The Park
It was a sunny Saturday. The air was warm and there was a light breeze. Dib decided to go to the park. And of course, he dragged his favorite little alien along.
"I don't understand your fascination with plants," Zim commented as he grudgingly walked next to the tall human. "Sure, they're pretty. But they don't really have much purpose…"
"Don't have much purpose?" Dib repeated. "Dude, they take in harmful carbon dioxide and emit oxygen. Humans breathe oxygen."
"Oh, right. Wait, this is oxygen we're breathing?" Zim looked surprised by this bit of information. "Huh."
Dib sighed. "Didn't you pay attention in science class for the last…" He counted the number of years Zim has been here, "Five years?"
"Nope. I already knew all of it and I BSed the tests." Zim leaned down to examine a bee as it alighted on a flower, sucking out the nectar. A thin film of pollen coated its fat body.
"You know, because of a bee's ratio of wing surface area to body weight, they shouldn't even be able to fly," Dib said, realizing that Zim seemed interested in the tiny creature. It buzzed its tiny wings and took off, as though it wanted to prove him wrong.
"Yes, I was curious about that." Zim poked the bee and it quickly shied away from him, buzzing in another direction. "It has such a fat little body and tiny wings. They must have some kind of anti-gravity propulsion device!" He grabbed it and held it so its short stinger couldn't stab him. He turned it around several different ways, staring at it from all angles.
"Zim, bees don't have access to technology. They're insects."
"I knew that!" Zim threw the bee into the air. It righted itself and raced away, stopping amidst a bunch of bright red wildflowers.
"If you're done harassing bees, let's go." Dib started leading him through the park again. They walked until they reached a small pond with ducks in it. He reached into the inside pocket of his trench coat and took out a bag with old bread in it.
"What's that for?" Zim asked, backing up. The bread didn't look like it was good for eating anymore.
"The ducks." Dib opened it and passed him some of the bread. "Throw small pieces out to them. Like this." He pulled a small piece out and tossed it into the pond. The ducks crowded around it, quacking at each other and fighting for it. The lucky one snapped it up and swallowed.
Before they could disperse, Zim threw a piece. They instantly raced for it.
"This is fun! Let's see if I can get them to fight to the death." Zim threw several pieces into the water. The ducks pushed each other out of the way, wings flaring, and beaks darting for the treat. Zim laughed and jumped from foot to foot. He was obviously enjoying this.
Dib threw an entire slice of bread to see what would happen. About three ducks grabbed it from different sides and ripped it apart. It soon disappeared down their hungry beaks.
Zim threw more bread. He was so focused on watching the ducks fight that he failed to notice the much larger, more dangerous water fowl prancing gracefully toward him.
Dib noticed it far too late. "Zim, goose!"
"What's a goose?" Zim asked. Then the goose bit fiercely at his hand. He howled in pain and dropped all the bread he had left. The goose rushed it, eating all of it in seconds. Then it raised its head and gave Zim a look that was almost evil. He paled at the large bird's staring at him. He spread his hands. "I don't have any more!"
The goose looked at Dib and started for him, wings spread threateningly.
Dib threw his remaining bread into the pond, distracting the goose. Then he grabbed Zim's hand and ran with him, trying to get as far away from the killer bird as possible. To their relief, it didn't chase them, too busy scaring away the ducks so it could get the bread.
"What was that?" Zim demanded when they stopped in the playground, leaning against the jungle gym.
"That was a goose," Dib replied, panting from running. "They're very big and very mean."
"No kidding." Zim glanced toward the distant pond and saw the goose busy terrorizing the ducks.
Dib looked down at Zim's hand. "You're bleeding!"
"Huh?" Zim raised his hand and saw a half circle of teeth marks. Geese don't have actual teeth, but their beaks are serrated for cutting through their food. Purple blood ran down his hand and wrist.
"Here." Dib led him over to a water fountain. "Water doesn't hurt you anymore, does it?"
"No, I built immunity," Zim replied, though still looked uncomfortable at the thought of water touching his hand.
"Okay." Dib turned the fountain on and washed the blood from Zim's hand. Zim flinched. "Does it hurt?" Dib asked quickly.
"No. It's just cold."
Dib led him over the nearby bathroom and got a length of paper towel, wrapping it tightly around Zim's hand to stop it from bleeding. He tied it and let go. "How's that?"
Zim flexed his fingers. His hand still stung, but the pressure of the towel made it less painful. He smiled. "Great." He glared at the pond, shaking his fist in the direction of the goose that was now calmly floating on the water. "Foul, wretched creature of feathers! You will be the first to die!"
"Let's just go this way."
They kept walking along the trail that wound around the entire park. Zim slipped his uninjured hand into Dib's, clutching it tightly. Zim noticed a band of teenagers, all male, standing around near the playground. He didn't pay them much mind at first. They were probably just a group of friends enjoying the warm weather, like he and Dib were. Then he saw a little kid carrying a balloon happily run for the slide. He smiled and watched him instead. When he passed the group of boys, one pulled something sharp out of his pocket and popped it.
The kid stared at the string as it flopped down before starting to cry.
Zim nudged Dib, pointing. "Did you see that?"
"See what?" Dib asked. He had been watching the cars drive by on the road outside of the park.
"One of those boys popped that kid's balloon!"
Dib looked. "Ugh. Probably a gang. Just ignore them. We can't go picking fights."
"I know that. But still… someone should shoot them." Zim's eyes brightened as an idea came to mind.
Dib reached behind him and grabbed the spiderleg as it shot out of Zim's PAK, not even needing to look to know that it was happening. "No lasers."
Zim whined, trying to wrench the leg free. Its end sparked. "Oh, come on. Just one."
"No, Zim."
With a growl of annoyance and a powerful force of will, Zim retracted the leg. "You always have to ruin my fun." He latched onto Dib's arm. Dib started to smile, thinking that Zim had gotten over it and was being affectionate; then he gasped when the sharp claws sliced through his coat sleeve and pierced his arm. It didn't make him bleed, but it still hurt.
"Ow! Zim!" Dib pulled that arm free and rolled the sleeve back to assess the damage.
"That's for shooting down my idea," Zim said, smirking. He waited for Dib to pull his sleeve down before grabbing the arm again, clutching it possessively. "Mine."
Dib reached over with his free hand to stroke the irken's head, feeling carefully under the wig for the thin antennae. He let his finger ghost down the side of one. Zim's knees shook unsteadily and a purr escaped his throat. He put more of his weight on Dib, not trusting his own legs. "Stop that," he ordered quietly.
"Why should I?"
"Because, Dib-creature, I said so." Zim's attempt at an order came out rather pathetically as his voice took on a softer quality. It was really hard to focus when those skilled fingers swept gently over his antenna, making tingles of pleasure race through him.
Dib smiled; Zim was cute when he tried to be threatening. He let go of his antenna and leaned down to kiss him gently.
Zim eagerly responded to it, hands going to the other's shoulders to pull him closer. He was just getting into it when a rock suddenly hit him on the side of the head. He hissed in pain, accidentally nipping Dib's lower lip as he pulled back.
Dib wiped his mouth off. "Ow, what was that all about?"
"Something hit me," Zim said, looking around and locating the rock. He picked it up. "Who threw this?"
He saw the gang of teenage boys laughing nearby.
He advanced toward them, totally fearless.
"Zim," Dib warned, but Zim ignored him.
They stopped laughing as Zim stopped in front of them, their expressions turning annoyed. "What do you want?" the tallest of them, obviously the leader, snapped.
"Which one of you threw this?" Zim asked in a low, dangerous voice.
Dib gulped; now he was more afraid for the boys than for Zim. He knew better than anyone that when Zim used that tone, he was about to get aggressive.
None of them replied, but the subtle shifting of the leader and the slight aversion of his eyes alerted Zim that it was him. He hissed loudly and hit him in the face with the rock. One of its sharp edges nicked his cheek and made it start bleeding. Zim grinned victoriously. "That'll teach you to mess with Zim." He started back for Dib when several more rocks hit him in the back of the head. He swore in irken and whipped back toward them.
Dib rushed forward, grabbing Zim's arms and trying to drag him back. "Zim, just let it go. We don't want any trouble."
"Well you've got trouble now." The gang leader ran forward surprisingly quick and kicked Zim in the gut. With a gasp of pain, Zim fell to the ground, curling in on himself as pain raced through him.
That was it. No one hurt Zim. Ever. Dib reached into his trench coat and closed his fingers around the handle of the pistol he had taken from Membrane's lab. "You better clear off now," he said. "Or I might have to start putting bullets through every single one of you."
In response, every single one of them whipped out a knife. Spotting the danger, Zim crawled to get behind Dib, still holding his stomach and coughing. The steel-tipped boot had hurt. He was recovering quickly, though. "Get them, Dib!" he shouted.
"Your boyfriend doesn't stand a chance against us," one of the other boys said. He was of medium height, with dark hair and eyes. What looked like a scar from a knife crossed over one of his eyes.
Dib's hand tensed over the handle of his weapon. He didn't want to, but if he had to, he would use it. "Why did you hit him with the rock?" he asked calmly, thinking that he might be able to talk some sense into them. And if that failed, maybe he could just confuse them enough to get away.
"This is our park. No homos allowed," the dark-eyed boy replied, eyes narrowing with anger.
Zim was fully recovered now and swaggered to his feet. "What do you have against us?" he hissed, drawing Dib close in an effort to protect him.
"Little sickos like you are the last thing we need around here." The leader motioned for the others to attack.
Dib pulled his gun out and aimed it at them, backing away. "I'll shoot." He aimed at the leader of the gang in particular.
"You can't get all of us."
All four of Zim's spiderlegs sprouted and aimed at the remaining boys. "Is that so?" he hissed. The points charged with energy.
The approaching boys faltered, glancing to their leader with uncertainty.
"Get them!" he roared.
"Dib, on three!" Zim shouted. Then he hissed out the words in irken so the others wouldn't understand and therefore be taken by surprise. "One… two… three!"
Dib shot the leader's leg, making him cry out in pain and fall to the ground. The others would have kept going, but suddenly found themselves missing arms or legs. Zim fired again.
"Zim, stop!" Dib shouted in horror. He had only aimed to wound; Zim was aiming to kill.
"No! They deserve to die!" Zim loomed over them like a nightmare vision, ready to shoot the lasers again and end their suffering. They pleaded desperately for mercy. Zim didn't listen.
Dib grabbed him and tried to pull him back. "Just leave them! You've already hurt them far more than they hurt you!"
"They had intents to kill us," Zim replied coldly. "Only do unto others what you want done to you. They threatened us with death? Fine. We'll threaten them with death. But we'll keep our threat."
"But what if the police find out it was us who did it?"
Zim's eyes flashed. "I was trained to kill without leaving a trace. And dead men tell no tales." With a simple mental command to his PAK, he shot every single one of them straight through the heart, killing them instantly. "This place will be better off without scum like them running around."
Dib swallowed and turned away from the appalling sight. He took Zim's hand, feeling sick. "Let's get out of here."
They hurried away, not stopping until they were safely back in Zim's house.
That night, the local news discussed the murders and begged for anyone who had information to call them. The police had no leads. And they wouldn't be getting any. In time, the incident will pass from everyone's minds, just like bad news always did.
Dib decided it might just be better to go to a movie next time.