A/N: If you swallowed the poisoned-by-human-blood thing you should have no trouble believing Irkens can draw blood from veins in their legs. Hush now.

Anyhow, this is the second-to-last chapter... geez, I didn't realize how short this was until I started uploading it.

Well, as stated in the summary, there will be a sequel (actually several sequels but you probably won't want to read all of them because it gets majorly crossovery), so this isn't as important as a stand-alone fic so much as an introduction to the series.

Still, it's a trifle rushed, I think. Maybe later down the road I'll rework it. (MUCH later. I have way too much to do right now.)

Anyway, here youse goes.

If I could make you stop and take a look at me instead of just
Walking by...
~A Goofy Movie, 'Stand Out'

If only, if only, the woodpecker sighs
The bark on the trees was just a little bit softer
As the wolf waits below, hungry and lonely
He cries to the moon, 'if only, if only'
~Louis Sachar's Holes

2:23 PM

The glass tubes and beakers clinked and clanked together as he worked at a fever pitch, his hands shaking and his breathing heavy. He shoved a new blend of chemical into the computer's sampling mechanism, then picked up an empty syringe and jammed it into his leg without a moment's hesitation. Drawing a few cc's of dark purple blood he added that as well. He watched the screen with wide, desperate eyes as the samples were analyzed and put into the simulation. There was an animation of the chemical mixture washing over his blood cells- and dissolving them.

"No! NNNOOOO!" He picked up the beaker containing the rest of the mixture and hurled it into the wall with all of his diminished strength. It shattered and began to eat through the metal.

Zim fell rather heavily to a sitting position, panting. His insides seared with white-hot pain and he lunged forward, hugging himself tightly and vomiting blood onto the floor. His heart pounded in his chest and he hung his head, whimpering.

Tears of pain welled up in his eyes and he began to pant like a dog. Suddenly he heaved himself to his feet and clutched onto the side of the table, gasping desperately for breath. He reached back with one hand and floundered clumsily and awkwardly in his pocket, his breath catching in something like a sob.

He touched smooth glass and pulled out the object he wanted. His vision swam as he stared at it.

His Invader medallion.

He gulped, closing his eyes for a moment, then forcing them open to gaze at the symbol some more.

It wasn't fair. This was his mission. His beautiful, shining last chance. It wasn't fair...

and it wasn't over. He bared his teeth.

2:25 PM

MALIK cocked her head sideways, frowning. Beside her Minimoose floated in midair, a vacant smile on his face.

"You are aware this show is garbage," she said.

He squeaked indignantly.

There was a soft noise behind them, a scuffle. She turned to see Zim standing there.

He was completely still, his eyes unfocused and his shoulders relaxed. (A first.) His antennae hung limp against his skull. His hands dangled limply at his sides. There was something around his neck... a medallion with an odd, unfamiliar symbol on it, hanging by a glowing blue cord. She took a mental picture of it.

"Sir?" she asked, raising her eyebrows. He shuffled towards the door, saying nothing.

He was almost gone, she decided. Pity.

The door slammed beside him and she realized he'd gone outside without a disguise, something he'd alluded was unsafe to do. Hm. Well, he was dying anyway.

She turned her attention back to the TV.

However, she couldn't focus. It wasn't right for a robot to allow an organic to do something dangerous when they could be stopped. Even a defective robot like MALIK, even a probably defective organic like Zim. She shook her head, sighing, and got to her feet, activating her hologram.

2:26 PM

Zim opened the door to Dib's house, panting. The lock had been no trouble. He'd made himself a counterfeit key quite some time ago.

"Dib!" he called. "Dib, I know you're in here. I need to speak with you. Now."

Dib stalked out from the kitchen, smirking. He was holding a large gun. Zim could smell the water inside it and he shuddered convulsively.

"So, you finally came for GIR yourself instead of sending your new lackey. Build her yourself?"

Zim took a rasping, painful breath. He hurt so badly it was nearly impossible to think. "I'm ill."

"I know."

"I n-need you-" He started coughing, his small frame jerking painfully. "Dib..."

There was a clunk as Dib set the water gun down. "What's in it for me?"

"Dib," he could only plead, as he fell to his hands and knees. He was crying and he hated that he was crying. HATED it. The pain was exploding in his head and he couldn't think at all anymore. "Help- Irk- I have to go home-"

"Zim! What-"

"Have to-" He lapsed into Irken without realizing it. "Rikkinessseee. Tagasar. Shrina... Skireena Zim..."

"Z-Zim?"

Zim collapsed with a little sigh. Dib caught him with one arm. "Zim- what- what's going on? This isn't your plan to take over-"

His voice faded away.

3:12 PM

Dib struggled down the sidewalk, Zim supported on one of his arms. The Irken was nearly unconscious, stumbling along beside him with his eyes closed. Dib's eyes were wide and his breath was harsh.

He shouldn't help him. He shouldn't. This was insane. Zim hated him. And Dib hated Zim. And Zim was evil. And he'd never, ever done anything for Dib, and-

He squeezed his eyes shut. All his life Dib had devoted himself to helping people who didn't even know they needed help. Helping people and being good to them even when they didn't deserve it, wasn't that the best thing a human being could accomplish?

But Zim! Earth-hating Zim who wanted to destroy the human race! What the heck! Dib would be doing the whole world a service by letting him die!

And that was completely right, of course. He knew it, but the entire human race wasn't hanging on his arm, hot and sticky and trembling and puffy-faced. Zim was. And Dib was having a hard time viewing this objectively right now.

He looked up to see his father's lab approaching. Oh, thank goodness. He dragged Zim up to the door and knocked. One of Dad's dorky lab assistants opened the door.

"We need help," Dib said immediately. "My friend is-"

The lab assistant gasped. "Oh, my! What's wrong with your face?"

Dib realized the scales must have spread. "It's not me, it's-"

"It's me," Zim croaked. The lab assistant blinked. "I'm sick."

"Yeah," Dib said. "Um, he's kinda-"

"Zerinim," Zim mumbled. "That's my name." Aw crap, he was delirious. "You need to know..."

"Could you get my-" Dib started but the lab assistant was already gone. He dragged Zim into the building. It was dark inside and smelled like weird chemicals. He looked around in vain for his dad.

"Hey!" Dib yelled, and no one even looked at him. His voice rose. "Hey! I need-"

"HEEELP!" Zim screamed. "HEY!"

All heads turned. Zim started coughing violently, clutching at Dib's shirt to keep his balance.

"Son!"

Dib whipped around to see his father striding closer. "Dad!" he cried. "Dad, something's wrong with-"

"Your little foreign friend. I see. Son, what is-"

"Zerinim," Zim choked suddenly, latching onto Membrane's long white coat. "My name is Zerinim- you need to know my name-"

"Nonsense, Ziana is a girl name," Membrane said, reaching down to pat Zim on the head between his antennae.

Dib had a hard time not ripping his hair out. "No, Dad, it's an Irken name and it's his! Dad! He needs help and he's sick! He's got some weird space disease! He could die!"

Membrane gasped. "Son! Your face! Why-"

"Zim, Dad!" Dib cried with an emphatic point. "He's gonna-"

"Look at me, why won't you look at me," Zim was rasping, burying his face in Membrane's coat. That was a little weird.

"DAD!" Dib screamed. "LOOK AT HIM! I'm just wearing stage makeup!"

"Oh, I see," Professor Membrane said with a nod.

"Zim's got pneumonia or something!" he kept yelling. "He's really sick!"

"Oh!" said Membrane, appearing to see Zim for the first time. "Great Scott! I thought you were just playacting, son!"

Zim was silent.

"Well, we can't let the poor child die from pneumonia," Membrane said, scooping him up. "I'll be back shortly, son."

Dib stared down at his shoes, panting. Zim's words echoed in his head, look at me, why won't you look at me. He thought he might throw up.

"That was masterful."

Dib turned in shock to see that little robot-disguised-as-a-girl standing there with her hands on her hips.

"No wonder you were able to defeat me," she said. "Goodness, that human is an imbecile. He should be shot."

"Uhhh..." he said. "You're kidding, right?"

"No." Her face was completely straight.

Dib's eyebrows furrowed. This girl didn't even know him or his dad. Who was she to say these things? "Well, I have a reputation as being kind of insane. So does Zim. He just thought we were playing."

"Mm. I hold by my observation of stupid," she said, and his eyes narrowed. "Now. Will that man be able to cure Zim?"

"I think so," Dib mumbled, sitting down and rolling his eyes. "If all this time he doesn't finally figure out he's an entirely different species."

She tilted her head sideways, then wiggled the fingers of one hand in a groping gesture. "I... sense there is more going on than what I've been clued into, human. Is there more to this situation I should know?"

"Ask Zim about it if he doesn't die," Dib said bitterly. He reached up to touch the scales on his face. "What am I going to do about this?"

"I'm sure I have no idea. Your father won't help you, you told him it was makeup."

Dib sighed. "Thanks a lot."

"I sense your sarcasm and I find it childish, I'm only stating the facts."

Dib looked sharply up at her. Her face was completely even. In fact, her expression hadn't changed throughout the entire conversation.

"Where did you come from?" he demanded. "Did Zim build you?"

"No."

"Well, what's your name? I like knowing the bad guy's names."

For the first time her face changed- her eyes narrowed slightly. "As do I, boy."

"Dib," he said, giving her a hard look. "My name is Dilbert Putchel. To you? Dib."

She nodded shortly. "I see. I am MALIK." She raised an eyebrow. "No kitschy little nicknames. Just MALIK."

"Okay. MALIK," Dib said, looking morosely at the busy lab all around him. No one would even spare a glance his way. "Well. I'm going home."

A/N: He's called 'Dib' because 'Dilbert' and 'Bert' both scream NNNNNNEEEEERRRDDDD. Which Dib don't need no more of, if you get my drift.

I love writing for Professor Membrane. He's a hoot. A thick-as-a-post bad-parent hoot.

Anyhow. Yes, that was short. Gee. Well... once the story is finished, if anyone else thinks it was too short, I'll have deleted scenes and stuff up in my LiveJournal (linked to from my profile). That won't make it longer, I know, but it's something.

Well bye for now.