Author's Notes: Well, where did this come out of? The dark recesses of my mind unfortunately. I'm a bit pressed for time lately and was getting frustrated because I needed to sit down and spend some time on Deadly Alliances. So I decided to write anything just because I was dying to write something and this is what I came up with. I don't really know what to think of it but I thought I might as well post it as not… what ya gonna do, eh?

Disclaimer: Invader Zim and related characters do not belong to me. They are property of his worship Jhonen Vasquez and satanic Nick.

Warnings: This fic is pretty much a plot what plot. (I never though I'd write one, bad Anachia!) Anyway, it contains S&M, references to blood letting and drinking and (as is becoming all to usual for me) SLASH! Got a problem with that? Easily solved…don't read. I will not be held responsible for idiotic minds destroyed by this garbage.

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How did I get myself into this situation? I've been asking that same question for quite some time now. I suppose it began where it really should have ended, when I found out the truth about Zim. The truth even he had not known.

I remember the feeling. I think it was the closest I ever came to real happiness. He was a failure and Earth was his punishment. I remember laughing at him as he stood there staring dumbfounded at those leaders of his. I remember how he pleaded with them for another chance, for an opportunity to prove himself. They didn't even look at him, more interested in their nachos than the life they had just torn to shreds...and I remember him crying. He became oblivious to me. His strength failed him and he collapsed to the floor, sobbing. And then it hit me. He was nothing to fear. A broken, lost boy. He was abandoned and afraid. And I left him. Maybe I could have been the better person and...I dunno, comforted him or something but that wasn't me. I had done what I had set out to do. I had stopped Zim from conquering the Earth! And that's when everything changed.

I woke the next full of hope. Every waking hour would no longer be dedicated to stopping him, to knowing his every move. I could finally begin to live my life. Endless new opportunities were open to me and for a while I embraced them. After school and at weekends I would go out hunting for other creatures of the paranormal but they just became so...boring, like the world had faded to grey. There was no more excitement. My life had become monotonous.

When I had been chasing Zim everything was electric. I never had time to think, really think. My every waking moment centred on him and now that he was no longer a threat I began to grow bored. Life fell into a dreary cycle. I got up, went to school, did my homework and went to bed. I just didn't have the compulsion to look for Big Foot or the Jersey Devil. They were nothing compared to my alien.

Zim too changed. He became introverted. He came to school late and left straight after. He never spoke to anyone and he completely avoided me. I think he was embarrassed or something. I mean, he had been ranting and raving about ruling the planet with an iron fist and once he learned he was nothing more than a cosmic joke, well, it must have been a real kick in the teeth.

…and I remember the first time I intentionally cut myself. I was pealing an apple when the knife slipped, piercing my finger. The pain was intoxicating. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as the blood fell from my injured appendage and stained the fruit. It made me feel alive. Shaking, I picked up the sharp steel and slowly brought it across the fleshy part of my hand. The sensation was almost orgasmic. I felt so real, like I had just woken up from a dream.

After that I began to cut myself on an almost daily basis. I needed it like a drug. The sharp pain followed by the light after rush of adrenaline was so intense, I couldn't stop myself. And for the first time in my life I was glad for my neglectful family. I'm still certain had they even acknowledged my presence they would have known straight away what I was doing to myself. That in itself became part of the thrill. I would tear open my skin and then parade around in front of my sister or father daring them to notice. They never did, even those times when I became faint from the sudden blood loss they just shrugged it off as one of my eccentricities.

To this day I'll never know if Zim noticed and I'm sure I'll never ask him. How he came into this story is his business and what's happening between us rarely involves conversation...

One night, after I scored a long cut down the inside of my arm and lay back to indulge in the after shock, he broke into my room. I though I was hallucinating from lack of blood at first. I think he was surprised by my lack of reaction. He stalked closer to me and it was only when he cursed after stubbing his toe on some of the rubbish scattered on my bedroom floor that I realised he was real. I fumbled for the knife I had just used on myself in my bedside locker but Zim had the upper hand. He grabbed both my arms in a vice like grip wrenching them high above my head. I kicked at him and he cursed in his native language as my foot connected with his stomach. He never once let go of my hands though, making it difficult for me to escape. I think he was trying to grab my hip or something but in the darkness his hand fell short of its target and he ran it across my groin. Immediately I ceased my struggles staring at him with wide eyes. In that one moment I think I though he had intended on raping me. Looking back now I almost laugh at loud, this whole situation really is my fault.

His sharp mind immediately registered the reaction that one fleeting touch had evoked and he smirked down at me. I resumed struggling but he hit me across the temple with his laser gun and knocked me unconscious.

When I came to he had secured my hands above my head with those handcuffs I had threatened him with the first time we met. The irony still makes me crack up. I don't think I'll ever know how he found them. He was straddling my waist, idly playing with the knife I routinely used on myself. He glanced down at me before looking back to the knife in his hands. It was still stained with drops of my blood, I guess I hadn't cleaned it properly the last time I used it. Still with his eyes on the knife he spoke. "Dib, Dib, Dib...you really are in trouble now." He smiled in true evil maniac fashion before licking the knife clean. Futilely I began to struggle against my bonds. Zim had never done anything like this before. I liked him better when he was predictable, this new side to him scared me...and deep down I knew I relished it. My body was alive like never before, fully aware of my surroundings, the sadistic alien straddling my hips in particular.

Without a word, Zim brought the knife to my stomach, easily cutting through my T-shirt. He pulled the material back to reveal my pale chest, arching his eye-brow at the numerous scars scoring my skin. Swiftly he cut away the rest of the material and deposited the shreds on my bedroom floor. He leaned forward and ran a finger along the most recent cut I had inflicted. The slight pressure caused it to open again and I felt the blood slowly seep from the wound and onto my pillow. I winced as the pain shot through me, closing my eyes and wallowing in it despite the situation. Zim chuckled at me and the depraved reaction he had caused. I saw the knife glint momentarily in the moonlight before he brought it to my neck. I pulled as far back from him as I could but he followed, pressing the sharp metal closer and closer to my ghostly skin. He leaned in close to me, his lips whispering across my ear lobe as he spoke. "I could so easily bring your life to an end, right here, right now, Dib. With one stroke I could spill your blood across us both. You know I could and you know me well enough to know I probably will..." He pulled his face back from my ear and leaned back to stare down at me. He pressed the knife harder to my neck, eliciting a cry from me. "And you get off on it…don't you?"

I didn't look at him, I couldn't. I didn't bother to deny it. He could see from body's reaction exactly how I felt about the situation. Instead I tried to block it out, to occupy my mind in other ways until Zim grew bored. The knife running across my chest destroyed any chance I might have had of success. Unconsciously I arched my body against Zim's, closing my eyes to savour the after affects. I glanced up to see a thin line of blood accumulate above my collar bone. Zim smirked down at me before suddenly he descended upon my chest enclosing the wound with his hot mouth.

I couldn't contain myself and I think I called out to my Maker. I never in my life expected something to feel so good. Zim nipped and licked the area, aggravating the wounded flesh. The sensation was so vivid and real. I struggled against the cuffs securing my arms wanting to reach out but Zim quickened ceased my struggles. He pinned my arms with his own, digging his nails into my flesh and puncturing the skin in places. He leaned back on my hips once more and I groaned loudly at the contact. He tut tutted at my lack of control, shaking his head mockingly. He brought the knife to my chest and achingly slowly he scored it from my collar bones to my belly button. I gasped and grinded myself against him as much as my restrained position would allow. In a flash he was by my face once more, lips pressed to my ear and knife once more threatening to spill me open. "Be a good boy, Dib and shut up or I'll just kill you right now." The thrill of fear turned me on more than anything previous. In retaliation Zim ran a hand through my hair before grabbing it roughly and yanking it back. He danced the knife over my exposed neck, wallowing in my fear. He was completely in control of this situation and he could end it whenever he wanted.

Once he was confident I had learned my lesson he returned his attentions to my chest, running his tongue along the cut he had just inflicted. I tried to keep quiet but I hissed when he descended lower. Zim either didn't notice or didn't care. He picked up the knife once more and ran it along the waist band of my sweat pants/pyjamas. My breathing became rapid as it grazed my most sensitive area. I felt the entire hilt of the knife slip underneath the waist band and began to panic. I tried to struggle but he was straddling my thighs. The cotton material easily ripped when Zim tugged the knife against it. He didn't bother to remove my sweat pants entirely, I suppose he thought I'd try and escape when he got up to do so. He played the knife across my hip bone, slicing it. Again he bent down to lick the blood, pinching my right thigh simultaneously. I fought against my every being not to cry out when he did so. He must have noticed this because the next thing I knew he was leaning over my again, holding my arms tight in his own. "Did you ever taste your own blood, Dib?" He loomed over me, looking far larger than his slight frame. I simply stared back at him. He looked dangerous, threatening. He smirked before bringing the knife down on my arm, pressing deeper than he had before. I cried out, tears forming in my eyes. He ignored me, bringing a finger to the cut once enough had acclimated. Carefully he brought the drop to my lips. Instinctively I licked the red liquid from his finger, maintaining eye contact the entire time. He smiled evilly before he began to suck on the cut himself. Once satisfied he turned back to me and before I knew what was really happening he kissed me forcefully. I tasted my own coppery blood on him as he plundered my mouth. I returned the kiss with equal fervour before all to hastily he pulled away, turning his attention to my neck. I gasped and pulled against my bounds. I could feel him smiling against my skin. His hands trailed down my body, coming to a stop between my legs. His mouth quickly followed. He looked up at me briefly before taking my hardness in his mouth. I know I called out then, how could I have not? The sensations were just too much, the pain, the fear, the pleasure. I think I must have blacked out when I came because the next thing I knew he was looming over me again. Giving me his patented pathetic human look. He ran his eyes over my abused body once more before abruptly getting off the bed. He dusted himself down as if he had just got up after having tea and scones. He didn't look back once as he left through the window. I'm not sure how I would have reacted if he had. It took me a full three hours to free myself...

More often than not he breaks into my room for a repeat. I'll admit I do make it slightly easier by never locking the window. The other times I'll just happen to be walking past his base. We always separate immediately after. Once I made the mistake of falling asleep in his base. He picked me up and uncermionusly threw me out the front door. My clothes followed over ten minutes after. He really is a sadist.

In all other respects nothing has changed. We still carry on our lives as normal, each continuing to ignore the other at school and pretty much anywhere outside the bedroom. I can't really say it bothers me. It's not like I care for him or anything and I know he couldn't give a toss about me. We just...need each other, in a way no other person on the planet needs another. I can't get enough of the feeling when we're together. I know its wrong. Normal, sane people don't have crazy S&M sex with their enemy but I honestly don't know what to do any more. I'll fade away if I don't get the rush I receive when he hurts me. I can't live without it, without him. It's an addiction. He...he just makes me feel alive.

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Ta da! I really meant this as a one short but my twisted mind is playing around with this idea. I just can't write one shots! It's like an illness or something! Either way it won't be up dated until August because I'm working in the U.S. for the summer and shall be computer-less. I have no idea how I'll cope.

For anyone reading Deadly Alliances, I will have it finished. I'm currently in the process of editing the next chapter. Sorry for the delay, it should be up tomorrow at the latest!