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Being Human	By : RotSeele Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 2485 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Being Human
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty One
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Twenty-Five
- 26-Twenty-Six
- 27-Twenty-Seven
- 28-Twenty-Eight
- 29-Twenty-Nine (Epilogue)
- 4
- 5
- 6
Five – Zim POV
“I look like a freak.”
“Good. You’ll fit right in.”
I looked at Gaz and frowned at her, contemplating shooting her, but then if I did that, I’d have no one to drive me to the college and I couldn’t very well shoot the one person who was actually going out of her way to give me what I wanted. I sighed heavily and turned my attention to the side mirror of the car where I could see my reflection.
This isn’t a makeover. I thought sourly. I don’t even look like myself anymore.
True to her word, I’d gotten a full makeover. My wig was now sewn to my scalp, thanks to a “friend” of Gaz’s that specialized in such things. And my skin… my skin was now a shade of brown with green tinting. I closed my eyes and shuddered. The same “friend” who had sewn the wig to my head had also decided I was too pale. Sickly. Gaz just grinned when she was told and stood aside when I was shoved into a tanning booth after my clothes had been ripped from my body. I rubbed my temple at the memory of the guy sizing up my naked ass, his eyes fixed on my lack of genitalia and saying, “Honey, don’t worry about tucking. I’ve seen them all.”
So what color does an Irken turn after he’s been exposed to UV rays? Puke brown.
“Remember,” Gaz said suddenly, “you’re the one who wanted to do this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I grumbled. I knew she was laughing, but I chose to ignore her. I stared at my reflection and wondered where I could hide the bodies. I watched the scenery change and realized I was on the college’s campus. Gaz slowed her speed and turned onto a side street and pulled up to a large brick building.
“That is your dorm building,” she said, turning off her car. “Do you need me to help you?”
“Help me do what?”
“Carry your shit.”
“Go to hell.”
“Already there.” Gaz said with a cheerful smile. It unnerved the crap out of me. I got out of the care and started pulling out the suitcases Gaz had lent me to carry my new clothes, school supplies, and other equipment I thought I’d need. It really wasn’t much to carry. I flipped her the finger (which was actually very satisfying) and she flipped me off before driving away, leaving me standing there, effectively stranded. Grumbling, I picked up my things and headed into my dorm building. My room was on the third floor, a spacious cube-shaped room with two beds. I got my key from the girl at the door, who introduced herself as the RA. It took all of my willower to stammer out a greeting that wasn’t too like Zim. After all, I wasn’t supposed to be Zim here. I was Zeke. I was human. I was…
“You my roomie?”
I dropped everything on the left side bed and spun to face the young man standing in the doorway. His skin was dark brown, not quite black. Glasses covered brown eyes, and a thick cloud of curly black hair ringed his face. For a moment, I thought I was staring at Dib.
Human, idiot! You’re supposed to be human! “Uh, y-yeah. H-hi. I’m Zeke.” I stuck out my hand in the same way Gaz had taught me. The boy looked at my hand for a minute, then reached out to take my hand, giving it a slight squeeze.
“I’m Desmond. Nice to meet you, Zeke.” He stepped into the room and put his things on the right side bed. He turned to look at me and smirked. “Are you blushing?”
“What? No!” I touched my cheek and glowered at the floor.
Desmond laughed. “Easy, Zeke. I’m teasing you.”
A nervous laugh escaped my throat. “Oh.”
“You’re not my type, anyway.”
“…What?”
Desmond smiled and said, “You’re not my type.”
“You… you’re…”
“Yep.” His lips twitched into a smile. “Does it bother you?”
“I don’t really care who or what you humans like to mate with.” I mumbled.
“You humans, huh?” I jerked and stared at Desmond. He was just standing there, smiling at me. Then he said, “So you don’t consider yourself a part of the race that populates more of the world than is necessary? What are you, algae?”
I couldn’t help it. I started to laugh. “Algae?” I asked when I finally had the breath. “What the hell? Do I look like a single cell organism to you?”
“Well, you’re either some kid fresh off the polygamist compound or you’re an extra-terrestrial.” Desmond smiled. “Or you’re insane. Still not my type, though.”
I shook my head, trying to avoid giving away the fact that I was indeed an extra-terrestrial. “So what is your type?” I asked, more for the sake of getting the conversation away from whether I was human or not than for the sake of satisfying my curiosity.
Desmond shrugged. “I dunno. I always figured I’d know it when I found it.”
“So how do you know you’re gay?”
“Because I kissed a girl and didn’t like it.”
I stared and gave a humorless laugh. “Because that’s always how someone determines they bat for the other team.”
Desmond grinned and shrugged. He turned to his things and began to unpack. I followed suit, trying to keep from being too suspicious. It took a little effort to pretend I was taking off a backpack when I really was removing my PAK, but I managed to succeed somehow. I decided I’d need to modify my PAK somehow, to make it less conspicuous if I was going to wander around campus with it. At least my roommate hadn’t yet asked me about it. I wasn’t sure I could lie convincingly enough to make him believe it was just some hi-tech backpack. The removal of the PAK was only a little uncomfortable. I could feel it detach from my brain stem and slide out from under my skin. I shivered at the loss of weight on my back and the feeling of impending doom. I needed this thing to survive, after all. If anything happened to it…
Well, I didn’t want to think about it.
I put my PAK into my little closet with my clothes and other things, stepping back to survey my work. Desmond moved around the bed to the desk set against one wall, already unpacking his computer, printer, an assortment of wires, and other things. Something on his bed caught my attention. It was a long black case, made of hard plastic.
I jerked my thumb at it and asked, “You carrying a bazooka in there?”
Desmond chuckled. “Nah. It’s my saxophone. I’m a music major.” He plugged in the last wire and stood up, brushing off his hands as he moved back to the bed and opened up the case. A golden glow appeared first, but as my eyes adjusted the glow abated enough for me to make out the parts of the instrument.
Desmond patted it. “I’ve had this baby since middle school.”
“I barely know how to play the recorder.” I admitted lamely. Not that I’d really practiced any instrument that didn’t deal with getting the upper hand on Dib and/or blowing up some planet or another. I wondered in that moment if, because of my genetic tampering, I’d created a new curiosity for things outside my knowledge. Or, I was just genuinely curious. I hoped it was a malfunction, but then, I was probably grasping at straws.
“Yeah, well,” Desmond said with a smile, “some people are musically inclined, while others are better off focusing their energies elsewhere.”
I glanced at him, wondering if I was severely underestimating the intelligence of my roommate. Finally, Desmond closed the saxophone case and turned to look at me. “You hungry?” he asked.
I blinked, then smirked. “Are you asking me out?” I teased, unable to help myself.
To Desmond’s credit, he just grinned. “Maybe.” He replied with a teasing note to his voice.
I finally shrugged. "Yeah, sure, fine."
"Great. So, do I get to know your name before our first date?"
"Zi- uh, Zeke." If he heard my slip he didn't indicate. it. He just smiled. I waited for something, some part of me tensing up at the silence. By now, Dib would've been shouting at me, freaking out to the point a blood vessel in his brain would no doubt explode under the pressure. But not Desmond. No, he just smiled and let the silence stand. Finally I moved toward the door, saying, "Well, let's go then."
"Right, right," Desmond followed me out, locking the door behind us.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I didn't show it - no invader worth his title would dare - but I couldn't help my traitorous thoughts as they bounced around in my head. Would I even be able to eat the food here? Irkens didn't have the same gastrointestinal structure as humans did. My skin only stopped reacting to earth water half a year ago. Still, that wasn't anywhere near worthwhile as far as evidence went. For all I knew, I was still screwed as far as certain foods went. I glanced at Desmond. "So," I ventured, "what's your family like?"
Desmond's smile lessened a bit and he looked toward his sneakers. "What's it like? The question should be what isn't it like. It's a three-ring circus most of the time. My mom works three jobs just to put food on the table and make sure my three little brothers have diapers and clean clothes. My grandmother somehow manages to pick up the slack. My older sisters, the two of them, still live at home with us. One's married with a kid on the way and the other goes to community college. I got lucky. Won a music scholarship." He smiled. "What's your family like?"
"Well," I started. I wasn't the best liar. Even GIR could tell when I was lying, and that was something that never boded well for my health. "I don't see my parents very much." I finally said, which was true, more or less. The fictional parents Gaz had imagined for me were supposed to be unreachable. As far as actual 'mother' went… I was a clone. I didn't really have much more information than that. I was a clone of some Irken who had long since passed out of mind and memory of my entire race. I was one of hundreds, meant for one thing and one thing only. "They're always off on some mission or something."
"Your parents are what? CIA? Black Ops?"
"Ambassadors."
"I think it'd score you more points if they were spies."
"Score more points with who?" I asked, frowning.
Desmond shrugged. "It makes you seem cooler. More mysterious."
"Or it makes me sound like a pretentious douchebag." My mind stuttered to a halt after the last syllable left my mouth. Inwardly, I groaned. I'd gotten better at using human vernacular over the long years on earth, but never in my life would I have thought Gaz had rubbed off on me. Those kind of words were words she'd use. Which meant I was either becoming more human or I was enjoying masquerading as a human. I felt disgusted with myself. I was here to prove a point to Dib-monkey, not lose myself in roleplaying and dress-up. Still it seemed that that was exactly what I was doing. And I think a poor innocent puppy just died somewhere, because, goddammit, I was having fun. I became aware of Desmond chuckling against hist fist, as if he was trying to hold back.
"What?" I snapped.
He just burst out laughing then. "Dude, I wish I had a mirror, because you should see the look on your face."
"…This is always how my face looks."
"No, no. You suddenly got this "Oh Jesus Christ, what have I done" look on your face and then you glared like someone just dropkicked your kitten."
I just stared at Desmond for a moment, then shrugged as nonchalantly as I could. "Well, you know, just thinking some disturbing thoughts."
"Such as?"
"You really don't wanna know."
Desmond just gave me a look and shrugged. We walked into the cafeteria, and were blasted by all sorts of sensory stimulation. Noise of voices, smell of food and drink (and people), the semi-oppressive atmosphere - it was a lot to take in and I ignored it all. I followed Desmond to the line and picked up a tray and silverware. There were too many things to choose from, ranging from unhealthy to healthy. I decided I'd go for the salad. I didn't trust the soups and there was no way I was going to get close to the hamburgers sitting under the heat lamps.
"That's all you're having?" Desmond asked, eyeing my plate of romaine lettuce, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, parmesan cheese, and croutons all buried under balsamic vinaigrette dressing.
"Yeah," I replied. "So?"
"Are you a vegetarian?"
"Not really. I have a very sensitive digestive system."
Desmond just stared at me for a moment, then shrugged. I was glad he didn't press for an explanation. I wasn't sure how I'd explain it anyway.
The lunchroom was filled with people from almost every race, creed, gender, and then some. I took in the whole scene in the blink of an eye and suddenly I missed having my PAK because everything I saw here would've been recorded within it for future reference. Of course, logically speaking, it probably would've been more trouble than it was worth. I followed Desmond to a table and set down my tray. As I sat, I felt the back of my neck prickle. Surreptitiously, I looked around under pretense of looking for other imaginary friends. And then I saw him. Dib-monkey. Sitting with two humans, male and female, who closely resembled one another. At that precise moment, Dib happened to look up. His eyes found mine. I froze.
- 4
- 5
- 6
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Being Human