Title: The Futile Truth

Author: Growly

Fandom: Invader Zim/Men in Black

Pairing: n/a

Rating: PG

Series/sequel: 1/1

Status: Complete

Archive: Yes, the WWOMB. All others please ask.

Warnings: None

Notes: This is a semi-crossover between Invader Zim and Men in Black inspired by a few of my own rambling thoughts on why none of the people in IZ ever seem to notice that anything weird is going on around them. Incidentally, this was also the fic I mentioned when speaking to Peja about her futile challenge - although I decided in the end not to use the actual word in the fic, just the title. This hasn't been beta'd.

The Futile Truth
By Growly
* * *

"Why…why does this always happen to me?" Dib sat in detention, resting his (perfectly normal sized) head in one cupped hand as he glanced towards the window. He had merely been defending himself from Zim this time, and he'd still managed to get called on it. And Zim…ZIM had gotten off completely! Sometimes life just wasn't fair. And it seemed that "sometime" in his case was more like "just about all the time".

He grumbled softly as he scribbled on the paper in front of him, picturing all sorts of things he would do to Zim once he had managed to expose the alien. He would be famous, and all the people who had laughed and mocked him would finally know what he had known all along. That he wasn't crazy.

The soft swoosh of moving air registered in his mind only moments before he heard the telltale hiss and scrambled to flip his paper over, knowing even as he did that there was no way she could have missed the fact that he hadn't been doing any schoolwork.

Ms. Bitters…Even her name was enough to send shivers down Dib's spine, and not at all pleasant ones either. She was like a snake, in more ways than one, and Dib was the helpless bird caught in her stare. But she didn't do anything, and the boy felt his heartbeat increasing pace nonetheless. He wanted to look away - NEEDED to, but he couldn't tear his eyes from her.

The frightened thumping in his ears was his own heartbeat; he barely registered this fact before his breathing became quicker, shallower. 'Oh god… I'm going to scream… or maybe faint…' He thought the silence was more terrifying than any number of "doomed" things she could say to him. 'If this keeps up, I'll go mad. Worse than they think I am already…'

"You're wasting my time, Dib." The woman's voice was a rasp, harsh and irritated. "What are you doing here?"

"M…m…Ms Bitters?" What did she mean by that? He was doing his detention. She had been the one to GIVE him detention. "I was just…"

"Don't be a fool, doomed child. Don't answer that question. You know that's not what I was asking."

"But I don't…" 'Wait… do I know?' Dib's mouth snapped shut as he regarded the serpentine teacher, his amber eyes wide behind the thick lenses of his glasses.

And then, without warning, it all made sense. Too much sense. The realization left Dib gaping like a landed fish. "Y…you know!"

The teacher arched a brow at him, her gaze bored and perhaps semi-disgusted - not much different than the one she normally wore when addressing the class. But Dib knew better now.

"You KNOW!!!" There was something like anguish in his voice, and beneath it a steadily growing anger. His words were no longer a question, but rather an accusation. He almost spat them in her face, despite the fact that she normally drove him to uncontrollable jitters and that he would NEVER have dreamed of speaking back to her in such a manner until this very moment. His sleeves flapped as he brought his hands down on the desk, his palms hitting the wood and making a satisfying thunk.

It was an effort to force his voice down from the shriek that wanted to emerge, but managing somehow. It still shook as he tried to get the words out in some understandable fashion. "You know I'm right… You know I'm not crazy… Why! W…why didn't you ever…"

"Say something?"

"…Yes…"

"Because, child. You don't know anything about this game you're playing."

"Game!?" Dib squeaked in indignation, getting rapidly to his feet with his black trench coat swirling around his skinny frame. "It is NOT a game! He's here to conquer earth! I'm trying to SAVE everyone! I…"

A hiss interrupted him before he could start a full-fledged rant about Zim being a threat to the safety of the entire planet. Swallowing, he closed his mouth and looked at Ms. Bitters, his eyes filled with confusion.

"Before you go any further, Dib," There was an emphasis on his name that made him slink back into his seat and look up at her with a smile that was half-grimace. "Answer a question." It was not a request, not with her phrasing.

His voice was meek, "Yes, Ms. Bitters."

"Are you happy?"

"What?" This question couldn't be for real, could it? It seemed like a total change of topic, and a rapid one at that. "But…what does that have to do with any…"

"Answer the question!" Her voice was close to a bark, and Dib swallowed, running one hand through his hair and tugging lightly at the scythe-like cowlick that he could never get to lie flat for long; no matter how much it was brushed, sprayed or dampened.

His first urge was to blurt out, "Of course I'm happy!", but under Ms. Bitters' fierce stare he found he couldn't very well snap off an answer unless he'd actually given it some thought. 'Am I happy? I know I wasn't before Zim came… But once he got here it was like BOOM! Holy Grail! Too bad no one sees it but me.' And Ms. Bitters, his mind insisted on nagging.

'But am I happy?' It was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. Unbidden, an image of his father came to mind. World-famous Professor Membrane, giving all those powerful world leaders a tour of his home. He had time for them, but none for his own children.

~"My poor insane son…"~

'Yeah, Dad… and whose fault is it that I'm this way? Did you ever think of that? Did you EVER think that just once you could tear yourself away from your lab and give just a moment of time to your own god damn kids? I'm not talking about that once a year "family night" that you put us through either. I may not care about winning your approval anymore, not after all those failed attempts, but I know Gaz cares about you even if you are a lousy excuse for a father.

'You hear stories about fathers who would do anything for their kids… But that's not you, Dad. I don't think you could be that kind of man. You might promise to, but eventually it would just turn hollow and leave us worse off than before… I love you, Dad, don't get me wrong. But I won't make the mistake of putting my heart near your hand again…'

Gritting his teeth to fight back the tears that were threatening - tears of anger more than of sorrow - Dib forced his thoughts along another track. Maybe he wasn't happy with his dad…but was he happy?

What about Gaz…? Surely his little sister cared about him, at least.

~"Your voice makes me sick."~

Then again…maybe not… She was always too far removed into her own little game world to ever really notice him. They felt more like strangers than like siblings, except in a few very rare instances. Maybe it was better that way.

The kids at school… the other people… Everyone thought he was insane. He had been branded with a stigma that was worse in its way than even that of being a criminal. It was funny… he would have thought he'd be depressed upon realizing how laughable his entire life really was.
But no… it made him angry, indignant, and maybe even a bit pitying, but not depressed. Not like that.

On the other hand, it didn't make him happy either…

"No." He didn't quite sigh, although he came close. "No, I'm not happy." Never in his wildest imaginings had he thought about having a conversation like this with his creepy teacher. It was a bit surreal. The fact that said creepy teacher was actually not uttering the word "doom" contributed to the dreamlike quality of the scenario.

"Good."

That caught Dib's attention. "What do you mean GOOD?!" His voice rose and for the second time he was almost yelling in Ms. Bitters' face. "It's good that I'm not happy!? How is that possib…" His voice trailed off as he remembered just who he was speaking too. His teacher, who often seemed unable to complete more than a sentence without using the dreaded word "doom", "Never mind…"

Ms. Bitters looked down at him, her posture at least conveying a certain amount of smugness, as if she had expected exactly that response. She probably had been, knowing her. "If you had said you were happy, I would have to say that you're wrong and that you are crazy."

"Eh…?" The conversation had just taken another turn, and Dib had the impression of being on an out of control roller coaster, careening down the tracks with no way of knowing where his destination lay, only that it would be a jarring stop when he finally got there.

"Only the insane can be both aware and happy. That's why they spend their doomed lives locked away from the rest of the world."

"Oh…" Dib wished that had made sense so he didn't feel so stupid just sitting and nodding his head like he actually had an idea what that meant. For a moment the teacher's eyes had that faint glow to them that Dib had come to associate with annoyance or anger on her part, and he swallowed, "W…what now?"

"Now?" Ms. Bitters loomed above him like a vulture, casting a long, ominous shadow over his small form as he did his best to sink down in his seat without appearing too obvious about the move. "Now, we talk about the TRUTH, doomed child. You wanted to hear it."

He had been cringing only moments before, but her words brought him back to himself with a start. If she had splashed him with cold water, she could not have gotten a better reaction. "The truth? What truth? What do you mean?!" His hands grabbed the edges of the desk in a white-knuckle grip as he leaned forward, for the moment oblivious to the keep-away vibes that the gray-haired teacher radiated in waves. "The truth is that Zim is an alien trying to take over the world."

If he didn't know better, he'd say she looked amused. It was worse than her irritated look. "That's only part of the truth."

"Then…" Dib swallowed, feeling a bit chilled despite the heat. "What's the rest of the truth?"

"The fact is, Dib…" Something about the tone of the teacher's voice nagged at the back of his mind. It sounded so familiar somehow…

~"The great thing about your people, Dib… is that most of them don't notice…"~

For the life of him, he couldn't remember just who had said that. Not Zim… But who other than an alien would have phrased the sentence quite like that? He forced the thought back in his mind, trying to keep focused on the matter at hand. If it was important, it would come to him.

"The earth is just doomed… doomed doomed…doooooomed…"

"Gah…" Dib made a noise that was half disgust, half surprised - 'although I SHOULDN'T be,' he chided himself, 'this IS Ms. Bitters, we're talking about here.' "But you're ALWAYS saying that!"

"It doesn't make the earth any less doomed." The teacher intoned gravely. "But that's not the point. The earth is doomed, and the only way people can go about their happy little lives is if they don't know about it."

Dib's hands clenched so tightly around the wood that he felt one of his fingernails break below the quick and hissed, shaking it impatiently. "But that makes no sense!"

Dryly. "Whoever said the world had to make sense, Dib?"

'Ouch… good point.' "Alright… then how exactly is that supposed to work? How can they be happy if they're going to die or be doomed or whatever?"

"Because they don't KNOW. They go on as if nothing is wrong. Do the same things they always do. They're as happy as they can be with their pathetic doomed lives. If everyone knew just how doomed they were, do you think they would be able to function properly?"

"Well, I guess…" But when he thought about the question, he wasn't all that sure that he really meant his answer. How DID people react when confronted with something unpleasant? All he had to do was look at the way he was treated to realize that: yes, maybe it wasn't within their abilities to just go about as they always did if they had some nameless specter of doom over their heads. "You may be right."

He conceded at last, reluctantly. "I guess ignorance is bliss…" As much as it pained him to admit to such a thing… it was the same as admitting to defeat. 'But she's right, damn it… it's not that they CAN'T see…it's that they don't want to. It's safer for them to believe there's nothing else out there.' So there were his answers, as bitter as they might be. 'Speaking of bitter…" His gaze slid to his teacher, as there was one OTHER question which was sure to haunt him if he didn't at least ask.

"Why are you telling me this, Ms. Bitters?" Not surprisingly he found he trusted her motives no more than he did anyone else's. He had already begun to learn the hard way that people had their own agendas, and he couldn't be absolutely sure that hers would coincide with his own. She couldn't just be telling him this out of the goodness of her heart - maybe if it had been someone else he could think so, but not HER.

"Because."

Aw… c'mon…he didn't have to take THAT for an answer. "Because why!?" He felt frustration rising in him again, enough to overwhelm the intimidation.

"Because…" The old woman sighed, actually sighed! And Dib could do nothing but stand there feeling a bit…overwhelmed - maybe even awed if it came to that. He had never heard the teacher exhibit any kind of behavior that might have been considered at all kind, or even just less... gloomy. For a moment it was almost like talking to an actual person. A person who was not certain just what to say or how to say it. "…You deserved to know."

"But…" Dib had a niggling feeling that something was going to happen, but he didn't know what. His gaze dropped to where his hands rested on his desk, loosely now. Blood was trickling from under his torn nail, but he hardly felt anything. A dull throbbing maybe.

"Besides, you're doomed to forget it all, anyway." The old woman droned, her words causing Dib's head to snap up again so rapidly that he almost got whiplash.

"Forget it all?" The notion was ludicrous. "How could I forget something like that?"

"Simple… have you ever seen one of these?" Dib blinked as the teacher pulled out an item that looked rather like a shiny metal pen.

"No…" He peered at it speculatively, wondering just what it was for.

"Good."

Dib was about to pull back and ask her what she meant by that when a bright light engulfed his senses.

* * *

"Why does this always happen to me?" Dib grumbled softly, as he stared down at the papers spread on the desk in front of him. Stuck in detention again, and he hadn't even done anythi…

Briefly he felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu, but as he tried to figure out what had caused it, the thought - whatever it had been - slipped away from him. He just couldn't hold onto it. Glaring down at his papers as if they were the source of his problems, Dib was startled to notice something scribbled on one of the sheets.

"MIB? What's a Mib..?" A pause, and then a realization. "Ow! Hey, what did I do to my hand?"

* * *

"So, you contacted the boy? How did it go?"

"Well enough."

"Well enough? This is no trifling matter… You know this as well as we do."

"Remember when I taught you? I said you would amount to nothing…"

"Excuse me…what does that have to do with…"

"Well, I was right…"

"FINE!" A disgusted sigh followed the yell. "Fine. We'll consider the boy. Even if he does seem a bit young."

"So were you."

"Alright… I trust your judgment. Just give us a bit more evaluation time. A spot won't be open until N retires."

"Doom doom dooooom…"

"Yes, I know, Agent B. Zed out."

*End*