Back again with another fic (because I am an unstoppable death machine ^,~) They always say you're only as good as your last fic. God I hope I don't ruin my good fortune, seeing that BS and FPP have gotten such great reviews! But hey, I've gotta prove I'm not a one trick pony! This one hit wonder will rise from the ashes of failure! (damn Gundam Wing and Digimon...)
As always, Zim, Dib and Invader Zim are not my property, but belong to Jhonen! I do however own Jax and Nye...sadly. Oh and blame Nye for the R rating. It only gets worse from here on, too.
Sorry if the writing sucks, especially after the scene break. Real Life (yes, the biggest bitch of them all) has zapped most of my creativity through agonizing depression. But I MUST prevail because, like Gir, I will explode if I don't write. It happens to me sometimes.
I swear, I'm gonna write a comedy one of these days. I've got the best idea too so no one take it! When I'm in a funny mood perhaps I will share this fic with everyone...
***
At the Jezebel lights, music, and action floated in a vortex of flesh and sweat, reflecting off of the emotions and adrenaline that rushed through like a rapid pulse. Bodies ground against each other on the dance floor in mimicked sexual prowess, thrusting and caressing with a shadow lover to the beat of re-mixed lust. Smoke from machines and red painted lips put a haze on the crowd like fog over London, filling the easily subjected minds with mystic, faraway thoughts. Glasses clinked in drunken cheers, while corners hid the drugged up prophets preaching words of love and free statement. The smells that permeated the red velvet sofas and black leather bar stools polluted the mind and teased the senses with the musk and promise of sex. People could come alive behind the ruby door with the flashing neon sign. The Jezebel was a place for the zombies of the day to remember the full moon and the creatures of the night to feed on the power of persuasion in the mix of music and scantly clad fairies that almost floated through the musky mist.
Jax shielded his eyes from the off beat strobe lights that flickered like soundless lightning as he wandered towards the bar, random hands stretching out to touch his suede covered ass as he half danced to the back of the room. It was almost considered rude not to caress objects one observed worthy or desirable. With his unkempt moss green hair and exposed, defined chest whispered with glitter, pants that hung dangerously low off of his hips and bright blue eyes lined in coal, the young man was used to the attention.
The bar was suddenly spread before him; the line between dance floor and disgruntled drunks was small but clear and a breath of fresh air from the confined mass of bodies. The bartender looked up with a look of recognition, letting the towel in his hand stop it's circular movements over the clean stretch of the plastic and metal counter.
"What the fuck you want?" The voice was strung with a jesting humor and the youthful face alight with mischief. The bartender pointed to an open seat and waited for Jax to seat himself. "My manager's in back so order whatever. Fucking lunatic. Why the fuck's he care if you're a minor?"
Jax smiled. "I'm good. I'm gonna head out of here soon anyway, Nye."
The bartender spat, throwing his dirty towel in Jax's face. "See if I fuckin' get you in 'ere next time, if you're gonna be a pussy and leave before midnight."
"It's two in the morning, Nye."
"Don't correct me!" Nye took back his dirty towel and laid it back on the countertop, blowing his blond bangs out of jade eyes. "Just get the fuck outta here. And take that nut case friend of yours with you! I ain't draggin' his sorry ass back to the dorms."
Jax took a momentary pause to look around, surveying the occupied stools for any familiar faces. "Where is he?"
"How the fuck should I know? I'm a fucking bartender! I tend the fucking bar. I don't wander around looking for fucking freshman who get lost in the fucking club!"
"Workin' ya hard?"
"Open to fucking closing!" Nye tossed a bottled beer to a customer. "Damned stoner fuck."
Jax sighed in pity, straightening up and stretching just a tad to relieve his muscles. "Guess I'll see you back at the house, then."
"Not fucking likely!" Nye shouted over the crowd as Jax moved back into the mass of dancing ravers.
Jax melted into the group like teenage hearts over pop gods while the speakers busted hateful lyrics to killer beats. Every color of the rainbow flowed before him in a sea of Goths and preps alike, flaming red hair chasing violet like pixilated video games. On one of the ruby sofas sat a black figure, seemingly oblivious to the frantic fever of the room. Jax smiled smugly to himself, swerving around a couple that had forgotten the world in their rapture and pleasure pursuit. His feet cascaded across the slick floor for an eternity until his hands grazed the soft velvet and eyes captured the pale radiance that sat upon it.
"Ya had enough, Dib?" Jax took his hand from the cloth and rested it against the mesh-covered shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Come on. I'm gonna take you home."
Dib's head bobbed up and down until at last a thread of vomit spewed from his lips and splashed against the dance floor. None seemed to notice, even though the very smell threatened Jax's own internal expulsion. He looked away with a grimace, biting his lip as he thought of what to do with the inebriated youth. "Aw, Dib...you're gonna get Nye fired." Deciding on the original plan, and hoping to spare Nye from any unneeded explanations to his employer, Jax leaned down and put one arm around his friend's bare midriff. "Don't make me carry you outta here, Dib. Put your arm around my shoulders and help me out, okay?"
Dib made his best impression of a nod as he gracelessly pulled his arm up and around his friend and allowed himself to be escorted into the streets where the air was fresh and cool.
**
College dorms were small no matter which building one stayed in. The two-person living space consisted of a small bathroom, two closets, two desks and two beds, with too little room between for movement. Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but Zim missed his endless labs and house back in what he'd learned to call Home. College life was so different from his life before, even before Earth. Whether it was better or worse didn't ring clear. It was just different.
The late night/early morning knock on the door wasn't though. It was routine enough to make the Irkin sick.
Tossing his legs over the side of the bed and wincing as his bare feet came into contact with the cold, hardwood floor, Zim stood, letting the covers fall to the bed. He soundlessly walked to the door, not even bothering with the peephole or cracking it open just enough to see who stood there. He merely opened the door and stood back, waiting for someone to drag his roommate in.
As usual, it was Jax. Zim sneered audibly, following his back as he drifted in like bad luck and deposited Dib on his bed.
"What is it this time?" he spat, unable to keep the loathing from his voice.
The tall figure stood, his bushy hair and blue eyes the only thing visible in his silhouette. "I guess he drank too much. I really wasn't watching him."
Zim was holding the door open, waiting for the unwanted visitor to get the idea and leave already.
Jax shuddered at the coldness in the weird green guy's posture and speech, making his way around him and out the door as quickly as possible. "Sorry about this. Tell Dib I'll see him tomorrow."
The door slammed shut between "sor" and "ry".
Zim turned the lights of the room on, washing Dib in color that he otherwise lacked. His skin was deathly pale; had always been as long as he had known him. The black clothing only helped aid the ghostly appearance. Zim walked purposely towards the other's bed, hovering over his with a set grimace.
"Well, Dib, did you have fun?"
Dib didn't say a word. His head lolled to one side.
Slightly worried, Zim sat on the edge of the bed and turned Dib's head towards him. Apparently Jax had helped him get ready for the night. They both shared the same black outlined eyes and rivers of glitter sparkled across the translucent skin. The eyes were half open, tiny slits of life under black lashes. Dib seemed to look up at Zim, cringing immediately and closing his eyes.
"What happened?" Dib asked, keeping his eyes firmly closed.
Zim hissed. "I should be asking you that. How many times is someone going to have to bring you back before you learn your limit?"
Dib swallowed, shaking his head slowly. "I meant to you..."
"To me?" Zim looked over himself quickly. He looked just about as normal as anyone would after being woken up at two in the morning. He was bare-chested in pajama bottoms of fuchsia and red, moonlight filtering in and illuminating him by the window over Dib's bed.
"You're covered in blood..." Dib muttered, opening one eye and closing it immediately afterwards.
Zim's eyes widened madly. There was not a trace of blood anywhere. "Dib...are you..." He put one had on either side of his roommate's face, angling it with his own. With his thumbs, he pried the eyelids up, gasping and internally cursing. The once golden eyes were nothing but black with the expanse of his pupils. "Shit, Dib, what did you do?"
Dib ripped Zim's hands from his face, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Get off me! Don't bleed on me! Your blood is like acid!" He curled up into a ball as Zim pushed himself away from the bed, looking down upon the scene. "It burns! Oh God... Make it stop!"
Zim cringed, watching the obvious pain play across the other's face, though there was nothing physically hurting him. Zim stepped closer, daring to lean over the bed as he had done before. "Dib, there's nothing there," he said firmly. "There's no blood. It's all in your head."
Dib seemed to calm down a bit, but his hands continued gliding up and down his arms to sooth the burning. "Make it stop, Zim. Make it stop," he pleaded, his closed eyes turning towards the direction of Zim's voice.
The Irkin laid his hand once more on the young man's flesh, only to hear him scream out again.
"Oh God...why does it have to hurt?"
Fed up and seriously freaked out, Zim hastily lifted the human from the bed with a series of pained shouts and moans from invisible injuries. With just as much warning as he had given before lifting the crazed youth, Zim set him down into the bathtub.
Apparently it was a worse idea than touching him.
Dib's screams reached a new level as he clawed at the sides of the tub, his fingertips raw as they scathed the smooth surface furiously.
"No! I'm alive! Don't bury me! Please! I'm alive! I don't want to be in here!"
Zim shrank back, his right hand reaching out and turning on the shower. The cold water burst out faster than he had anticipated, a few drops sprinkling his bare flesh. With a hiss of real pain, not imagined as Dib's was, Zim pulled his hand back, putting it to his mouth and attempting to suck the hurt away.
Perhaps it was then that he realized Dib was no longer screaming.
"Dib?" Zim let his hand fall from his lips
Dib turned his head, his eyes opening. Zim had seen zombies, monsters and demons, but only now had he seen what darkness birthed those horrors. It was in Dib's eyes: round and black, with running make-up making black tear-like streaks over pale skin, glitter masquerading as shattered dreams. Dib's bottom lip quivered to the same beat as his body. Zim realized he'd left the water on cold and quickly turned it off.
The human stared at him, the dead eyes reminding the Irkin of a puppet or doll. Dib made a few choking sounds as he tried to vomit, only succeeding in dry heaves and making his insides lurch.
"What the hell happened to you..." Zim asked, unable to sound angry even though fury ran through his every cell.
Dib's voice wavered as his body continued to shake. "I don't understand what's going on..." He sounded like a lost child, his arms snaking around his knees as he curled into a ball, continuing to rock.
Zim raked his fingers through the wet and glitter-gel-matted hair, wiping it away from the human's face. "You're on something," he said coolly, trying not to alarm his roommate further. The wet youth began to sob.
"Why did you put me in this coffin?" he asked. "I don't like the dark...things can get you in the dark. They live under the ground. Did you know that?"
Zim shook his head. "Dib, you're not in a coffin. You're in our bathtub."
"They're the same ones that live under your bed. They wait for you underground. That's where they get you. And no one can hear you scream because they think you're dead and the dead don't scream."
Zim wanted to close his ears, wishing he were still in bed and that Dib had been able to walk himself home. "Shut up, Dib. Just shut up!"
Dib continued to rock himself. "I don't want to shut up. If I stop then I'll be dead. Dead people don't scream, Zim. Dead people don't scream." He curled up tighter, hiding from the visions that plagued his vision even when his eyes were closed. "She screamed, Zim. That's how I knew. I've always known."
The tile made a sickening crack as Dib threw his head back, smashing it into the hard wall. Zim jumped, drawing the human to him, even though his chest was unprotected from the cool, wet water. Dib seemed fazed, still conscious but obviously affected by the impact.
"Damn it, Dib!" Zim checked his eyes for signs of a concussion, but with all the other symptoms flowing through his weak earth body, it was near impossible to tell. He dragged him out of the tub, immediately setting forth to rip the wet clothing from his body until all that was left was wet flesh on the cool tile. He rubbed the human down with towels until he was dry enough for Zim to hold without killing himself in the process.
Zim carried him back to his own bed, laying him on the side near the wall and scooting in behind him, his arms instantly surrounding the frightened human. "You have to stay awake for me, Dib," he murmured, adjusting their positions so Zim was sitting up with his back against the wall and Dib's head rested in his lap. Dib was unresponsive. "Dib, open your eyes real quick. Let me see them."
The tired lids flickered open, a small band of gold outlining the black.
"When she stopped screaming, I knew they had gotten her," Dib continued, his brows pinched in pain.
"Don't do this, Dib." Zim bit his lip, watching the head in his lap stare into nothingness as if everything existed within it. "You've gotta get better. How long is this supposed to last?"
Tears ran down the human's face, though his mouth quirked into a smile. "I'm scared, Zim…"
The Irkin nodded, looking away from the sickening sight before him. "I'm gonna have to wake you up every five minutes, Dib. But try to get some sleep. It'll be better in the morning."
Silently he prayed he was right.
**
I wish I had written that better. Consider this a teaser. Perhaps I'll write that last part again and fix it up....
~Niko
As always, Zim, Dib and Invader Zim are not my property, but belong to Jhonen! I do however own Jax and Nye...sadly. Oh and blame Nye for the R rating. It only gets worse from here on, too.
Sorry if the writing sucks, especially after the scene break. Real Life (yes, the biggest bitch of them all) has zapped most of my creativity through agonizing depression. But I MUST prevail because, like Gir, I will explode if I don't write. It happens to me sometimes.
I swear, I'm gonna write a comedy one of these days. I've got the best idea too so no one take it! When I'm in a funny mood perhaps I will share this fic with everyone...
***
At the Jezebel lights, music, and action floated in a vortex of flesh and sweat, reflecting off of the emotions and adrenaline that rushed through like a rapid pulse. Bodies ground against each other on the dance floor in mimicked sexual prowess, thrusting and caressing with a shadow lover to the beat of re-mixed lust. Smoke from machines and red painted lips put a haze on the crowd like fog over London, filling the easily subjected minds with mystic, faraway thoughts. Glasses clinked in drunken cheers, while corners hid the drugged up prophets preaching words of love and free statement. The smells that permeated the red velvet sofas and black leather bar stools polluted the mind and teased the senses with the musk and promise of sex. People could come alive behind the ruby door with the flashing neon sign. The Jezebel was a place for the zombies of the day to remember the full moon and the creatures of the night to feed on the power of persuasion in the mix of music and scantly clad fairies that almost floated through the musky mist.
Jax shielded his eyes from the off beat strobe lights that flickered like soundless lightning as he wandered towards the bar, random hands stretching out to touch his suede covered ass as he half danced to the back of the room. It was almost considered rude not to caress objects one observed worthy or desirable. With his unkempt moss green hair and exposed, defined chest whispered with glitter, pants that hung dangerously low off of his hips and bright blue eyes lined in coal, the young man was used to the attention.
The bar was suddenly spread before him; the line between dance floor and disgruntled drunks was small but clear and a breath of fresh air from the confined mass of bodies. The bartender looked up with a look of recognition, letting the towel in his hand stop it's circular movements over the clean stretch of the plastic and metal counter.
"What the fuck you want?" The voice was strung with a jesting humor and the youthful face alight with mischief. The bartender pointed to an open seat and waited for Jax to seat himself. "My manager's in back so order whatever. Fucking lunatic. Why the fuck's he care if you're a minor?"
Jax smiled. "I'm good. I'm gonna head out of here soon anyway, Nye."
The bartender spat, throwing his dirty towel in Jax's face. "See if I fuckin' get you in 'ere next time, if you're gonna be a pussy and leave before midnight."
"It's two in the morning, Nye."
"Don't correct me!" Nye took back his dirty towel and laid it back on the countertop, blowing his blond bangs out of jade eyes. "Just get the fuck outta here. And take that nut case friend of yours with you! I ain't draggin' his sorry ass back to the dorms."
Jax took a momentary pause to look around, surveying the occupied stools for any familiar faces. "Where is he?"
"How the fuck should I know? I'm a fucking bartender! I tend the fucking bar. I don't wander around looking for fucking freshman who get lost in the fucking club!"
"Workin' ya hard?"
"Open to fucking closing!" Nye tossed a bottled beer to a customer. "Damned stoner fuck."
Jax sighed in pity, straightening up and stretching just a tad to relieve his muscles. "Guess I'll see you back at the house, then."
"Not fucking likely!" Nye shouted over the crowd as Jax moved back into the mass of dancing ravers.
Jax melted into the group like teenage hearts over pop gods while the speakers busted hateful lyrics to killer beats. Every color of the rainbow flowed before him in a sea of Goths and preps alike, flaming red hair chasing violet like pixilated video games. On one of the ruby sofas sat a black figure, seemingly oblivious to the frantic fever of the room. Jax smiled smugly to himself, swerving around a couple that had forgotten the world in their rapture and pleasure pursuit. His feet cascaded across the slick floor for an eternity until his hands grazed the soft velvet and eyes captured the pale radiance that sat upon it.
"Ya had enough, Dib?" Jax took his hand from the cloth and rested it against the mesh-covered shoulder, shaking him slightly. "Come on. I'm gonna take you home."
Dib's head bobbed up and down until at last a thread of vomit spewed from his lips and splashed against the dance floor. None seemed to notice, even though the very smell threatened Jax's own internal expulsion. He looked away with a grimace, biting his lip as he thought of what to do with the inebriated youth. "Aw, Dib...you're gonna get Nye fired." Deciding on the original plan, and hoping to spare Nye from any unneeded explanations to his employer, Jax leaned down and put one arm around his friend's bare midriff. "Don't make me carry you outta here, Dib. Put your arm around my shoulders and help me out, okay?"
Dib made his best impression of a nod as he gracelessly pulled his arm up and around his friend and allowed himself to be escorted into the streets where the air was fresh and cool.
**
College dorms were small no matter which building one stayed in. The two-person living space consisted of a small bathroom, two closets, two desks and two beds, with too little room between for movement. Perhaps it was an exaggeration, but Zim missed his endless labs and house back in what he'd learned to call Home. College life was so different from his life before, even before Earth. Whether it was better or worse didn't ring clear. It was just different.
The late night/early morning knock on the door wasn't though. It was routine enough to make the Irkin sick.
Tossing his legs over the side of the bed and wincing as his bare feet came into contact with the cold, hardwood floor, Zim stood, letting the covers fall to the bed. He soundlessly walked to the door, not even bothering with the peephole or cracking it open just enough to see who stood there. He merely opened the door and stood back, waiting for someone to drag his roommate in.
As usual, it was Jax. Zim sneered audibly, following his back as he drifted in like bad luck and deposited Dib on his bed.
"What is it this time?" he spat, unable to keep the loathing from his voice.
The tall figure stood, his bushy hair and blue eyes the only thing visible in his silhouette. "I guess he drank too much. I really wasn't watching him."
Zim was holding the door open, waiting for the unwanted visitor to get the idea and leave already.
Jax shuddered at the coldness in the weird green guy's posture and speech, making his way around him and out the door as quickly as possible. "Sorry about this. Tell Dib I'll see him tomorrow."
The door slammed shut between "sor" and "ry".
Zim turned the lights of the room on, washing Dib in color that he otherwise lacked. His skin was deathly pale; had always been as long as he had known him. The black clothing only helped aid the ghostly appearance. Zim walked purposely towards the other's bed, hovering over his with a set grimace.
"Well, Dib, did you have fun?"
Dib didn't say a word. His head lolled to one side.
Slightly worried, Zim sat on the edge of the bed and turned Dib's head towards him. Apparently Jax had helped him get ready for the night. They both shared the same black outlined eyes and rivers of glitter sparkled across the translucent skin. The eyes were half open, tiny slits of life under black lashes. Dib seemed to look up at Zim, cringing immediately and closing his eyes.
"What happened?" Dib asked, keeping his eyes firmly closed.
Zim hissed. "I should be asking you that. How many times is someone going to have to bring you back before you learn your limit?"
Dib swallowed, shaking his head slowly. "I meant to you..."
"To me?" Zim looked over himself quickly. He looked just about as normal as anyone would after being woken up at two in the morning. He was bare-chested in pajama bottoms of fuchsia and red, moonlight filtering in and illuminating him by the window over Dib's bed.
"You're covered in blood..." Dib muttered, opening one eye and closing it immediately afterwards.
Zim's eyes widened madly. There was not a trace of blood anywhere. "Dib...are you..." He put one had on either side of his roommate's face, angling it with his own. With his thumbs, he pried the eyelids up, gasping and internally cursing. The once golden eyes were nothing but black with the expanse of his pupils. "Shit, Dib, what did you do?"
Dib ripped Zim's hands from his face, screaming at the top of his lungs. "Get off me! Don't bleed on me! Your blood is like acid!" He curled up into a ball as Zim pushed himself away from the bed, looking down upon the scene. "It burns! Oh God... Make it stop!"
Zim cringed, watching the obvious pain play across the other's face, though there was nothing physically hurting him. Zim stepped closer, daring to lean over the bed as he had done before. "Dib, there's nothing there," he said firmly. "There's no blood. It's all in your head."
Dib seemed to calm down a bit, but his hands continued gliding up and down his arms to sooth the burning. "Make it stop, Zim. Make it stop," he pleaded, his closed eyes turning towards the direction of Zim's voice.
The Irkin laid his hand once more on the young man's flesh, only to hear him scream out again.
"Oh God...why does it have to hurt?"
Fed up and seriously freaked out, Zim hastily lifted the human from the bed with a series of pained shouts and moans from invisible injuries. With just as much warning as he had given before lifting the crazed youth, Zim set him down into the bathtub.
Apparently it was a worse idea than touching him.
Dib's screams reached a new level as he clawed at the sides of the tub, his fingertips raw as they scathed the smooth surface furiously.
"No! I'm alive! Don't bury me! Please! I'm alive! I don't want to be in here!"
Zim shrank back, his right hand reaching out and turning on the shower. The cold water burst out faster than he had anticipated, a few drops sprinkling his bare flesh. With a hiss of real pain, not imagined as Dib's was, Zim pulled his hand back, putting it to his mouth and attempting to suck the hurt away.
Perhaps it was then that he realized Dib was no longer screaming.
"Dib?" Zim let his hand fall from his lips
Dib turned his head, his eyes opening. Zim had seen zombies, monsters and demons, but only now had he seen what darkness birthed those horrors. It was in Dib's eyes: round and black, with running make-up making black tear-like streaks over pale skin, glitter masquerading as shattered dreams. Dib's bottom lip quivered to the same beat as his body. Zim realized he'd left the water on cold and quickly turned it off.
The human stared at him, the dead eyes reminding the Irkin of a puppet or doll. Dib made a few choking sounds as he tried to vomit, only succeeding in dry heaves and making his insides lurch.
"What the hell happened to you..." Zim asked, unable to sound angry even though fury ran through his every cell.
Dib's voice wavered as his body continued to shake. "I don't understand what's going on..." He sounded like a lost child, his arms snaking around his knees as he curled into a ball, continuing to rock.
Zim raked his fingers through the wet and glitter-gel-matted hair, wiping it away from the human's face. "You're on something," he said coolly, trying not to alarm his roommate further. The wet youth began to sob.
"Why did you put me in this coffin?" he asked. "I don't like the dark...things can get you in the dark. They live under the ground. Did you know that?"
Zim shook his head. "Dib, you're not in a coffin. You're in our bathtub."
"They're the same ones that live under your bed. They wait for you underground. That's where they get you. And no one can hear you scream because they think you're dead and the dead don't scream."
Zim wanted to close his ears, wishing he were still in bed and that Dib had been able to walk himself home. "Shut up, Dib. Just shut up!"
Dib continued to rock himself. "I don't want to shut up. If I stop then I'll be dead. Dead people don't scream, Zim. Dead people don't scream." He curled up tighter, hiding from the visions that plagued his vision even when his eyes were closed. "She screamed, Zim. That's how I knew. I've always known."
The tile made a sickening crack as Dib threw his head back, smashing it into the hard wall. Zim jumped, drawing the human to him, even though his chest was unprotected from the cool, wet water. Dib seemed fazed, still conscious but obviously affected by the impact.
"Damn it, Dib!" Zim checked his eyes for signs of a concussion, but with all the other symptoms flowing through his weak earth body, it was near impossible to tell. He dragged him out of the tub, immediately setting forth to rip the wet clothing from his body until all that was left was wet flesh on the cool tile. He rubbed the human down with towels until he was dry enough for Zim to hold without killing himself in the process.
Zim carried him back to his own bed, laying him on the side near the wall and scooting in behind him, his arms instantly surrounding the frightened human. "You have to stay awake for me, Dib," he murmured, adjusting their positions so Zim was sitting up with his back against the wall and Dib's head rested in his lap. Dib was unresponsive. "Dib, open your eyes real quick. Let me see them."
The tired lids flickered open, a small band of gold outlining the black.
"When she stopped screaming, I knew they had gotten her," Dib continued, his brows pinched in pain.
"Don't do this, Dib." Zim bit his lip, watching the head in his lap stare into nothingness as if everything existed within it. "You've gotta get better. How long is this supposed to last?"
Tears ran down the human's face, though his mouth quirked into a smile. "I'm scared, Zim…"
The Irkin nodded, looking away from the sickening sight before him. "I'm gonna have to wake you up every five minutes, Dib. But try to get some sleep. It'll be better in the morning."
Silently he prayed he was right.
**
I wish I had written that better. Consider this a teaser. Perhaps I'll write that last part again and fix it up....
~Niko