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Hope	By : LadyNephero Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 1600 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor do I make any money from this work.

Chapter List
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Dib gave a start, shaken out of a surprisingly deep sleep as the bus hit a pothole. He cleared his throat a bit, subtly wiping at his mouth to rid it of any traces of drool. His sleep hadn’t improved much; it seemed like every time he tried to catch more than a quick nap, he saw himself staring right back and Dib swore the sounds of flies would drive him mad one of these days.
                He shifted in his seat and cracked his back, stiff as it was from the odd sleeping position. No one else on the sparsely populated bus seemed to pay him any mind, but Dib preferred it that way. He was really in no mood to try and be social, not when they had reported their findings back to the Network. Instead of being pulled back home, it looked like their stay would be extended, and Dib really just was not looking forward to seeing anything like the Wilson crime scene ever again.
                At the very least, it was becoming rapidly clear that they weren’t dealing with a run-of-the-mill serial murderer. Even Williams had stopped scoffing whenever he saw the two agents, and Dib had noticed a distinct drop in whispering by the officers of the town. They all seemed to know that something weird was going on, and there was a suspension of disbelief until the entire thing was closed.
                As it was, the two agents had had very little to do after their initial investigation. Lab results had come back showing that nothing on the scene belonged to Mrs. Wilson, just as they had feared. But without any kind of jurisdiction, he and Nazca were forced to step out of the way until their advisory role was needed again.
                Dib didn’t mind so much. The stress of it all was starting to take its toll, and while he kept up a brave face for Nazca, the nightmares kept coming and got worse each time. A little break was in order, and he took the opportunity to take the bus into the city to visit Gaz. He had tried to get Nazca to come along, but she had just shaken her head, saying she would stick to the hotel in case Williams needed her.
                So he had bought a ticket for himself, and caught the first bus he could get. He had attempted to get in touch with his sister a few times, but wasn’t able to do more than leave a message that he would be arriving around noon the following day. He wasn’t entirely sure where his sister lived, and hoped she got the voicemail before he showed up.
                His worries seemed to be unfounded, however, when he stepped off the bus and saw a familiar shock of magenta hair in the depot’s parking lot. Gaz was seated on the hood of a beat-up old Honda, her arms folded over her chest and looking bored out of her mind. This wasn’t anything too new, his little sister’s apathy had been her best known trait ever since she was small. Still, Dib couldn’t help but smile when he saw her, and despite any protests she might have made, he grabbed her into a tight hug.
                She shoved at him, playfully, and pushed her sunglasses up onto the top of her head. Matching brown eyes met his, and her mouth quirked into something of a smile. Or a smirk. Dib still wasn’t sure about the difference, when it came to Gaz.
                “Welcome home, asshole. Think you can give me more than 24 hours notice next time you wanna shove your big head into my life?”
                “My head’s not big. And I didn’t exactly know I could make it until I did. We’re kind of… on call for something.”
                “Yeah, yeah, I know that song.” Dib tried to protest further, but Gaz shoved at his shoulder. “Calm down, I’m just busting your balls. Did you get a chance to eat?”
                “Not really. I kind of slept through the one rest stop we got.”
                “Nice. Well, I’m fuckin’ starved, so we’re gonna stop on the way back. How long do you have?”
                “No idea. My uh, partner, she’ll call if I need to come back.”
                “Ooh, ‘she’? And you haven’t scared her off yet? Progress.” Gaz gave him a grin even as they slid into the seats of the car, and Dib did his best not to flush bright red.
                “Shut the hell up, Gazline.”
                “I’m just sayin’, Dibby, I’m starting to question a few things about you, is all. It’s not all that bad, I know a few guys who MIGHT think you’re cute.”
                “Gee, thanks.” Dib huffed, and got an elbow in his ribcage for it. He snorted a bit, unable to help a little laugh, even if it was at his own expense. The siblings rode in silence for a little while, Gaz turning corners faster than Dib could process them. Not when he was too busy trying not to have a heart attack. Somewhere, in the blur of their travels, he frowned out the window.
                “Razzi’s burned down? When did that happen?”
                “Eh, a couple years ago, I think. Real shame, they made a good pizza. If you could ignore the sanitation violations.”
                “I think you could ignore anything if the slice is good enough.” Dib shuddered a bit, remembering all too well the last time he had been in the pizza parlor. It was years ago, one of the furthest memories he still had after his “swamp monster incident,” and it wasn’t a pleasant one. He still had trouble looking at cockroaches.
                “Eh.” His sister shrugged, and suddenly hit the brakes, just in time to make the entrance to the Krazy Taco drive-thru. Dib gripped his seat on instinct, and let out a breath when they came to a stop mere inches from the back bumper of the other car.
                “How the hell is it that you’re so damn good at driving games, but you’re shit at actual DRIVING?”
                “I’d like to remind you which one of us was actually able to GET a license before they were twenty.” Gaz replied, raising one black eyebrow at him. Dib narrowed his eyes at her.
                “I thought we were in agreement that we would never speak of that again.”
                “I don’t know, Dibby, the way I hear it, the instructor is still in therapy for psychological trauma.”
                “Fuck you,” Dib snorted, just as Gaz pulled up to the loudspeaker and rolled down her window.
                “Stop whining and tell me what you want.”
                “I dunno, a burrito, I guess. Oh, wait, no, carne asada fries!”
                “Okay, okay.” Gaz turned away from him long enough to shout the order into the worn out speaker, something warbled coming right back at them. “Did you hear the total?”
                “Not a clue.”
                “Ah well.” Gaz took her foot off the brake, and Dib clenched at his seat for the two seconds it took for her to peel around to the first window, much to the terror of the cashier working there. Dib dug into his pocket for his share, his own crisp bills joining Gaz’s crumpled ones before being handed off to the cashier. Gaz handed off the bag to Dib, and before he had a chance to do more than take it, they were off, very narrowly dodging a car backing out of its parking space.
                Gaz pulled back onto the highway, her boot slamming down onto the accelerator to get them up to speed. Dib wondered if he might not survive the trip as cars switched lanes and then those lanes merged, but soon they were pulling down a smaller road. The city traffic died down the further they went, until it was only the slow trickle of suburbia. Dib looked around in curiousity, noting the little one-story houses and honestly impressed.
                Or at least he was until Gaz pulled into a long, unkempt driveway. Dib frowned at the dilapidated house and the brown yard, the only one that was completely without grass. It was only when he got out of the car and they approached the front door that he could see the faint numbers, a series of sevens.
                “…Gaz.”
                “What?” she replied, even as she flipped through her key ring.
                “This… please tell me this isn’t where you live.”
                “Naw, asshole, I’m just here for shits and giggles. Of course I live here.”
                “But… this… this is the—“
                “Murder house, yeah, I know. How else do you think I could afford it? Jesus, what’re you so jumpy about?”
                “Well, sorry for being a little nervous about my sister living in a house where they found hundreds of bodies buried in the backyard.”
                “What, Dibby, scared a ghost’ll getcha?”
                “How are you not freaked out by this?”
                “Because there’s no such thing as ghosts. Not here, anyway. So relax, would you?” Finally, she found the key she was looking for, and she slammed her shoulder into the wood, the door creaking loudly as it was forced open. Despite the unkempt outside, the inside of the house wasn’t nearly as terrible as Dib was expecting. Gaz had done some work; there looked to be a fresh coat of lavender paint on the walls of the living room, and a large rug was spread over almost artistically worn hardwood. There were posters hung up on the walls, all old movie posters of terribly-budgeted horror and scifi films, their titles splashed across images of terrorized women.
                “Kitchen’s in there, and the bathroom’s just down the hall, across from my studio. The bedrooms are down this way.” Gaz gestured at a doorway, and the two siblings descended what seemed to be the stairs unending. Dib grimaced a bit.
                “You sleep in the basement?”
                “Yeah. I need the light for the studio, and it’s pretty cool down here in the summer. Saves on air conditioning.” She stopped in front of the first door after the stairs, and pushed it open to reveal a sparsely decorated bedroom. “Here, you can have this one. Throw your shit wherever and then we’ll eat.”
                Dib stepped into the room, expecting something to jump out at him with every step he took. He set his bags down on the bed, looking around. Aside from the lack of windows, the room wasn’t all that bad, and it was decidedly cooler here than upstairs.
                “My room’s just down the hall, the first on the left. I wouldn’t go wandering beyond that, we’re still renovating a bit and it’s kind of a maze.”
                “We?”
                “Yeah, me and my roommate. The place was dirt cheap, but I can’t keep it running on my own. Oh, his room’s across from mine, I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”
                “Wait, ‘his’?” Suddenly, the idea of his sister living in a house previously owned by a homicidal maniac was nothing to worry about. Gaz scoffed, right in his face, rolling her eyes at his reaction.
                “Oh, please.”
                “You’re living alone with some guy? I don’t care how old you are, I don’t—“
                “’Want anything happening to my baby sister’. Yeah, yeah. Gag me with a spoon.”
  “I’m serious! If he tries anything, I’ll break his—“
   “Dib, please, you and I BOTH know who would do the breaking, here. Now shut up and let’s eat.” Gaz turned away then, and Dib had no choice but to follow her back up the stairs to the kitchen. Dib unloaded the paper bag of food onto the table, as Gaz rummaged for plates and cutlery. He dropped her burrito onto one plate, before scooping out his fries onto his own. It seemed the previous subject had been dropped, even though it burned Dib inside to interrogate his sister about this roommate. Like where she met him, who he was, whether he had a criminal history or even if he might be—
  There was a thud, and the front door gave another squeal as it was forced open again. Whatever Dib had been expecting the roommate to be, it was not the four-foot storm of cussing and fury that made a beeline for the fridge, pulled out a thick cupcake and promptly bit into the sugary mess.
  Two bites in, and the other man froze, pale eyes fixed on Dib in a way that made him altogether uncomfortable. Then again, all of the shorter man made him feel vaguely uncomfortable, and he couldn’t quite tell if it was the almost unnatural way he moved or the way his face split into a far-too-toothy grin at the sight of him.
  “Dib. Long time, no see.”
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Hope