#oh yeah and dib bringing fish to Zim.

[asexual-spongebob]

the siren dib and siren gaz brain rot is consuming me. my beloved goofy ass fish.

[chaoartwork]

Multivoid: Chapter 3

A fanfiction revolving around 2K, Palindrome and the alternate Zims in the aftermath of the Battlevoid arc.

Based on Invader Zim comic issues 46-49.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Merged?!” Palindrome’s Dib exclaimed, “What do you do you mean the entire timelines merged?!”

“I’m not sure how it happened myself,” Palindrome was now lying on a couch the computer pulled into the lab so the Irken hybrid can lay down and continue recovering, “but whatever happened after the dissipation, the entirety of the alternate timelines, the timelines in which the Zims responded to the Irken signal and entered the Zimvoid, all merged to become a much bigger universe in one timeline.”

“And...how do you know that that all of the merged timelines here are the ones that are the Zims that lived in the Zimvoid.”

 “My guess for that is because according to the computer, there are two thousand, one hundred and sixty-eight Earths in our universe right now. The population of the Zimvoid was two-thousand one hundred and sixty-nine Zims. One cutting out because Zib’s timeline no longer has an Earth and-“

Palindrome pauses when something came into his head.

“Wait. A new Zim entered the Zimvoid the day the war and dissipation occurred. So that would add up to two thousand one hundred and seventy Zims in the Zimvoid in total. Why is there one timeline missing then....?”

“Maybe the most recent Zim didn’t count because he was the most recent visitor?”

“Hm. Maybe. Then again, if it’s the Styrofoam Zim that is missing, then maybe his timeline didn’t get affected by the Zapper. Maybe...hm...that’s strange. But anyways, I’m very certain the timelines that have merged are the ones that interacted with the Zimvoid.”

“And...you said there are more timelines than that. What happened to the others?”

“That I don’t know. Hopefully they didn’t get affected by this,” he looks at the map. “But I think there is too many on our hands to worry about the other timelines. We need to first figure out what happened that caused all of us to merge like this. Given that we have come back, maybe the Zimvoid citizens have returned to their normal status as well. And....maybe 2K is looking for me too.”

He stayed quiet.

“Computer. Can you identify which planet is 2K’s?”

“2K?”

“Yes.”

“Uh. Sir. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“2K. Number 2000. The baby version of me. Which planet is his?”

“Processing....boop beep boop.”

Soft whirring sounds are heard. Then it stops.

“Uh, sir, I find no information about a planet that belong to this 2K.”

Palindrome groans. Dib looks,

“Is it starting again?”

“No no, I’m not having another one! It’s just...” he sighs and mumbles to himself.

He pondered. He looks back up at the computer.

“Computer. Is there a way to send a signal to the other Earths?”

“Checking......accessible!”

“Perfect!” Palindrome smiled this time, “If so, I want you to send a signal with a clue. It should be something that only 2K can know.”

“Yes master. What clue message would you want me to send?”  

Palindrome thought about it.

“Hm. Try maybe....’Pal’.”

“Very well. Clue message sending...”

“Pal?” The human asked in confusion.

“Yeah. 2K was the only one who often called me by that. Mostly when nobody is around. He was always too nervous on showing that we were very close friends , which is practical for a Zim to do. Zims are not suppose to be friends with anyone.”

“Even their own self?” His Dib was my confused.

“Clue messages is sent, Master!” The computer announced.

“Good,” Palindrome said. He sighs worriedly, “please respond, buddy.”

——————————————————————

Meanwhile, a Zim was seen in his lab continuing to experiment on the styroams. He was waiting impatiently until his antennae shot up in interest when the analyzing machine  made a beeping sound.

“YES! finally! Yeesh, that took forever. Now then,” he went over to the controls and typed something, “to see the results!”

 The result pops out on screen. Zim looks closely at it, humming while rubbing his chin.

“Let’s see. It says here that the packing peanuts are mostly made out of some natural Urth stuff such as wheat and corn starch. Because of this, they will not kill filthy....humans....when they...eat them-DOOKIE! I’m still not close!”

Gir, who was distracted by standing on top of Minimoose and maintaining balance gasped and looked at his master smiling,

“Oooo! Did you figure it out?”

Zim inhales...

“No...” he growled, “I didn’t. It seems everytime I try to figure out their secret deadly weapon, I ALWAYS have to go back to phase one! And to think I was getting excited on finally getting to phase two. Hmph!”

Gir gazed at his master. He then pondered.

“Hmmmm...OOOO! I THINK I KNOW WHAT THE PACKING PEANUTS DO!”

“Gir,” Zim sighed, “I’m not in a mood for another giant pizza story.”

Gir gives out a whimpers and looks at him sadly. Zim glances at him. Knowing he might throw another tantrum, he gives in.

“Fine. Go ahead.”

“OKIE!” Gir happily chirped and hopped out of Minimoose, “get this! We use to be popcorns. But then a packing peanut comes in and thought ‘Hey! I’ll turn them into packing peanuts too’! Then he makes all the other popcorn eat packing peanuts! And that is the story on how we all became packing peanuts!”

Gir happily stick his tongue out.

Zim looks at him in complete confusion.

“....You know, now I wonder if I prefer to listen to the giant pizza story again.”

Another beeping is soundly heard from the computer,

“You got Irken clue message!”

Zim turned in confusion,

“Irken clue message? Where did that come from?”

“Well um...sir. I don’t know how to describe it. But it appears that it came from-“

“Eh!” He smiles carelessly, “no matter! I’ll figure it out later. Now then, show me what this ‘clue’ thingy is.”

“Um. Right away, sir.”

The clue message appeared on the screen, with only a very short word written in Irken. Zim’s eyes furrowed in confusion,

“Who the heck is ‘Pal’? In fact, what kind of idiot would have a stupid name like that.”

“Uh, sir? I don’t think that’s suppose to be a name. My analyzation indicates that it is a very casual word that is used on planet Earth.”

“Oh! Wait, it is? Funny, I thought it was a name for a moment. Anyhow! Computer, explain to me what this word ‘pal’ means.”

“The word “pal” is a word people use to someone whom they are close to. Mostly to a friend. The word is basically another word for ‘best friend’.”

“Best friend, huh? Hm.....” he pondered about it.

 He could have sworn he has used this word before. Maybe with Skoodge maybe? Then, again, he doesn’t really consider too much of him as a “best friend” any more. Especially when he turned his back on him by conquering a planet first. So why does that word feels familiar? It had to do with something. Something about....

His antennae raised up and smiled in excitement.

“I got it! The reason why I am familiar with that word is because it’s the answer I’ve been looking for the whole time! This MUST be the key to the solution! Compuuterrrr!”

“Ugh, what is it now?”

“Respond to the unknown messenger with these following words!”

——————————————-

They were waiting for quite a while. Maybe several minutes to be exact. Palindrome decided to spend his time by letting his computer search a specific signal. While still lying on his couch and holding Miniwhale, he asked the computer,

“Anything?”

“Apparently, I cannot find the signal to the Irken Armada. Why this is the case is unknown.”

Palindrome softly groaned in frustration.

“Great. Now I can’t even communicate my Tallests. I can just hope that nothing has happened to them. Especially in a situation like this.”

He sighed and fully relaxed his body again. His eyes however remained gazing at the monitor, waiting for the response of his lost friend. Miniwhale looked up at his master, softly whimpering in concern.

 The boy looked at him. His eyes furrowed.

“You’re different now.”

“Different,” Palindrome looks at him in confusion, “in what way?”

“Well since you came back, you seem less....Zim. I mean back when we met you were always excited to try to defeat me and do any schemes that can help you conquer the planet. When you became a fish, you did get a little quieter and less motivated into those things, which I let it step aside since it wasn’t that much of a change. But since you have come back after all those months, you’re different. You seem more....calmer and cautious. Especially more...nurturing to say the least. I don’t think I ever seen you comfort Miniwhale without getting bothered that I was around. And you now seem much more focused on finding this baby version of yourself instead of continuing your Earth conquer schemes or figuring out how to bring our universe back to normal. But you’re definitely not like that. Not like your suppose to. You’re now becoming the complete opposite, you know? It just...you know, feels like I’m speaking to a different person.”

  Palindrome blinked. He looks in a bit of offense,

“What are you talking about? I’ve always been Zim. I mean if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have battled against that Zib.”

“That doesn’t count. He was HALF a Dib. Not to mention that you and your friend teamed up with another Dib.”

“Please, it’s not like we had any other choice. It’s either we remain stacked in a stupid prison or we-“

“Signal was responded from one of the Earth’s clones.”

Palindrome instantly turned to the screen with emotional hope.

2K!

 He was about to get off the bed.

“Oh no you don’t!” his Dib stopped, “the very last thing I need is to carry your heavy fish body back on that bed.”

“Fine, fine!” He shoved him away and quickly looked back at the moniter, “tell me, computer. Is there any response from him. Anything at all so I know he’s alright.”

“Well, Uh. It’s only two words-“

“I don’t care!” He narrowed, “show me the message!”

His enemy looked at him in confusion. He has never seen the Irken act this desperate before.

 “Ok ok, yeesh. Here’s the message.”

The two words appeared on the monitor in Irken language. Palindrome read it and grew extremely confused.

“Wh. What?”

“What does it say?” His Dib asked.

“Uh....” his eyes furrowed, “it says...’Packing Peanuts’.”

“Packing peanuts? Was that something 2K was into?”

“What?” Palindrome looked at him as if he was absurd, “no no no, 2K was never into those things. Neither did any other Zims from what I know of. What kind idiot would want to think about-“

He cut short, his face going blank.

The human child looked more confused.

“Zim, what is it?”

“....Actually. There was one Zim in particular that I did not mention in my story. Remember how I said earlier that there was a Zim who came in on the day of the incident? Well, 2K and I only came across the same one while we were escorting the Dib....no, his Dib to encounter Number 1. He was the brand new member of Elites who was able to surpass the greatest gladiator thanks to his Dib enemy’s ‘help’ if you can call it that.”

The fish hybrid looked back at him.

“This was a dumb one, but in his timeline, he accidentally ate packing styrofoams instead of popcorns.”

 “Accidentally eating styrofoams? How does that make him a variation to the others?”

“Nothing special really. Just an ordinary but really dumb and crazy Zim,” he crossed his arms in irritation, “I even tried to see if maybe I can give him a chance on helping us stop Zib, but....he was really no use. All he did while we were prisoned was just muttering about random nonsense.”

“Uh...” His Dib’s eyes furrowed, “thats the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

“Tell me about it....”

The fish stayed quiet. He softly looked at the monitor,

“But if it is the Styrofoam Zim that sent that message, then why did he answer? That is something that only 2K would able to respond to. Then again, that guy may have just decided to randomly respond to a clue.”

He ponders. But he shook his head and groaned in frustration,

“Whatever, I don’t even wanna try getting him on our side again. He won’t listen either way.”

He looks back up at the screen.

“Computer, I would like you t....”

The room went quiet.

“..Sir, were you about to say something?”  

“....Why, yes. I would like you to delete....”

However, every time he wanted to make the command on deleting the response that hold the location of the messenger, something was telling him not to do so. Maybe because he actually deep down wanted to give this Zim another chance? Maybe because he could know on what what happened to his friend? Maybe...it could be him? No, it can’t be him, he would never say something dumb like that, so it would leave with him feeling it could be both of the previous two theories. There was no telling when 2K would ever start responding. As far as he know, maybe his communication signal is having trouble working or he is stuck in his own planet for whatever reason. He didn’t want to think of the worse. He just needs to keep thinking that he is ok.

 Nevertheless, just waiting in his planet for who knows how long is not gonna help. After all, 2K would have responded by now. If he is going to confront Zib, he needs to first find 2K. And before finding 2K, he needs help. The Zim that just answered could be the key to something. He doubts it in his mind. But for whatever reason, he feels a sensation that it might be the case. He just has to try.

“Sir?”

Palindrome was quiet for a while. Then became determined, making his decision.

“Set the estimation on how long it will take to get to this Zim’s planet.”

“Right away, sir. Calculating...”

Beeping sounds were heard. Then it stopped with it replying,

“By light speed, it should take approximately a day.”

“Perfect. We’ll get ready.”

“Wait,” His Dib became confused, “I thought you said this Zim would be no help.”

“Maybe so. But he might be useful somehow in helping me find 2K.”

“Really? What about that ‘Zib’ guy? Maybe he might know?”

“Listen. One thing for certain is that he is responsible for this mess,” he digs into his PAK’s storage for something, “and with him now saying that he can find a way to fix this new merged universe, we can’t just go over and face him alone. After all, he. Hold be setting a trap for us. And we need to be ready in order to avoid it.”

“We? Woah!” He is caught off guard in surprise when Palindrome threw something small  towards him and catches it. He opened his palm to see what appears to be a tiny chip.

“What’s this?”

“I dare you not to drop it.” He squinted, “this thing is very very valuable and it’s lucky to have survived the crash. And if you do anything to it, I’ll make sure I imprison you for life.”

“I don’t understand though,” he looked up and huge confusion and asked again, “what is it?”

 The Irken hybrid blinked before quietly looking at the chip on his enemy’s hand.

“Before I depart, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do first on my return the moment I got stranded in the Zimvoid. And there’s no way I’m going to do this long mission without him.”

[queenburd]

and in the end; chapter 2

When originally writing this chapter, it took a much more aggressive turn than I expected. I think that made it better.

chapter 2: i'm not passive, but aggressive

callbacks and references: ZiM messing with the pipes, Bridge Showdown, Severance Contingency, Space Dork in Trouble

What is SCP-4891?

[TRANSMISSION RECONNECTED. RELAYING...]

[PLAYBACK]

Dib had never been a particularly heavy sleeper, even in the moments where he did finally deign to catch some shut-eye. It was important, after all, to jump to alert when his computer chimed, reminding him to switch on the control lights for his molds, or that his software was finally finished updating. He'd trained himself to have a sharp ear, even in his sleep.

That said, even a heavy sleeper wouldn't have been able to ignore the absolute pounding that would have knocked the front door off its hinges, if not for the many locks.

“Mmguh--”

Dib shot upright without even being fully conscious, instinctively. He shook his head, squinting at the bright blue of his computer screen as if expecting to see a notification, and then nearly jumped a foot into the air as the banging resumed.

He finally scrambled to his feet and was shoving his feet into woolly little slippers when he managed to half-tumble down the stairs. There was shouting outside, though it was still dark. For Glob's sake, was that another neighbor angry about ZiM's messing with the water systems? He had already talked to him about that, if ZiM had started it up again there was basically no hope in it sticking.

“Dib!” He heard more clearly when he began to undo the door's security. “For god's sake—hurry up!”

That—Dib pulled back, blinking in astonishment. That was May, he was fairly certain, and a peek through the peephole confirmed. She looked frantic in the small fish-eye view, hands buried in her hair before she raised her fist to bang on the door again.

“Hang on!” He said hastily, doubling his attempts to unlock the door. When it finally swung open, there were no greetings; May swooped past him without so much as a glance and stormed to the stairs that led to the basement.

“May—huh—hang on!” Anxiously, Dib pursued her down the stairs. “What's going on?! Wuh-What's happening?” Still no response. Instead, May pushed through the portal without pause.

Dib hesitated a moment, looking himself over. His sleeping attire wasn't by any means something he was ashamed of; who could be ashamed of a sweatshirt with ghosts on it? The slippers were less appropriate.

Dib considered running up the stairs and finding his boots, and how long that would take. Grimacing, teeth digging into his bottom lip, he followed May through the blue-green disk.

Though it was still the darkness before twilight and dawn, the lights in Bonnie's lab were all on. He blinked hard, eyes narrowed into slits he could barely see through. “Mmn. What's going on? May?”

His eyes adjusted to take in the pacing figure, who was texting in a panic without looking up to the others in the room. Simon met Dib's gaze, and grimaced from where he was sitting on the edge of Bonnibel's table. As for the scientist herself, she was leaning against the door, seemingly less interested in the whole matter.

“Guh,” the bird finally said, shoving her phone into her pocket and pulling her thumb to her mouth to bite the nail, without pause. “Okay. Texted Mab. Okay. Okay okay.”

“May,” Simon said carefully. “Talk to us. I got your text but you didn't explain anything, we can't help if you don't--”

“Shut up, shut up, I'm thinking. Words are fucking hard Simon, I can barely breathe.” Certainly, May was nearly hyperventilating. Her face was contorted somewhere between rage and... tears, Dib realized. He stood up straighter, and crossed the room to take May by the forearms, and pull her hands out of her short hair, where they had buried themselves.

Dib was one of the few people that could do this when May went into a poor state, if only because she cared about him so much that she couldn't be mad at him for being near her. The only other person he knew was able to do this was--

Something cold ran down Dib's spine.

“May,” he said, hushed. “Where's Kass.”

The expression on May's face twisted again. She pulled her body inward, as though cringing hard.

“We—We were, we were out hunting something, and he—and they—Dib, they took him!”

His gut rolled hard. Dib nearly heaved, and then asked, already knowing the answer; “Who took Kass?”

Her mouth twisted and opened, like she was screaming, but no noise came out. Finally, May inhaled loudly.

“The Foundation,” she told him, voice cracking.

Dib looked back at Simon. He didn't know what his face looked like right now, but if it was anything resembling Simon's, it looked ghastly.

“We were,” May started again, her voice just barely a bit more steady, “we were hunting something, by that, that glass factory. Where all those homeless people would go? With the bad gate? Because,” she inhaled loudly again, “they were going missing. So, so we went to check it out, and then there was a dead agent, and then we were hiding, and he stuck me in the vent and, and he—nnnuh--”

She seemed to relive the moments, and in doing so, her panic became more angry. Startled, Dib stepped back, out of range. This was probably for the best, because she was radiating heat, brows furrowed and teeth bared.

“He just—the fucking idiot, told me not to be a hero, the fucking hypocrite! Who the fuck does he think he is?!”

Dib cast Simon a panicked look, but Simon wasn't looking at him. Simon was focused on the angry form in the middle of the room, with the face he made when he was deep in thought.

“And then he calls me the idiot!” May continued, undaunted, striding to one of the work tables to shove its contents aside. “When we both could have gotten out, he just stared at me like, like he just gave up, and fuck him! Fuck that!”

Here, Bonnibel stepped forward, if only to save the instruments that were being cruelly knocked about. She looked none too happy about it, but it was Simon who finally moved forward into line of fire.

“May, I get it, I seriously do, but we gotta keep our heads on. Come on, is there anything you remember?”

She snapped her head up to him, her hands on the table, as though holding her up. For a moment she was silent, fuming, and then she spoke, as though spitting the words out.

“He said—he said he'd lead them off. But he didn't need to, we could have both made it out, and he made up some bullshit excuse about the vent not holding his weight, and—fuck, Simon,” she interrupted herself, shoving her hand into her hoodie's pocket and slammed the item she pulled out onto the table. It made a vicious noise of plastic and metal on metal.

It was Kass's gun.

“He, he shoved it in with me and just left. Why would he do that?”

Simon glanced back to Dib. Dib bit into his lower lip.

Of all of them, Kass was undoubtedly the most terrified of the Foundation, and with good reason. After two decades in their system, he knew what it contained, and what the people trained in it were capable of. He had, after all, been one of them, and while it was hard to claim Kass was the most loyal, he was certainly one of the more capable.

Of them all, Kass was also arguably the most cowardly, and the most likely to throw others under the bus to save his own hide. Hell, that had happened, just not in his favor. So for Kass to claim to lead the trail away, and leave his firearm behind with someone else?

It was not very much like the Kass Dib knew. He had a funny feeling that the look Simon was giving him was along the same line of thought.

Dib was not a very empathetic person. It wasn't that he didn't care for others, it was more that he didn't know very well how to see the world in another person's eyes. He only had his own life to compare it to, and trying to compare his life to the life of someone like Kass filled his mouth with a sour taste.

But—and it was a bitter memory—he remembered the bridge. He remembered the fear rolling through his stomach for someone else, if the Foundation found them. Dee had been totally unaware of the awful thing Dib had been preparing her for, she had no way of knowing what would have happened to her there. But for him, the knowledge was torture, so much so that he couldn't help but do something about it. He couldn't let anything bad happen to her, or Simon or Mab or Gunter. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

Dib looked from Simon, back to May, who was staring at the gun with a furrowing brow and wavering lip.

The thought trying to form in his head seemed so impossible that it was having trouble coming together. Still, he forced himself to look at the facts.

Kass had been in a situation with another person, where the Foundation had appeared. Kass had chosen to arm the other person and place himself in line of fire, of the Foundation, the thing he was terrified of.

Simon, helpfully, finally put together the words that Dib was trying to string together in his mind.

“He didn't want them to find you. He wanted to keep you safe, May.”

May said nothing, her head still down. There was a tension in the air, thick enough to cut through, before she finally spoke.

“I'm getting him back.”

Dib went stiff.

“He's a fucking idiot and he should know better,” she continued, picking the gun back up and shoving it into her hoodie. “And I swear, I swear to fucking god, I'm going to storm in there myself and bring him back, if only to kill him myself for being so fucking stupid.”

“May--” Simon began, before Dib's hand pushed him aside to stride forward and grab May by the shoulder.

“No you're not. You are not going in there.”

May slapped Dib's hand off her, twisting, her expression fierce. “I am, and there is nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Yeah? Nothing I can do?”

“Dib,” Simon started, “don't--”

“So what, you're just going to walk in and take him? Oh yeah, just gonna walk into Site 17, just here to pick up my belongings, thanks, bye? Just like that?”

“So what if I do?!” May shot back. “I'm not fucking scared of the Foundation, Dib!”

“Well you should be!” His voice was raising, and he wasn't trying to tower over May, but he had grown so much in the past year, and she stepped back as he encroached her space. “You walk in there, tear the roof off the place, and they will never stop looking for you, and they will find you, and you will just be there. You want to spend the rest of your life in a small empty room, being poked and prodded and glob knows what else?”

“I will kill anyone who gets in my way,”

“There's always more! There's always more! You know what,” Dib shot, his hand outstretched to stop Simon, who was trying to approach and defuse the situation, “I'm glad Kass got caught, because it wasn't you.”

There was no pause between the spread of rage in May's face and her throwing herself at him, grabbing Dib by the shirt. She didn't weigh much, but she had momentum on her side, and his knees buckled to bring them to eye level.

“You,” she said, voice trembling in rage, “don't know anything. You've never let go of your fucking grudge, and I said that was fucking fine. I put up with that shit! But you do not get to have a say in who I keep safe, you stupid brat.”

She let go of him, pushing him back and stepping away. “That man is a person, same as you, same as me, and I'm done letting you shit on him when he's there, when he's in the worst place in the world. You don't get to be spiteful, Dib. Not in front of me.”

They were both panting, he realized through the haze of anger and fear as he picked himself off the ground.

“That's not what I said,” he said, lowly. “It's not about Kass.”

“Oh?” She scoffed, disbelief in her voice. “Isn't it?”

“No,” Dib said, his eyes narrowed. Stay calm. Don't get angry again. Simon was at his side, standing between them. “It's not about him. It's about you.”

“What about me?”

Dib inhaled deeply, and Simon spoke in his place. “May, you have never faced the Foundation. Not once. Knowing they're a threat is not the same as knowing what they are capable of.”

May grimaced, but Simon continued, undeterred, “You have always said you could handle it, but you don't know that for a fact. What if you can't? What if you try, and lose? Do you think Kass would want that?”

“Nn,” was the response they were given, watching May shove her hands back into her hair. “Don't do that, don't.”

“He did that so it wouldn't be you.”

“But I didn't ask him to! I didn't want him to!” Dib could see her at conflict, the fury turning to anxiety again. “I can't just leave him there!”

He inhaled again, deeply, and then said, quite clearly, “I am not telling you to leave him there.”

It caught her off guard. Simon turned to Dib, but he was watching her eyes dance from the floor to his face, totally vulnerable. “You're not?”

“No,” he said again, “I'm not.”

“But--” she said softly, confused, as Dib crossed the room again and, far more gently than before, placed his hands on her shoulders.

“What I'm saying is, you're not doing this by yourself.”

“Yeah,” Simon said, beside him, the three of them in their small circle. “You think I would just leave that jerk to rot in the Foundation, after all this time of making sure his butt doesn't get caught? It's almost a matter of pride at this point.”

Dib almost snorted. May made a small noise like an exhale, sniffling as Simon fluffed her hair fondly.

“We're gonna get him out together, May,” Dib said, meeting her eyes. “But if we're doing this, we're going to need a plan.”

-

Dawn had broken by the time Kass had returned to consciousness. The drive to Site-17 was a long one, as it always had been, and he had little more to do than examine his thoughts.

It was not a pleasant experience. Being alone with his thoughts had never served Kass well in the past, and now was no different. He opted, instead, somewhere between the hours, to think of more pleasant things.

While the van curved and sunlight leaked through the small crevice above his head, painting light on the wall across from him, he recalled the water hose he'd aimed cruelly at his housemate on the hottest day of the summer. She'd chased him around the lawn, looking like a fluffy bird who'd gotten caught in a downpour. He had cackled for hours, even as she'd finally caught him and turned the thing on him, turning him into the equivalent of a wet cat.

When Kass was hauled out of the back of the truck, his hands twisted behind his back and his head pushed low, he was considering the silly moments where she would compare the size and structure of their hands with an inexplicable fascination. He still had never understood, despite her trying to show him in her drawings, how the personality of a person could be seen in their wrists and knuckles.

As he was processed into the facility, Kass had to double his efforts. He focused on the memory of finally cleaning himself up and letting someone else fix his hair, which had gotten so long in the years, instead of thinking about the hair falling on his face and the razor on his scalp. He tried very hard to recall the smell of clean laundry while he was handed ghastly orange fabric and ordered to change.

He had gotten good at disassociating, compartmentalizing through the years. He was almost able to ignore the absolute terror that left his joints stiff when he walked through the familiar dark halls of Site-17. Yet it became impossible to continue that line of thought when the agent that was escorting Kass chose not to lead him down to the D-Class level, but instead opted to weave deeper into the facility.

“Hey, rookie,” he said sharply, forcing panic to not slip into his tone. “You're going the wrong way, dipshit. D-Class cells are two levels down.”

The agent stopped, and turned. He grinned at Kass, like a leer. It took Kass an embarrassingly long moment (they had taken his glasses) to process, before whatever blood that had remained in his face drained entirely.

“Christwanker,” he said, hollowly.

“There's been a change in schedule,” Harper said pleasantly, checking his pager as if to confirm something. “You're needed in the Sigma Sector, Agent Kass.”

They were sending him directly into scip experimentation chambers. Fuck, but he was an unlucky bastard.

“You know,” the smug agent continued as he pushed Kass forward again, “when we got the report that you were coming in, and you weren't sending trucks flying off the road somehow, we started the betting pool right away. Do me a favor, and survive till day four, would you? I've got sixty dollars on you getting lost in SCP-4891.”

Breathing was becoming very difficult for Kass. He was ushered further down, down, pushed through doors and halls, until Harper pushed him into a dark room with an examination window. His cuffs were undone, and then he was abandoned there, waiting.

Well. He was well and properly dickmunched.

Use proper English, for Christ's sake, he could hear her swear, like a little whisper. He laughed pathetically, unable to help himself.

Right. Kass stood straight, waiting at the door by the examination window, clenching his jaw to a tightness that hurt. D-Class personnel. He may have been screwed, but he didn't have to go down without a fight. If there was anything Kass was good at, it was making life hell for others, scip and human alike.

The door slid open, filling the doorway with light. Kass narrowed his eyes with a grimace, braced himself, and stepped into the containment room.

[TRANSMISSION INTERRUPTED—RECONNECTING...]