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Memory Burns	By : sickindulgence Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 3211 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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"Dad!" I'm running down the stairs. I have socks on and I feel the carpeting beneath them. "I got him Dad! I got him now!"

I'm running to my father. He's in the lab, always. I skid to a halt in the doorway and I see him at the bench. He's fiddling with some vials of colored liquids. The floor is cold but I hardly notice. I have Polaroids in my hands.

"Hey, Dad!" He doesn't look up.

"What is it son?" Green liquid into blue.

"I have proof now! Zim is an alien and here's the proof!" I'm waving the pictures at him.

"Son, how many times am I going to ask you to drop this insane paranormal business?"

"But I've got proof now, really! Please, you've got to believe me! No one's ever believed me-"

"Because it's nonsense!" Facing me. "And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you can start working on something worthwhile."

"But…but Zim's really an alien and he's going to destroy the Earth! Isn't it worthwhile to stop him?"

He's down on one knee. He takes the pictures. He's not even looking at them. Kshhhhht. Pieces on the floor.

"Now Dib, you've got to listen to me. I want you to stop all this right now. You're thirteen years old, you need to focus your studies on something useful." Grabs my arms, below my shoulders. He's strong. I can feel him clutching me through his gloves and my coat I always wear. "Drop it now, do you hear me? Anything else, anything."

I'm looking at him. The goggles obscure his eyes. I never know what color they are. I start to shake. He is huge, I am small. The lab coat is so white it hurts to look at it. And I don't know what his eyes look like. In my mind, there are no eyes, just great black endless holes of nothingness.

What could I say?

"Okay, Dad. I'll do something else."

Waking up was like swimming up from the bottom of a pool after you realize you've stayed down too long. It was achingly slow, and he felt that every breath was a labor. In....out...in...out. He made his way to the surface of reality. There was no panic though. Maybe it wasn’t even worth it to keep going. It was warm here. It was quiet. Did he really want to wake up, just to come back to all the old problems? He could breathe, he was cozy…maybe he could just stay? Of course, Dib realized by this time since he'd become cognizant enough to think these thoughts, he was pretty much awake anyway. Resigned, he opened his eyes.

The first thing he noticed was that Gaz was there, sitting next to him, stoic as always. The second was that his left arm was in a pretty extensive cast and that the reason his breathing was so labored was because he was bandaged tight around his chest. Using his good hand, he touched his face. Maybe a scrape but his nose was still in place.

"You're lucky you aren't dead." Gaz handed him a pair of glasses. They felt different than his normal ones, but looked the same. "The airbag went off and broke your other ones. These are the ones from when you were in skool." Dib slipped them on, noticing the prescription was weak but he could at least see pretty normally.

"Thanks, sis." His voice felt weird. "How long was I out?" Raspy.

"Half a day." Gaz looked at him fiercely. "You were drunk."

"I was not! I couldn't sleep, and I saw this thing in the sky-"

"Shut up!" She jumped up from her chair, eyes wild. "I know you, Dib. When shit gets rough you crawl right into the bottle! You were fucking plastered, and you tried to get away with it only this time, THIS TIME you didn't know road from sidewalk! Fucking moron!" She soundly smacked the side of his head.

"OW."

Gaz collapsed back into her seat, breathing hard. "I can't...Dib you cannot be this way, not now. I will not bury my father and my brother in the same week. I will kill you myself first." Dib felt his chest tighten and hurt. She was right, he HAD been too drunk to be driving. What the hell had he been thinking?

He looked at his sister. She was the truly innocent party in all this. As abrasive as she was, she had done nothing wrong, and was actually a good person, when she allowed others to see it. Dib steeled himself, and made a silent vow to be less of a fuckup for her, though he didn't know if he would be able to hold up to that promise. He looked over to her. Staring off into space, she never cried. He didn't think she'd cried at the funeral either. What strength must flow through her body, he knew it was be immense.

"Gaz, I saw something in the sky."

She looked at him derisively. "Give it a break."

"No really, I did! That's why I crashed!" Her eyes flashed with anger again and he quickly added, "But you're right. I'd done some drinking, and shouldn't' t have been in the car. But I know what I saw, it was real! This green fireball rising to the stratosphere!"

Gaz rolled her eyes. "So what? It was probably a borealis or maybe some St. Elmo's fire." Dib was shaking his head.

"We aren't far enough north for a borealis and there was no thunderstorm for the fire. It was something else, and I need to know what." Dib tried to remember it clearly, but his memory was hazy. It was huge and green, not a meteor or swamp gas. The mystery of it gnawed at his brain like a worm in an apple, and he felt some of his old spark, his thirst for knowledge, return to him after several days of self-induced coma. He looked at Gaz, who just shrugged.

"Fine, it's probably some weird space phenomena. Why are you so interested anyway? I thought you gave up on space stuff when you were a kid." Dib shook his head.

"Maybe so, but I'm still a journalist aren't I? Being interested is my fucking JOB.”

And so in a day they released him, giving him plenty of extra Percocet and strict instructions to not do any strenuous work for the sake of his ribs. Dib promised he would not, having no intention of following through. Gaz drove him home and helped him set up a way for him to shower with the cast on (this involved a trash bag and rubber bands).

"I'll be back tonight with some food. DON'T do anything stupid, I'm not dragging your ass back to the hospital because you thought you could rearrange your living room." Dib chuckled.

"Sure thing, sis. I've been meaning to catch up on my Tivo anyway." Dib waved as she left. As soon as the door clicked, he grabbed the phone.

"Uh-huh...sure I'll wait..." Dib held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, and ran a coin up and down the knuckles of his good hand. Four hours of calling up observatories and meteorological related establishments had allowed him time to perfect this lost art. Unfortunately, the people he talked to had either not been surveying that particular part of the sky that night, or those who did hadn't recorded anything unusual on their instruments.

"Hi, oh...yeah...it was pretty clear that night...around three o'clock...Really, nothing at all? Not even a shooting star or something? Huh..okay..no, I already called them...alright I'll talk to you later then...yes, it was very sudden...thank you, I'll let her know. Goodbye."

He hung up on the last observatory he had found in the area, and briefly considered if his dad had had any contacts in NASA he could talk to as well. Never mind, this line of questioning was getting him nowhere.

He crossed off the last number on his list. He knew he wasn't crazy, he'd actually seen something, apparently something no one else had seen. He scanned his vidscreen with wireless internet for any mention of green balls of fire, but he didn't see anything promising.

"Maybe if I try some space message boards..."

You're being stupid, you know EXACTLY who you should be talking to. Pick up the damn phone. Dib frowned and dropped the vidscreen on the bed, where he was reclining.

"There is NO WAY I'm going to get in touch with that guy. He was crazy then and I bet he's crazy now. Besides, I don't think he even lives in this town anymore." Dib spoke to his bedroom haughtily. "Anyway, he hasn't kicked up a fuss in YEARS. I bet he left Earth a long time ago when he realized I was too much of a challenge. Heh." He tried to cross his arms, and was met with sharp pain from his elbow down.

"Owwww...why did I do that?" Dib looked over and grabbed some of his pills, popping two. If only this were Vicoden, I could pretend I'm House and figure out this mystery. Course, House had a team of doctors to help him and he was a genius. Also, it was a TV show with writers and stuff. In real life, things were a lot harder.

Sighing, he picked up his vidscreen and searched for Zim's old number, certain it would no longer be in use. The number for his house was in the Zim folder he had kept from when he was chasing him. Dib smiled. He remembered he would prank call him when they were younger by pretending to be a CIA agent. Good times.

Quickly, he dialed, certain he would get that tone, and after it "the number you have dialed is not in service" message.

Ring...ring...ring...

*click*

"Hello, you have reached the residence of Clancy J. Zimmerman, may I ask who is calling?"

Dib was taken aback. Not only was this number still in use, it was correct. He'd heard that voice many times as a child...

"GIR? Is it you GIR?" Silence on the other end. "Hello?"

"...Yessss?" GIR giggled. Dib heard the phone drop to the carpet and GIR's voice, father away.

"MASTER!! IT'S THAT FUNNY BOY!!! WHEEEE."

Softly, "GIR! GIR be quiet now, who is it? Tell them to go away."

"But Masterrrrr, it's for you."

"If it's that damn video store again..." The phone was picked up. "Hello, Clancy here."

Dib couldn't suppress a snort. "Clancy, man? Seriously, you couldn't come up with something less lame?"

Dib could almost hear Zim's eyes narrowing. "So, DIB-human. We cross paths once more. Calling to admit your defeat?"

"Defeat? Of what?" Dib sneered, feeling the old rivalry, like reading from an old well rehearsed play. Here they were, saying their lines again.

"Of you to get rid of me! I'm still on this blasted rock of a planet and I'm still a threat to your species. I AM ZIM!" Dib jerked the phone away from his ears as Zim loudly cackled.

"Actually, Zim, I was wondering if I could get some information from you."

Zim balked. "NEVER."

"Aw, c'mon Zim, it's not like I'm going to ask about all the secret plans that I'm sure you're going to implement someday. It's about a visual phenomena-"

"Silence your noise-hole, filth. There is absolutely, positively, no freakin way I'm going to tell you anything about whatever it is you're talking about."

"But Zim, this has nothing to do with you, that doesn't make sense!"

"Did you forget we are ENEMIES? Even if you came over here and tortured me I would tell you nothing!"

Dib sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He should have expected that Zim would do his best to keep any facts he could from Dib, whether it was useful to the alien or not.

Dib ran a hand through his hair. He was too tired. "Okay Zim, guess I'll talk to you some other time then. Bye." He was about to put the phone down when he heard a tiny "Wait!" from it.

"What?" Dib picked it up again.

"Sooo, just so we're clear...you aren't planning on attacking my base any time soon?

Dib groaned. "I grew out of that a long time ago, Zim."

"Oh..." Silence on the other end. "In that case...uh...ZIM..was wondering..ehh...do you like pancakes?"

Unexpected, so Dib was silent for a moment. "...yeah?"

"EXCELLENT! We shall meet at Red's Diner tomorrow morning. Tell and bring no one."

"Uh...okaaay...what for?"

"All questions will be answered...with PANCAKES." And with that, there was a click of the receiver hanging up. Dib sat for a moment, stunned, looking at the phone in his hand. Irritated, he dropped it onto the bed.

Jerk. Bet he just needed an excuse to hang up on ME.

Pretty soon, Gaz came back with Bloaty's Pizza and Dib fell asleep watching reruns of Family Guy, his stomach full of food and drugs. Silently, she searched and confiscated all the alcohol in the apartment and poured the remnants down the drain. Just as quietly, she left.
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Memory Burns