard his sister growling, keeping his eyes shut as harsh footsteps clumped towards the door. "I'll come back later," Gaz muttered coldly. "And this doesn't mean you're right, you know." His door slammed shut.

"See you later, Gaz... and thanks," Dib said softly towards the door. He drifted back to sleep within minutes, still smiling.

---

When Dib woke up again, he did so thrashing. Colored dots behind his eyes swirled around into the colors of his bedroom as Gaz finally let go of his nose. He yelped, gasping as he heard his sister's voice: "I'm gonna get supper. What do you want?"

Dib could only wheeze for a moment, reaching up to weakly clutch at his nose. "Why do you keep waking me up like that?!"

Gaz only shrugged. "Just 'cause you're stuck in bed doesn't mean you're not my brother anymore. So is pizza okay?"

Dib laid back against his pillow, sighing. "No. Sounds good, but they said I can't have anything like that. Just liquid stuff. Soup, broth, things like that."

His sister arched an eyebrow. "Well, the meat they use down at Crazy Taco's more like soup anyhow. What about that?"

"No. Can't have anything that might give me gas."

Gaz crossed her arms, glaring at Dib. If she was doing him a favor, this shouldn’t be so complicated! "You can't have anything you could possibly chew? What kind of stupid rules are those?"

Dib shrugged, his face glum. "Dad said they had to give me stitches. I can't do anything that might... well, that'd give me trouble."

A moment or two passed as Gaz watched a slight blush creep up into her brother's face, his gaze drifting away from her. She tilted her head slightly. "So you can't fart, or you'll end up in the hospital again?"

"GAZ!" Dib shouted, trembling a bit in his embarrassment. His sister only made a half-snorting sound in response, as if she were clearing her throat. However, he recognized it... that sound was about the closest thing to a laugh Gaz ever got near. He sulked, clenching his hands into limp fists against the bedcovers. "Yeah, real funny. I'd be laughing too if it wasn't happening."

Gaz quieted down. She didn't apologize, but changing the subject was just as good as an ‘I’m sorry’, she figured. "Okay. Well, they've got those mashed potato things over at Chickylicky's. I could always stop over th--"

"NO!"

Eyes opened in slight shock, Gaz stared back at Dib. Her brother had suddenly paled to a pallid white, his eyes wide open, fixed on what seemed to be some random spot on the ceiling. He began shivering, whimpering a tiny "...no..." again.

Gaz watched the little beads of sweat form on Dib's forehead. She finally said, "Just asking. I mean, you used to like eating at... that place."

Dib sucked in his lower lip, trying to keep tears from falling again. The name! Just that name, that sick chill came back-- he wasn't going to be throw up, no he wasn't, he couldn't... He had to be brave!

He shuddered again, feeling anything but brave. It was almost worse, knowing this feeling could still come back so easily. He wouldn’t be like this forever, would he?

"I just don't like it," he finally said, before retreating back into the sheets.

"Uh... HUH." Gaz finally said. Turning around, she started walking to the doorway. "Well, I'll keep that in mind. I'll be back in a while..."

She thought of adding one of many possible barbs to the sentence, but she figured that for once, Dib probably should get some alone time. Besides, she might've just gotten the information she'd been looking for...

---

"What kind'a chicken you want, lil' missy?"

Gaz squinted at the young woman behind the counter, studying her as if looking through a microscope. "Nothing for me. I'm here for some answers," she replied in her usual monotone.

'Maria', if her nametag was correct, only paused in slight confusion. "Um. Whadd'ya mean by that?" she asked, some sort of country drawl twanging her words.

"You wouldn't have happened to see my brother around here anywhere last week, would you? Bit taller than I am, big glasses, trenchcoat, geeky annoying voice..."

Gaz trailed off at that, intrigued. Maria had just paled like she'd seen a ghost, her mouth open in a silent half-gasp... She suddenly leaned down to Gaz, jostling the fake chicken atop her uniform’s hat. "Listen. I don't know if you came here for a better job, too, but DON'T DO IT. You got that? Just walk away! It's not worth it!"

A sour frown creased Gaz's face. "Oh, I'm not after a job. You seem to know who gave my brother one, though..." She leaned in closer, standing on her tip-toes to fix Maria with a burning glare. "And you're going to tell me who this person was. Right now, or you'll get a taste of what I'm going to give them."

Strangely, this lady didn't seem to be intimidated by Gaz's dooming display. "HORRIBLE. Suffering," Gaz added, not letting Maria see any hint of surprise...

Maria hesitated, tapping the counter with uneasy fingers, before she finally leaned down closer to Gaz. "His name's Eric. He's over in the men's bathroom right now, on cleanin' duty, but...” Her voice lowered, eyes darting back and forth towards the restrooms. “I dun'no how t'put this... I don't want a girl your age goin' after someone like him alone!"

Gaz remained still. "I'll take ten minutes, tops. If I'm not back by then and you're worried, you can come after me."

"Oh, I can, huh? Well, who's s'posed to watch the counter while you're doin' that, missy?" Maria leaned down closer to the girl, narrowing her eyes at this obviously naive kid.

The quiet sounds of footsteps and creaking chairs didn't even register as Maria kept her gaze fixed on the girl before her. When Gaz finally answered with a calm "No problem," Maria could only do a double-take at the suddenly empty restaurant. She looked back at the girl, her eyes wide in an unspoken HOW?!

Gaz smiled smugly at this expected reaction. "So, the men's room, huh?" The lady behind the counter nodded, her face still blank, so Gaz proceeded on towards the twin doors nearby. No sense wasting time on the easily dazed, she figured.

If she was the curious type, Gaz might sometimes have wondered to herself where these sudden flashes of luck came from. Why did everything seem to go right for her, and only her, if she got mad enough?

Of course, she never lingered over such thoughts when there was work to do. Even fate knew when not to piss her off even further, it seemed.

It didn't take long to reach the men's' bathroom. No one was inside but Gaz and her prey; the days' worth of boiling anger inside her at the moment seemed to ensure it. Her footsteps echoed with thunder against the tile, halting at the sound of frustrated muttering... "Come ON! Shouldn't be this much trouble--!"

A few steps further, and Gaz stopped before an open toilet stall door. She squinted her icy glare at the uniformed older man before her, as he obliviously wrestled with a plunger. Only the wooden handle could be seen. If his thrashing tugs were any clue, the rest was apparently stuck fast in the bowl of a burbling toilet.

The thoughts of her revenge snapped themselves into the perfect plan. Standing there, unnoticed, Gaz allowed herself a quiet grin.

"Excuse me." Her flat tone showed no apology.

The man flinched, letting go of the plunger handle. He spun around, surprised at this sudden newcomer. The purple-haired girl stood there, not moving, just staring. He shivered, then muttered a cold "You shouldn't be in here, little girl..."

Silence. She may have had her eyes squinted, almost closed, but Eric swore this girl's eyes were still fixed right on him.

Finally, she spoke, in a voice that seemed wrongly cheerful for the face of stone it was coming from. “You should watch out. Toilets can break, you know. It could get really... bad.”

Eric frowned. This kid must be out of her mind... “What the heck are you babbling about, huh? G’wan. Get out!”

Gaz stepped closer, her voice suddenly sounding far less happy. “This is about my brother. I think you know him real well. Better than he ever wanted you to.”

At this, Eric’s frown grew into a flat line across his face. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!”

“He ended up in the hospital, you know.” The girl’s fists tightened. “And I’m more sure than anything you do know about this. He’s worried sick that whoever it was could do something horrible if he said anything. He didn’t say it was you, but believe me, if you don’t tell me the truth, he’ll never worry about you being able to move your mouth for the rest of your life.”

Without pausing to think, Eric glowered and shot back a reply. “And why should I be worried about what a couple of kids could ever do, huh?” He stopped in a dead halt, his eyes bugging out slightly at what might’ve been more proof than this psycho brat felt she needed for... for whatever she was here for. Eric glanced around at the stall walls around him, even as he cursed himself for worrying at all. The space between him and this kid suddenly seemed far too close for his liking.

But nothing happened. Nothing he could see, anyhow. The girl simply kept looking at him, nodding her head slightly.

The echoing memory of Dib’s wordless sobs were all Gaz could hear by now, but she let none of her anger show. Keeping it inside, she felt it boil behind her face with every pulse of her body. He’d said enough. He knew, she was sure of it-- even if she wasn’t one hundred percent sure, it made no difference. Her rage at this point seemed thick enough to bite down on.

She’d felt this way before. Whether it had been triggered on a skool kid, that annoying Iggins, even Dib himself-- she knew what this meant. This man before her was as good as doomed.

And with that, Gaz began walking away, as if she had never seen him. As he paused, surprised, Eric heard her voice calling back to him.

“Fine then. ‘Bye.”

The bathroom door swung shut.

Eric slumped against the stall wall, confused as to what had just happened. He looked down at the plunger again as if it might give him an answer, then grabbed it, frowning to himself. What do I care? Not like I have anything to worry about anyway, he thought. Stupid crazy brat.

He froze where he stood just then, as the realization came.

...Was it him, or did that noise the clogged toilet was making just get louder?

---

Gaz returned to the counter, nodding to Maria and continuing on towards the entrance. She didn’t show any sign of stopping until Maria leaned over the counter. “Heya, there, whoa now! What’s goin’ on?” As Gaz paused and looked back at her silently, she added, “What happened?”

“It’s all taken care of,” the purple-haired girl said, a small smile on her face.

Maria opened her mouth to ask more, but as she did so, as if on cue, another person entered the restaurant. The customer, a scruffy-looking fellow who seemed to be smuggling several interesting odors along with the leaves in his beard, stomped up to the counter and began yelling without a moment’s pause. “I got your delivery ten minutes ago and you forgot my SLAW again!”

Maria cringed. This guy was almost a regular, for all the times he’d barge in for shouting matches over food he may or may not have ordered that day... Whether any more customers came in or not, this guy’s usual arguing could take forever. So much for trying to catch that girl, Maria groaned to herself.

Gaz let the door slam behind her. The short clatter was enough to startle both Maria and the ranting customer, if for only a second or two.

...Just enough time for them to hear a man’s voice call out in surprise from down the hall, drowned out as the sound of wrenching metal and wet splatters began.

---

The moon had already begun to show in the sky when Gaz arrived back home. She turned the front door’s knob with one hand and pried it open with a foot, maneuvering a large paper sack through the door and up the stairs to Dib’s room. “I got Chinese,” she announced as she came in. “They had soup, too, so I...”

She stopped where she stood, raising an eyebrow. “Dad? What are you doing home?”

“Hoh hoh! Hello there, daughter!” Professor Membrane turned and waved a gloved hand at Gaz from his seat upon Dib’s bedside. Dib looked up as well, showing a rather unenthusiastic smile. “Doppler and I--”

“Dib, Dad,” sighed Dib, rolling his eyes. “Doppler was the dog, remember?”

“Of course! Ah, how foolish of me. Dib and I were just sharing a little father-son chat!” Membrane struck a dramatic, fingerpointing pose, as if the television cameras so often around him were still recording. Gaz looked over at Dib, who stared back pleadingly at her.

“Sounds neat, Dad,” Gaz lied, shifting the grease-smeared bag in her hands. “Anyhow, I picked up supper. I think Dib needs to eat by now. You can talk later.”

“That’s a great idea, daughter! Ah, what a wonderful, caring family I’ve raised!” Membrane beamed, standing and striding over to the door. He paused, adding, “Well, I should get down to the lab anyhow. If I don’t see you two by next week, remember to do your homework!”

“We will...” Dib and Gaz chimed, with all the chipperness of lines rehearsed for years on end. With that, Professor Membrane made his exit, head held merrily aloft.

Gaz set the take-out bag on the bedside, squinting over at Dib. “So. Any major damage?”

“With what, his pep talk? ...Not as bad as I’d thought it was going to be,” Dib said. He leaned up slowly, relishing being able to feel his arms again. “He was saying how the emergency room staff told him they’d keep the-- um, all the evidence they took...” He shuddered. “...for a month, if we decide to press charges against my attacker. After that, they throw it away.”

“You want to try suing the guy?” Gaz asked, impish curiosity flitting across her face.

Dib shrugged, giving a weary shake of his head. “I just don’t know anymore... I’m already so sick of it all. I don’t want to think that far yet. And Dad-- well, he was no help, either. Kept asking if I’d broken up with my girlfriend.” He frowned, but the sudden convulsions Gaz was half expecting him to break into never came. “I just said yes, to get him to shut up about it. I’ve been thinking about... about that... almost the whole time I’ve been here in bed. And the hospital said I’d have to go back a few more times, to make sure I didn’t get a disease or anything... I don’t need him going on about it, too!”

His fingers began clenching into the blankets around him as he spoke, his expression all but unreadable. “I mean, it’s not just that... that it happened. I was thinking it over, wondering if there was anyone I could try reporting it to. But how can I know if I can trust anyone anymore? I don’t even want to step out the front door after all this!”

Dib stole a glance over to his computer console, wincing to himself at the Swollen Eyeball logo he’d painted on the side of his PC case. The idea that Darkbootie might have known beforehand just what Eric was capable of-- not to mention how many other Agents shared such tendencies!-- popped back into his mind, like it had many times lately... how proud Dib had been of that elite membership of his, just a short time ago!

“I mean, who knows how many more people are like that?” he continued, hardly noticing anymore that he was thinking out loud. “I didn’t have any idea what was gonna happen... If anyone right off the sidewalk might want to try doing something that horrible to me, if I’m stupid enough to ever try trusting them-- or who knows?! Maybe I actually did want it! I didn’t fight hard enough to stop it from happening, so what if I just don’t want to admit it...”

He let his head rest back against his pillow, staring up at the neon star-constellations pasted up on his ceiling. “Who’d ever care about aliens like Zim being dangerous if everybody’s really like that, deep inside?”

“You’re talking again,” Gaz remarked.

Dib stopped at the sound of her voice, leaning up enough to give her a tired smile. “Yeah, I bet you’re thrilled about that.”

Gaz only crossed her arms. This thought Dib was bringing up... she hadn’t even considered that all she’d done tonight wouldn’t change a thing for him. Almost by instinct, she squashed that possibly disturbing train of thought where it began and changed the subject.

“Dad’s never come up to see me when I’ve been sick,” she said flatly. She opened the bag and rustled through it, bringing her own food out first and setting it before her, course by slow-moving course.

Dib raised a cautious eyebrow at Gaz’s sudden calmness. For her, acting blank like that could mean she was thinking anything... He mulled over his thoughts carefully this time before he spoke. “Um... sorry, I guess... although, really, I don’t know what’s so great about it. I mean, it’s great he even showed up, but-- well, it’s almost like I wish he’d keep his mouth shut and just sit there. Every time he starts talking, it’s like listening to him practice a speech...”

He stopped, as Gaz handed him a foam cup of soup. “If you keep talking, your wonton’s gonna get cold,” she said, squinting from behind guarded eyes.

Dib nodded, reading this as a cue to shut up for a while. Which was just as well... he wasn’t sure what to say anyhow. Days and days of hearing nothing but his own inner thoughts had made him weary of repeating it all even more, much less try to bundle it all together and talk about it coherently. Seems Gaz doesn’t want to hear about it, either, he thought as his sister silently handed him a plastic spoon and started on her own meal. Guess I can’t blame her.

The two of them ate in relative silence. Every few moments, the pair would start a back-and-forth chase of watching each other’s face, until they realized they were both staring at each other and quickly darted their attentions back to their supper.

Finally, after the uncomfortable stagnance seemed to have grown thicker than the steam of their Chinese food, Dib’s curiosity broke the silence. “So, um. Were the restaurants closed early tonight? Just wondering... Seemed like you took a while to get back.”

Gaz halted at this, her chopsticks frozen right in front of her open mouth. Unsure of whether he hadn’t just irritated her, Dib added, “Everything okay, I mean...?” He retreated back to blowing at his spoonful of soup.

“Just needed to take care of some junk first,” Gaz said. She downed the noodles before her, then added, “I think you’re gonna like this one. Just trust me.”

Dib blinked, curious, but not curious enough to risk any possible chance of Gaz going back to how she usually treated him-- that is, through punches and threatened stranglings. He murmured an “oh... kayy,” giving as neutral an expression as he could. When she began chuckling darkly, Dib’s only response was to stay quiet, keep sipping his soup, and hope for the best.

---

Later that night, Gaz returned to her brother’s room, a pillow from the living room couch in her hand. A swift bat to Dib’s head from the pillow proved to be enough to wake him up; he sputtered his surprise from the impact, then looked over to Gaz, relaxing somewhat.

“Well, it’s better than plugging my nose, I’ll say that,” he mumbled.

Gaz only asked, “Mysterious Mysteries is almost on, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” said Dib, lifting an arm from his bedsheets to check his watch. “Guess I dozed off again.” He winced, casting a glance to the Swollen Eyeballs logo on his nearby laptop. “I don’t know if I really need to watch it, though. I haven’t been as interested in that stuff lately.”

This wasn’t the answer Gaz wanted to hear. “Yes. You DO want to catch tonight’s episode. You’re coming downstairs right now, and we’re going to watch TV.” Her eyes squinted tighter in an unspoken threat.

Dib quickly nodded his head. That was enough of a hint for him. “I, um... I might need a bit of help getting downstairs, is all.”

Gaz hmphed an approval. “Good. Come on.” She held out a hand, half-dragging him along until he was seated next to her on the ‘family couch’ (as the two of them sarcastically referred to it).

“You know, it’s not going to start for a little while yet,” Dib said, as Gaz toyed with the television remote. Gaz only kept idly flipping channels, stopping as she came across the nightly WHUH broadcast.

“...other news tonight, a freak accident involving a sewage line bursting in a local fast food restaurant killed one man early this afternoon...”

Dib jumped to full attention. He watched on, his expression unreadable, as the TV screen played a few moments of footage from inside that familiar Chickylicky’s building. Now it was a complete shambles, at least where the cameras were aimed. A whole section of hallway was sectioned off with police tape, dark stains still splattered all over the walls. In his surprise, he only heard the announcer mention the word “Eric”, as a photograph of the man himself came up in the corner of the screen.

He was still staring at the screen until the next report, an exposé about deadly strawberry farming practices, when he heard his sister’s voice call his name. Dib turned to see Gaz sitting with a stoic expression on her face. “I got the right one, didn’t I?”

Dib only nodded, half in a daze. His gaze was cold, staring on beyond his sister, as if he wasn’t sure what to think. He just sat there, a strange mix of relief and sorrow twisting through to his features.

The memory of their earlier talk echoed through Gaz’s mind, taunting her.

...how can I know if I can trust anyone anymore?

...who knows how many more people are like that?

...what if I just don’t want to admit it...?

Gaz drew in a hesitant breath and continued, her squinted eyes darkening. “And it doesn’t really matter anyhow, does it?”

Dib paused. He opened his mouth, starting to speak... then blinked, finally letting the tears fall from his eyes. His hands darted to his face, wiping away the wetness, but all he could do was shrug, almost mimicking Gaz’s usual responses.

The pair sat there, neither of them daring to speak first. The droning chatter of the news broadcaster went on about car crashes and stock prices, filling in the chilled silence hanging between the siblings.

“I just want to know,” Gaz started, after her curiosity eventually got the better of her anger. “Even if I don’t ever figure out anything else about this whole mess, I want to know. What were you even going to do with all that money you got from him, anyhow?”

“Oh, yeah, that...” Dib sighed, shaking his head. “I still don’t even want to touch any of those bills. Well, Dad never really gave me an allowance, so I was just trying to get s--”

“You went and did that because Dad didn’t-- oh, DIB!” interrupted Gaz, her voice hardly covering up her sudden rage. She shook her head in disbelief, clenching her teeth as she tried desperately not to hit her brother for sheer stupidity.

“What?! What’d I--” Dib’s eyes went wide with fear.

“Where did you think I come up with the money for all my games? I just keep telling Dad I have to go see my counselor again!” Gaz sunk her head into her hands, her anger now fading into simple pity. “You must’ve heard me do that at least once! Didn’t you ever get it?”

Now it was Dib’s turn to look shocked.

As he slowly slumped against the couch, Gaz remarked, “I suppose you’d be telling the truth if you use that trick now, but...”

The piercing chime of the front doorbell interrupted them. Gaz growled, muttering a “Just stay here!” command to Dib as she marched with rigid, angry strides off the couch, out of the room, and over to the front door of the Membrane abode. She swung the door open, declaring loudly, “If this is another Kid Scout selling cookies, you’re gonna get your stinking legs ripped off--”

She stopped in mid-threat, blinking at the bright green puppy smiling back at her.

Unfazed, Gaz turned to shout towards the living room. “Dib! It’s for you again!”

---

“So, let me get this straight. Zim told you to come here, and wrote you instructions for what to say, but you ate the note on the way over...?”

Dib peered out at GIR through the doorway, with Gaz still sulking nearby in the kitchen. Neither sibling bothered to hide their annoyance. Even though they both had no idea what to say to each other at the moment, being interrupted by someone who was even less able to express themselves coherently wasn’t much help.

“Nooooonono, silly silly Dibby!” GIR giggled. It reached into some unseen pocket to produce a slip of paper, mauled with small gnaw-marks here and there along the sides. The robot handed the paper over to Dib, adding, “I didn’a eat it all... it tastes like feet anyhow!”

Dib winced a bit at the drool still dangling from the page, but read the note anyway. In a scrawly script that resembled a third-grader’s handwriting, it read:

YOURE PATHETICK PLAN TO DEFEET ME WILL FALE, IRTH SCUM!
LETS SEE HOW STRONG YOU ARE WITHOUT
YOURE MYTEE “SHUTTERS” TO HYD BEHIND!
TELL MY SERFF SERVEN
GIR WHEN AND WHEIR OUR BATTEL WILL BEE.
YOURE DOOM SHALL BE QUIK AND PAYNFULL!!!!

Dib raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what he’s even talking about here.”

GIR’s ears drooped sadly. “But... but my master, he’s gonna be really mad, if I don’t come back to tell him what he wants me t’tell him! ‘Specially ‘cause I stopped to pick up tacos last time, and he hates those poor widdle munchy tacos... and I love those tacos SOOO much!” The robot’s disguised eyes widened in a way that could only be described as The Cute Puppy Look.

While Dib stood there, still confused, Gaz slowly opened a squinted eye. An idea was dawning... She rushed back from her eavesdropping spot in the kitchen, her gaze fixed on the green dog in the doorway. “You said Zim hates tacos?”

“I did?” asked GIR, blinking dimly at her.

“Yes you did,” Gaz shot back, not missing a beat. “Why does he hate tacos? Is it the meat?” She turned to her brother. “Meat burns his skin off, doesn’t it?”

Dib nodded, now even more hopelessly baffled. It took him a moment to figure it out, but when realization finally came, his face lit up with an impish smile that even Gaz would be proud of. “That’s right, isn’t it? Hey, Gir! What would you say if we gave you the money to buy all the tacos you’d ever want?”

GIR’s eyes nearly sparkled. “Really?!” he squeaked, waggling his puppy-arms with glee.

“I’ll go get them,” said Gaz, nodding to Dib as she started up the stairs to his bedroom.

Dib’s smile widened as he watched her go. He spoke to GIR again, starting to feel happier than he had in far, far too long a time: “You know, Gir, maybe the problem is that Zi-- uh, your master, just doesn’t know how good tacos can be. I can give you the money to go and buy thousands of them!”

He leaned his head down closer to GIR, who stared back in rapt, wide-eyed attention. This human was talking about tacos, after all! “If you buy all those tacos, you could spread them all over the floors of your master’s house, and his base, too... even use them as wallpaper! And he might learn to like tacos, then. Does that sound like a good idea?”

“THE BEST!!” screeched the puppybot, who was practically shaking with joy. “Oh master’s all wrong about you, Dibby human thingie-- I luvvles you!”

Gaz returned just then with the fistful of bills, looking over at Dib with a final, questioning glance. When he nodded, she tossed the money over to GIR, who gave a merry, cackling giggle. “Okeeee I’m gonna go now thanks so much and BYEEEE!” The robot hopped back through the door, the footpads of its suit making cute squeaking noises as it skipped along the sidewalk and into the night.

The two siblings stood there, watching GIR bounce out from their view. Dib finally shut the front door, brushing his hands together with a smugly added, “A job well done! Thanks a bunch for that idea, Gaz!”

His sister shrugged, trying to hide a smirk. “Mhh, Zim’s a jerk. I just hope the thing takes photos of the whole mess.” She paused, as if waiting for Dib to say something else, but when he stayed silent, she added, “So. Did you think it was worth it?”

Dib’s smile faded as he looked off to the kitchen, his mind obviously focused somewhere else. “The whole thing? No... and I guess there’s nothing I can really do about that.” He crossed his arms and itched his hand up along a shirtsleeve, the lamplight of the room reflecting dull against his glasses as he sighed. A faint smirk tugged along the edge his mouth. “But for right now, I’m actually looking forward to what shape Zim’s going to be in at skool tomorrow.”

Gaz nodded solemnly. “Well, guess it’s all I could expect.” She tipped a thumb towards the direction of the living room. “I’m gonna go play Blood Sucking Horror 3 some more. Are you supposed to go to bed early now, or what?”

“Nah, not just yet. Mind if I watch you play for a while?” asked Dib, smiling.

“I s’pose,” Gaz mumbled, as the two started their way down the hall.

As they reached the living room, Dib carefully settled himself onto the couch as Gaz turned on the TV. “Thanks for everything, by the way,” he said, watching her punch the power button on one of the many game consoles clustered near the television set. “It’s a lot better, knowing I’m not gonna be alone.”

Gaz took a controller and hopped onto the other side of the couch. “Whatever. You’re still my brother.” Pressing the start button, she squinted at the TV screen, adding, “So if you’re gonna keep talking through my game right now, I’m still gonna doom you.”

Dib nodded. “Fair enough.”

He watched in silence as she started her way through the game’s demon-filled terrain, blasting through everything in sight. He closed his eyes... For whatever it was worth, right now, things felt a bit more normal again.

The blasting sounds of gunfire echoed from the TV. Dib’s head nodded gently as he faded into sleep...


-----