Warnings: Slash, both ZADR and a pairing involving Dib and some other IZ
guy who shall remain anonymous until I tell you. Also, slavery, major AU,
and sequel-ness.
Author's Note: Strange Path Leads Me didn't seem quite finished in my eyes (either that, or I was having too much fun with it to quit), so I decided to write this. It's the sequel, but it should take a couple chapters to finish it up. I've got it all written up in a notebook, but I'm still typing the whole thing up. As of right now, I'm finished up to Chapter Three, but I'm going to post the chapters at intervals.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dib (and seeing as how I'm one of his countless fangirls, that's probably a good thing), Zim, Gaz, or anyone else. Okay? Okay. Sue me, and you'll receive a giant IOU and a rubber tree.
Of A Rhinestone Slavery in a Glass Palace
Dib tossed restlessly in his tiny bed. It wasn't even a bed, really. It was a dresser drawer that he had to pull his knees up to his chest to fit into. It was almost coffin-like. He had it shoved against a crumbling brick wall and painted black to blend with the shadows. He'd found a long black board to pull over it as he slept so that no rats would crawl in to nest in his hair during the day, as well as to block out that annoying bulb of light he used to call the sun, but now called "the stupid dangerous bright thing that prevents me from making supply runs and attacking Zim during the day".
But I digress. Dib was tossing restlessly in his tiny bed - though how he managed to toss as restlessly as he did is beyond me. I suppose that after six years of practice of sleeping in a drawer, one adapts. Usually Dib slept soundly, but today, his thoughts were plagued by rusted, unhappy memories.
* * *
"Ha! You're afraid of me, aren't you? You don't want to face wrath of my water balloons!" Dib accused.
"Who won our water war, little Dibby creature? I did! I, the great Zim, beat-ed you with your own watery technology. And I'd win aga-- What!?" Zim cut off his taunting, and stared at Zita as she passed by.
"What's wrong? Finally succumbing to our race's feminine wiles?" Dib mocked.
"What is she wearing!?" Zim demanded, not bothering to point out that Dib had practically just called himself a girl.
"You've been on Earth two years and you still can't recognize a pair of jeans and a t-shirt?" Dib asked, sounding partly confused, but mostly wary. This had to be a joke. Or a trick. Most likely the latter.
"Her… Feet!"
"Oh. Those platform shoes? They may be out of style, but she's popular. She's allowed to revive old trends. Hasn't Jessica given you that lecture yet?"
* * *
As soon as Dib had uttered the words "platform shoes", the fate of the human race was sealed. Ironic how the sole hope for Earth ended up dooming it. If Dib had distracted Zim with more teasing, Zim would have forgotten about the shoes, Zita would have given up on reviving the trend, the Irken forces would have continued to deem Zim's invading too big of a failure to waste the armada on, and Earth would have remained Earth instead of Platformia.
Zim acted smug during the two weeks between his discovery of the shoes and the arrival of the armada. He didn't come to school or leave the house, causing a fatal flaw in his plan: It gave Dib a heightened paranoia and caused him to start listening to his transmitter again. That gave Dib just enough time to yank Gaz out of the house and drag her to the nearest bomb shelter. It did not, however, give him enough time to drag Professor Membrane away from his work. He would have needed a couple millennia's notice in order to manage that.
The armada turned the cities to ashes, leaving nothing behind except for shoe factories and a limited number of workers. Zim himself destroyed Dib's neighborhood -- as the conqueror of Earth, the Tallest were forced to let him participate in the Organic Sweep, but they were not, however, obliged to let him destroy more than a relatively small neighborhood.
There, as he rampaged through the neighborhood, blasting Professor Membrane's laboratory and the scientists inside, Zim yelled the words that tainted Dib's soul forever. "And I would like to thank my Mommy and Daddy for birthing me, and Nana Robot for caring for me as her own progeny and -" Hold on. My mistake. Fast-forward a little. "And thank you to the stinkbeast Dib, who has the biggest head on the planet! Without you, I would have never discovered platform shoes!"
Though less than a paragraph of dialogue, it was really quite a bit to have staining one's soul, especially when paired up with the images of Zim blowing up Dib's father's workstation. Dib had cried every night for weeks, and sometimes still did - tonight being one of those nights. Dib understood that this wasn't a stain that could be taken out with Chlorox Bleach or Tide - though he'd stuck himself in a washing machine on numerous occasions just to make sure.
You're probably asking yourself what could be worse, aren't you? Probably saying "Oh, poor Dib! Go get your revenge on that mean alien invader!" Well I'm sure that Dib would take your advice except for one slight difficulty: Somewhere along the way, he had fallen in love with Zim. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hate Zim; he was just too far gone. He tried to tell himself he did, but, unfortunately, Dib never was very good at lying, and lying to oneself is even more difficult than lying to anyone else, so his attempts as convincing his heart that it was wrong were complete failures. Zim kissing him two years ago most definitely had not helped matters at all… But that's another story entirely.
Since I got off on such a long tangent about Dib's thoughts and memories, I feel the need to set the scene again. We find our hero curled in a fetal position in his little black drawer-bed shadowing him from the sunset. Not quite the most heroic position, but it served its purpose. Dib eventually sensed that the sun had fully set and crept from his bed.
The irony of the situation struck him horribly as it did every morning for the six years he'd lived in the dank alleyway. He, the paranormal genius, crawling through the night and sleeping in a coffin like some common vampire! Grumbling at the injustice, Dib stumbled towards a shattered piece of mirror and ran a hand through his hair. Pointless, because his hair did what it wanted when it wanted. Dib splashed a bit of water on his face from a canteen of clean water hanging at his side - no one would trust any of the puddles on the ground. Dib was fairly certain the rain had been altered to avoid harming the Irkens. It had the texture and taste of paste, making it useless for washing your face.
Without doing anything else - what else could he do? Change clothes? Not likely. Eat? Eat what? Gaz would kill him for touching her cereal and then he'd never get today's mission accomplished! - Dib called over his shoulder, "See you later, I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait up."
"Like I would." Gaz retorted indifferently, and the furious clicking of Gameslave buttons could be heard from behind the burgundy sheet that hid her room from the rest of the world.
"I love you, despite the fact that you don't even care that your only brother is going out to face uncertain (but fairly likely) Doom of an unknown (but decidedly painful) variety." Dib added as he left.
"Shut up."
And so it was that Dib's day started fairly well.
* * *
Three hours later, Dib's day was anything but fairly well. Infiltrating Zim's headquarters, a big building that took up the entire town's former grounds, was never easy, and it had been just his luck to be scorched by one of the lawn gnome defense units near the entrance, immobilizing his left arm. He should have turned back then. But did he? Of course not. He clutched his arm to his chest and continued on.
Dib's next mistake was tripping. Not only did he trip, but he fell against the walls, and as you well know, being walls in a highly advanced race's headquarters, these walls were filled with sensors that alerted the entire base of his location.
No problem, right? Dib was a fast runner, and by now he knew his way around fairly well. He was confident as he raced away. So confident, in fact, that he threw away common sense and took the shortest route out. It was inevitably swarming with guards, effectively cutting off his escape.
Being a left-handed person, Dib couldn't easily fire his handheld laser. Not only did he have horrible aim with his right hand, but by the time he reached his right arm across his body to get to the laser strapped on his belt, the guards would have turned him into Dib powder, or if their laser settings were high enough, nothing but a few random molecules floating in the air.
So, instead of fighting, he stared at the guards for a moment, bewildered. This was a new situation. He'd never ended up at point blank before. Shot at, yes. He'd ran from masses of guards, all shooting the same lasers these guards held now. But that was the difference: He'd ran. This was the first time he had ever been faced with such a situation. He had no chance for escape. There were only two paths he could take: Death or Capture.
Dib weighed both choices carefully. On one hand, hadn't he always stood for "Give me liberty, or give me death!"? Hadn't he vowed never to give in, to always resist? His death, while admittedly not the most incredibly fun thing he would experience, would be the thing any proud believer in freedom would do, right?
Yet, shouldn't he, as the sole hope for Earth's freedom, try to keep that flame of hope alive? He should avoid death, not for the selfish reason that he didn't want to die, but because the resistance had to live on! The remaining population of Earth depended on him! He had to stay alive!
Let's flashforward a bit to see what would have happened had Dib chosen to never surrender. He would have leapt for his laser, and the surprised guards would have been late shooting their lasers, only a few of them shooting as he dodged aside. He would have had an opportunity to run, ducking into several side-chambers to avoid being blasted. The chase would have led them all into the slave-dungeons and there, alas, Dib would be shot down, in front of the eyes of all the hopeless slaves, who had never before even dreamed of resisting. Seeing his death and honoring him as a martyr, one boy would rise above the others to lead a massive slave rebellion and eventually overthrow the Irken empire. This lucky boy would proceed to be leader of a new Earth order, one of complete peace, one that communicated peacefully with the other races of the universe, setting up brilliant trading systems and establishing an intergalactic currency that ended up bridging all peoples into universe-wide peace. For the first time, Dib would have the recognition as a hero, brilliant when others were oblivious and defiant where others were compliant. Now can you guess who this remarkable leader is? No? Well, I don't blame you, but don't worry! We'll be seeing more of him later, not as a world leader but as... You'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Now, moving right along...
Dib stared at the guards, and finally spoke, causing them all to tense, expecting the mocking insults Dib had taken to yelling before bursting forth with some new super-weapon. Our poor hero didn't have any tricks up his sleeve this time, and instead, all he said was, "Oh. I guess I have to surrender then, don't I?" Dib lifted his hands into the air and allowed the puzzled Irkens to strip him of his weapons and hurried him forward in a new direction.
I wonder if Gaz will miss me, Dib mused. I bet she will once she runs out of batteries for her Gameslave. That might take a while, though. I stocked up pretty well...
He was brought to a room that was basked in blue-black shadow. Atop a tall throne, sat Zim, looking decidedly bored. His crimson eyes widened upon seeing his nemesis, and he climbed down from his throne. The guards shoved Dib down into a kneeling position and roughly bound his hands behind his back. When they had finished, Zim sent them away with a regal, sweeping gesture.
Zim stepped directly in front of Dib. Even with his platform shoes, he only barely managed to meet the kneeling human's eyes. "I told you what would happen if I caught you again." he said, fingering his silver inlaid laser gun, as if Dib didn't remember his threat.
"Two years is a long time not to get caught." Dib argued. "I think I did pretty well."
"Not well enough, though." Zim disagreed, placing the laser beam to Dib's neck. The metal was cold, but that wasn't why Dib shivered.
"Don't kill me. You don't really want to!" Dib pleaded, though it revolted him to have to beg like that.
"Oh? And how do you know what I want?" Zim asked dangerously, leaning closer to Dib.
"I don't want to die like this." Dib said, not answering Zim. There was a distinct whimper in his voice. He really didn't want to die like this! Bound, helpless, unable to fight it... He should have run from the guards, let them shoot him down. But to die like this, in cold blood... it was more than he could stand. "Don't kill me."
Zim closed the small distance between their lips and kissed Dib on the lips. Dib responded instantly, opening his mouth to allow Zim's tongue access to his mouth. He froze however, when he realized that it was a goodbye kiss. He pushed Zim away harshly.
"Are you that eager to die?" Zim snarled. The Irken squeezed the trigger, not tight enough to release the killing beam, and he hesitated. Dib remembered long ago predicting this hesitation, and he smiled to himself, glad his small prediction had come true, and he squeezed his eyes closed, prepared for death. Somehow, Zim's momentary hesitation had given him the peace he needed to die calmly. But then, that small hesitance began to grow longer, almost five minutes. Finally, the cold laser was pulled away from Dib. "I suppose if you're that eager to die, I shouldn't let you."
Dib bit back a smile. That was Zim's way of saying he couldn't kill Dib. "Right. Does that mean you'll let me go?"
"Of course not!" Zim said quickly. "I wouldn't, I can't. You... Well... That would be doing you a favor, and I don't do favors for stupid, meaningless humans."
"Oh." Dib was thoroughly confused. If he wasn't going to be killed, and he wasn't going to be let go, what was going to happen to him? "What are you planning to do, then? Keep me as a pet?"
"A pet." Zim repeated carefully. "Interesting. You have been free for far too long. I think it's time we see how you'd do as my personal slave!"
"A slave!? Dib demanded, outraged. "I can't do that! I won't!"
"You really haven't been keeping up with 'Irken Technology Today', now have you? This planet has been equipped with the obedience technology for four years now." Zim scoffed.
"Obedience technology?" Dib asked suspiciously. He kept his hazel eyes trained on Zim as the alien rummaged through a set of cabinets cloaked from Dib's vision by heavy shadow. Presently, Zim returned, carrying something that seemed to catch and reflect the bits of light in the room perfectly. Zim held it up for Dib to see better, and Dib saw it clearly. A leather collar, studded with rhinestones. It was like something from one of those stores Gaz had fondly referred to as "Wannabe" stores before the invasion.
Before Dib could flash a suitable snappy remark in Zim's face, the alien slipped the collar around Dib's neck, fastening it tightly. Dib immediately reached up to undo the clasp, but it stayed closed. Zim smirked at him, and Dib got the uncomfortable feeling that the collar did something more than look pretty. "What's it do?" Dib asked, careful not to let a shred of fear show in his voice.
"You'll see." Zim said quietly. "You shouldn't ask questions. You belong to me now, and possessions don't ask questions."
"I'm not yours." Dib snapped.
Zim quirked an eyebrow. "You are, by Irken law. I am your new Master, and you're my slave. You have to do everything I say."
"I'm my own person!" Dib countered. "You may think you're the king of the world, but we humans are equipped with a little thing we like to call free will, and I fully intend to use it."
"So ignorant." Zim sighed theatrically to an invisible audience. He turned back to Dib condescendingly. "From now on, you have to follow my orders to the letter, as quickly and as efficient as possible. You don't have a choice. You don't have your pitiful human 'free will' anymore."
Dib rolled his eyes. "You can't just tell me to abandon my free will!"
Zim smirked, a very typical Zim smirk, traced with his familiar lacing of insanity. "Want to bet? Lay down."
"I don't have to." Dib replied flippantly, but even as he said this, a sharp electrical pain shock ran up his spine, growing more intense as he continued to refused to obey. It didn't stop until he collapsed into a heap on the floor.
"Was that so bad?" Zim asked mockingly in a sickeningly sweet tone. "Just do what I say and you won't good hurt."
Typically, Dib would make some sarcastic comment about what a cliché line that was. Now, however, he just mumbled, "Stupid Zim." and glared at the said alien.
"Sit up." Zim said, hardly able to control the note of glee that raised in his voice.
Dib struggled again and another bolt of pain shot through him before he reluctantly sat up. "I hate you." the ebony-haired boy whispered. He didn't mean it. He never did. But this was as close as he had ever come to meaning it.
"Now repeat after me:" Zim ordered, the traces of an insane giggle forcing its way through to the surface. He took a sort of sadistic pleasure at seeing the look on Dib's face. It was a beautiful blend of fear and helplessness, combined with fury and humiliation. Quite the interesting picture, Zim decided, and stored the image in his mind for future viewing pleasure.
"Master Zim is great and powerful -- much better than a lowly human stinkbeast like myself. I live to serve him and my only goal in life is to please him." Dib repeated everything word for word from Zim's mouth before contorting his face into a scowl and adding, "That's not true and it never will be."
"Oh, really?" Zim asked, and again, Dib got the uncomfortable feeling that there was something he didn't know, and worse, this time Dib understood he would be helpless to whatever attack Zim had in mind. He smirked. "I'll have Gir show you to your room -- you remember Gir, don't you? He's my faithful Sir robot, the one you nearly completely brought offline three years ago with your little attack on my base."
"Get on with it." Dib growled. "What are you planning? So what if I have to go to bed? You have something more hateful in mind than just sending me to my room, I know you better than that."
Zim smirked. "You're sharp." he said, shrugging. "Yes, I do have a better suiting punishment for you, stupid human."
"First you call me sharp, then you call me stupid. Make up your mind!" Dib complained.
Zim ignored him. "From the now until I come to collect you tomorrow morning, you will think of nothing but my positive qualities. Understand?" Zim looked quite pleased with his brilliance, though he was somewhat less amused when, after a few minutes, Dib couldn't seem to free himself from the wracking pain. Eventually, Zim got tired of Dib's screaming and floor- writhing, and offered advice. "Oh, really, human! You aren't that dumb, are you? Stop being stubborn! Think of something you like about me!"
"Y-your eyes." Dib stammered after a moment. His body relaxed. "I like your eyes. They're pretty." Dib was silent a moment, thinking. "You're a good kisser, too." he added.
Pleased with this turn of events, Zim called Gir in to take Dib to his room. Immediately, the "advanced" Sir ran in and hugged Dib. "Ooh! Hiya! I know you! You're the guy! The guy... With the hair! Yeah!"
"Yeah." Dib agreed distantly. "You're Gir. I remember you. Cute and funny. I liked you. You're Zim's."
"Yup!" Gir agreed. "Hey, have you ever seen an aardvark?"
"I... I don't know." Dib said, confused, blinking as he snapped back to reality, wincing in pain as he did so, though he quickly rendered that with a glance at Zim's eyes. "What do they look like, cool robot of pretty- eyed Zim." Dib immediately felt silly after saying that, but it was necessary to keep focused on Zim. Luckily, Gir forgot all about the aardvarks and got onto a tangent about "Master's prettiful eyes".
This was a conversation Dib could participate fully in, so he did, maybe a little more enthusiastic then was absolutely necessary. "He does have pretty eyes!" Dib agreed. "Have you ever seen such a pretty crimson like that? I haven't, and I've looked. It compliments his skin tone nicely, too, but I still like his eyes better. I've always favored red over green, so I'm biased."
Zim watched, not sure whether he should be shocked or amused, so he settled for puzzled. Dib certainly was an enigma...
To Be Continued….
Author's Note: Strange Path Leads Me didn't seem quite finished in my eyes (either that, or I was having too much fun with it to quit), so I decided to write this. It's the sequel, but it should take a couple chapters to finish it up. I've got it all written up in a notebook, but I'm still typing the whole thing up. As of right now, I'm finished up to Chapter Three, but I'm going to post the chapters at intervals.
Disclaimer: I don't own Dib (and seeing as how I'm one of his countless fangirls, that's probably a good thing), Zim, Gaz, or anyone else. Okay? Okay. Sue me, and you'll receive a giant IOU and a rubber tree.
Of A Rhinestone Slavery in a Glass Palace
Dib tossed restlessly in his tiny bed. It wasn't even a bed, really. It was a dresser drawer that he had to pull his knees up to his chest to fit into. It was almost coffin-like. He had it shoved against a crumbling brick wall and painted black to blend with the shadows. He'd found a long black board to pull over it as he slept so that no rats would crawl in to nest in his hair during the day, as well as to block out that annoying bulb of light he used to call the sun, but now called "the stupid dangerous bright thing that prevents me from making supply runs and attacking Zim during the day".
But I digress. Dib was tossing restlessly in his tiny bed - though how he managed to toss as restlessly as he did is beyond me. I suppose that after six years of practice of sleeping in a drawer, one adapts. Usually Dib slept soundly, but today, his thoughts were plagued by rusted, unhappy memories.
* * *
"Ha! You're afraid of me, aren't you? You don't want to face wrath of my water balloons!" Dib accused.
"Who won our water war, little Dibby creature? I did! I, the great Zim, beat-ed you with your own watery technology. And I'd win aga-- What!?" Zim cut off his taunting, and stared at Zita as she passed by.
"What's wrong? Finally succumbing to our race's feminine wiles?" Dib mocked.
"What is she wearing!?" Zim demanded, not bothering to point out that Dib had practically just called himself a girl.
"You've been on Earth two years and you still can't recognize a pair of jeans and a t-shirt?" Dib asked, sounding partly confused, but mostly wary. This had to be a joke. Or a trick. Most likely the latter.
"Her… Feet!"
"Oh. Those platform shoes? They may be out of style, but she's popular. She's allowed to revive old trends. Hasn't Jessica given you that lecture yet?"
* * *
As soon as Dib had uttered the words "platform shoes", the fate of the human race was sealed. Ironic how the sole hope for Earth ended up dooming it. If Dib had distracted Zim with more teasing, Zim would have forgotten about the shoes, Zita would have given up on reviving the trend, the Irken forces would have continued to deem Zim's invading too big of a failure to waste the armada on, and Earth would have remained Earth instead of Platformia.
Zim acted smug during the two weeks between his discovery of the shoes and the arrival of the armada. He didn't come to school or leave the house, causing a fatal flaw in his plan: It gave Dib a heightened paranoia and caused him to start listening to his transmitter again. That gave Dib just enough time to yank Gaz out of the house and drag her to the nearest bomb shelter. It did not, however, give him enough time to drag Professor Membrane away from his work. He would have needed a couple millennia's notice in order to manage that.
The armada turned the cities to ashes, leaving nothing behind except for shoe factories and a limited number of workers. Zim himself destroyed Dib's neighborhood -- as the conqueror of Earth, the Tallest were forced to let him participate in the Organic Sweep, but they were not, however, obliged to let him destroy more than a relatively small neighborhood.
There, as he rampaged through the neighborhood, blasting Professor Membrane's laboratory and the scientists inside, Zim yelled the words that tainted Dib's soul forever. "And I would like to thank my Mommy and Daddy for birthing me, and Nana Robot for caring for me as her own progeny and -" Hold on. My mistake. Fast-forward a little. "And thank you to the stinkbeast Dib, who has the biggest head on the planet! Without you, I would have never discovered platform shoes!"
Though less than a paragraph of dialogue, it was really quite a bit to have staining one's soul, especially when paired up with the images of Zim blowing up Dib's father's workstation. Dib had cried every night for weeks, and sometimes still did - tonight being one of those nights. Dib understood that this wasn't a stain that could be taken out with Chlorox Bleach or Tide - though he'd stuck himself in a washing machine on numerous occasions just to make sure.
You're probably asking yourself what could be worse, aren't you? Probably saying "Oh, poor Dib! Go get your revenge on that mean alien invader!" Well I'm sure that Dib would take your advice except for one slight difficulty: Somewhere along the way, he had fallen in love with Zim. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hate Zim; he was just too far gone. He tried to tell himself he did, but, unfortunately, Dib never was very good at lying, and lying to oneself is even more difficult than lying to anyone else, so his attempts as convincing his heart that it was wrong were complete failures. Zim kissing him two years ago most definitely had not helped matters at all… But that's another story entirely.
Since I got off on such a long tangent about Dib's thoughts and memories, I feel the need to set the scene again. We find our hero curled in a fetal position in his little black drawer-bed shadowing him from the sunset. Not quite the most heroic position, but it served its purpose. Dib eventually sensed that the sun had fully set and crept from his bed.
The irony of the situation struck him horribly as it did every morning for the six years he'd lived in the dank alleyway. He, the paranormal genius, crawling through the night and sleeping in a coffin like some common vampire! Grumbling at the injustice, Dib stumbled towards a shattered piece of mirror and ran a hand through his hair. Pointless, because his hair did what it wanted when it wanted. Dib splashed a bit of water on his face from a canteen of clean water hanging at his side - no one would trust any of the puddles on the ground. Dib was fairly certain the rain had been altered to avoid harming the Irkens. It had the texture and taste of paste, making it useless for washing your face.
Without doing anything else - what else could he do? Change clothes? Not likely. Eat? Eat what? Gaz would kill him for touching her cereal and then he'd never get today's mission accomplished! - Dib called over his shoulder, "See you later, I don't know when I'll be back, so don't wait up."
"Like I would." Gaz retorted indifferently, and the furious clicking of Gameslave buttons could be heard from behind the burgundy sheet that hid her room from the rest of the world.
"I love you, despite the fact that you don't even care that your only brother is going out to face uncertain (but fairly likely) Doom of an unknown (but decidedly painful) variety." Dib added as he left.
"Shut up."
And so it was that Dib's day started fairly well.
* * *
Three hours later, Dib's day was anything but fairly well. Infiltrating Zim's headquarters, a big building that took up the entire town's former grounds, was never easy, and it had been just his luck to be scorched by one of the lawn gnome defense units near the entrance, immobilizing his left arm. He should have turned back then. But did he? Of course not. He clutched his arm to his chest and continued on.
Dib's next mistake was tripping. Not only did he trip, but he fell against the walls, and as you well know, being walls in a highly advanced race's headquarters, these walls were filled with sensors that alerted the entire base of his location.
No problem, right? Dib was a fast runner, and by now he knew his way around fairly well. He was confident as he raced away. So confident, in fact, that he threw away common sense and took the shortest route out. It was inevitably swarming with guards, effectively cutting off his escape.
Being a left-handed person, Dib couldn't easily fire his handheld laser. Not only did he have horrible aim with his right hand, but by the time he reached his right arm across his body to get to the laser strapped on his belt, the guards would have turned him into Dib powder, or if their laser settings were high enough, nothing but a few random molecules floating in the air.
So, instead of fighting, he stared at the guards for a moment, bewildered. This was a new situation. He'd never ended up at point blank before. Shot at, yes. He'd ran from masses of guards, all shooting the same lasers these guards held now. But that was the difference: He'd ran. This was the first time he had ever been faced with such a situation. He had no chance for escape. There were only two paths he could take: Death or Capture.
Dib weighed both choices carefully. On one hand, hadn't he always stood for "Give me liberty, or give me death!"? Hadn't he vowed never to give in, to always resist? His death, while admittedly not the most incredibly fun thing he would experience, would be the thing any proud believer in freedom would do, right?
Yet, shouldn't he, as the sole hope for Earth's freedom, try to keep that flame of hope alive? He should avoid death, not for the selfish reason that he didn't want to die, but because the resistance had to live on! The remaining population of Earth depended on him! He had to stay alive!
Let's flashforward a bit to see what would have happened had Dib chosen to never surrender. He would have leapt for his laser, and the surprised guards would have been late shooting their lasers, only a few of them shooting as he dodged aside. He would have had an opportunity to run, ducking into several side-chambers to avoid being blasted. The chase would have led them all into the slave-dungeons and there, alas, Dib would be shot down, in front of the eyes of all the hopeless slaves, who had never before even dreamed of resisting. Seeing his death and honoring him as a martyr, one boy would rise above the others to lead a massive slave rebellion and eventually overthrow the Irken empire. This lucky boy would proceed to be leader of a new Earth order, one of complete peace, one that communicated peacefully with the other races of the universe, setting up brilliant trading systems and establishing an intergalactic currency that ended up bridging all peoples into universe-wide peace. For the first time, Dib would have the recognition as a hero, brilliant when others were oblivious and defiant where others were compliant. Now can you guess who this remarkable leader is? No? Well, I don't blame you, but don't worry! We'll be seeing more of him later, not as a world leader but as... You'll just have to wait and see, won't you? Now, moving right along...
Dib stared at the guards, and finally spoke, causing them all to tense, expecting the mocking insults Dib had taken to yelling before bursting forth with some new super-weapon. Our poor hero didn't have any tricks up his sleeve this time, and instead, all he said was, "Oh. I guess I have to surrender then, don't I?" Dib lifted his hands into the air and allowed the puzzled Irkens to strip him of his weapons and hurried him forward in a new direction.
I wonder if Gaz will miss me, Dib mused. I bet she will once she runs out of batteries for her Gameslave. That might take a while, though. I stocked up pretty well...
He was brought to a room that was basked in blue-black shadow. Atop a tall throne, sat Zim, looking decidedly bored. His crimson eyes widened upon seeing his nemesis, and he climbed down from his throne. The guards shoved Dib down into a kneeling position and roughly bound his hands behind his back. When they had finished, Zim sent them away with a regal, sweeping gesture.
Zim stepped directly in front of Dib. Even with his platform shoes, he only barely managed to meet the kneeling human's eyes. "I told you what would happen if I caught you again." he said, fingering his silver inlaid laser gun, as if Dib didn't remember his threat.
"Two years is a long time not to get caught." Dib argued. "I think I did pretty well."
"Not well enough, though." Zim disagreed, placing the laser beam to Dib's neck. The metal was cold, but that wasn't why Dib shivered.
"Don't kill me. You don't really want to!" Dib pleaded, though it revolted him to have to beg like that.
"Oh? And how do you know what I want?" Zim asked dangerously, leaning closer to Dib.
"I don't want to die like this." Dib said, not answering Zim. There was a distinct whimper in his voice. He really didn't want to die like this! Bound, helpless, unable to fight it... He should have run from the guards, let them shoot him down. But to die like this, in cold blood... it was more than he could stand. "Don't kill me."
Zim closed the small distance between their lips and kissed Dib on the lips. Dib responded instantly, opening his mouth to allow Zim's tongue access to his mouth. He froze however, when he realized that it was a goodbye kiss. He pushed Zim away harshly.
"Are you that eager to die?" Zim snarled. The Irken squeezed the trigger, not tight enough to release the killing beam, and he hesitated. Dib remembered long ago predicting this hesitation, and he smiled to himself, glad his small prediction had come true, and he squeezed his eyes closed, prepared for death. Somehow, Zim's momentary hesitation had given him the peace he needed to die calmly. But then, that small hesitance began to grow longer, almost five minutes. Finally, the cold laser was pulled away from Dib. "I suppose if you're that eager to die, I shouldn't let you."
Dib bit back a smile. That was Zim's way of saying he couldn't kill Dib. "Right. Does that mean you'll let me go?"
"Of course not!" Zim said quickly. "I wouldn't, I can't. You... Well... That would be doing you a favor, and I don't do favors for stupid, meaningless humans."
"Oh." Dib was thoroughly confused. If he wasn't going to be killed, and he wasn't going to be let go, what was going to happen to him? "What are you planning to do, then? Keep me as a pet?"
"A pet." Zim repeated carefully. "Interesting. You have been free for far too long. I think it's time we see how you'd do as my personal slave!"
"A slave!? Dib demanded, outraged. "I can't do that! I won't!"
"You really haven't been keeping up with 'Irken Technology Today', now have you? This planet has been equipped with the obedience technology for four years now." Zim scoffed.
"Obedience technology?" Dib asked suspiciously. He kept his hazel eyes trained on Zim as the alien rummaged through a set of cabinets cloaked from Dib's vision by heavy shadow. Presently, Zim returned, carrying something that seemed to catch and reflect the bits of light in the room perfectly. Zim held it up for Dib to see better, and Dib saw it clearly. A leather collar, studded with rhinestones. It was like something from one of those stores Gaz had fondly referred to as "Wannabe" stores before the invasion.
Before Dib could flash a suitable snappy remark in Zim's face, the alien slipped the collar around Dib's neck, fastening it tightly. Dib immediately reached up to undo the clasp, but it stayed closed. Zim smirked at him, and Dib got the uncomfortable feeling that the collar did something more than look pretty. "What's it do?" Dib asked, careful not to let a shred of fear show in his voice.
"You'll see." Zim said quietly. "You shouldn't ask questions. You belong to me now, and possessions don't ask questions."
"I'm not yours." Dib snapped.
Zim quirked an eyebrow. "You are, by Irken law. I am your new Master, and you're my slave. You have to do everything I say."
"I'm my own person!" Dib countered. "You may think you're the king of the world, but we humans are equipped with a little thing we like to call free will, and I fully intend to use it."
"So ignorant." Zim sighed theatrically to an invisible audience. He turned back to Dib condescendingly. "From now on, you have to follow my orders to the letter, as quickly and as efficient as possible. You don't have a choice. You don't have your pitiful human 'free will' anymore."
Dib rolled his eyes. "You can't just tell me to abandon my free will!"
Zim smirked, a very typical Zim smirk, traced with his familiar lacing of insanity. "Want to bet? Lay down."
"I don't have to." Dib replied flippantly, but even as he said this, a sharp electrical pain shock ran up his spine, growing more intense as he continued to refused to obey. It didn't stop until he collapsed into a heap on the floor.
"Was that so bad?" Zim asked mockingly in a sickeningly sweet tone. "Just do what I say and you won't good hurt."
Typically, Dib would make some sarcastic comment about what a cliché line that was. Now, however, he just mumbled, "Stupid Zim." and glared at the said alien.
"Sit up." Zim said, hardly able to control the note of glee that raised in his voice.
Dib struggled again and another bolt of pain shot through him before he reluctantly sat up. "I hate you." the ebony-haired boy whispered. He didn't mean it. He never did. But this was as close as he had ever come to meaning it.
"Now repeat after me:" Zim ordered, the traces of an insane giggle forcing its way through to the surface. He took a sort of sadistic pleasure at seeing the look on Dib's face. It was a beautiful blend of fear and helplessness, combined with fury and humiliation. Quite the interesting picture, Zim decided, and stored the image in his mind for future viewing pleasure.
"Master Zim is great and powerful -- much better than a lowly human stinkbeast like myself. I live to serve him and my only goal in life is to please him." Dib repeated everything word for word from Zim's mouth before contorting his face into a scowl and adding, "That's not true and it never will be."
"Oh, really?" Zim asked, and again, Dib got the uncomfortable feeling that there was something he didn't know, and worse, this time Dib understood he would be helpless to whatever attack Zim had in mind. He smirked. "I'll have Gir show you to your room -- you remember Gir, don't you? He's my faithful Sir robot, the one you nearly completely brought offline three years ago with your little attack on my base."
"Get on with it." Dib growled. "What are you planning? So what if I have to go to bed? You have something more hateful in mind than just sending me to my room, I know you better than that."
Zim smirked. "You're sharp." he said, shrugging. "Yes, I do have a better suiting punishment for you, stupid human."
"First you call me sharp, then you call me stupid. Make up your mind!" Dib complained.
Zim ignored him. "From the now until I come to collect you tomorrow morning, you will think of nothing but my positive qualities. Understand?" Zim looked quite pleased with his brilliance, though he was somewhat less amused when, after a few minutes, Dib couldn't seem to free himself from the wracking pain. Eventually, Zim got tired of Dib's screaming and floor- writhing, and offered advice. "Oh, really, human! You aren't that dumb, are you? Stop being stubborn! Think of something you like about me!"
"Y-your eyes." Dib stammered after a moment. His body relaxed. "I like your eyes. They're pretty." Dib was silent a moment, thinking. "You're a good kisser, too." he added.
Pleased with this turn of events, Zim called Gir in to take Dib to his room. Immediately, the "advanced" Sir ran in and hugged Dib. "Ooh! Hiya! I know you! You're the guy! The guy... With the hair! Yeah!"
"Yeah." Dib agreed distantly. "You're Gir. I remember you. Cute and funny. I liked you. You're Zim's."
"Yup!" Gir agreed. "Hey, have you ever seen an aardvark?"
"I... I don't know." Dib said, confused, blinking as he snapped back to reality, wincing in pain as he did so, though he quickly rendered that with a glance at Zim's eyes. "What do they look like, cool robot of pretty- eyed Zim." Dib immediately felt silly after saying that, but it was necessary to keep focused on Zim. Luckily, Gir forgot all about the aardvarks and got onto a tangent about "Master's prettiful eyes".
This was a conversation Dib could participate fully in, so he did, maybe a little more enthusiastic then was absolutely necessary. "He does have pretty eyes!" Dib agreed. "Have you ever seen such a pretty crimson like that? I haven't, and I've looked. It compliments his skin tone nicely, too, but I still like his eyes better. I've always favored red over green, so I'm biased."
Zim watched, not sure whether he should be shocked or amused, so he settled for puzzled. Dib certainly was an enigma...
To Be Continued….
