Disclaimer: Invader Zim owns me, that's a one-way street baby.
Pairing: ZaDr
Warnings: Mentions of spastic surgery, odd P.O.V used, alien!malexhuman!male(xrobot!male?) lovin' and Zim. Because as always, he needs a warning label.
Summary: Chains that hold us together and bind us - Chains held by the one that tore us apart (and put us back together).
CHAINS
It's either insanity, loyalty or love - these chains.
They hold us.
Bind us.
Squeeze us tight-tightly-tighter-
They tether us, bind us to their creator.
Zim holds us captive.
The chains belong to him, just like we do.
All our lives are now - dedicated soulfully to Zim.
Blood for Zim.
Pain for Zim.
Love for Zim.
And servitude. Unquestioning, unwavering and absolute servitude for Zim.
"Are you mine," he sometimes sneers, sometimes smirks and always demands.
"We are yours, Master," I sometimes whisper, you sometimes scream and we always beg in that pleading tone.
We're tense, paranoid and jittery. We only notice, though, in the rare moments of sanity - and they are few and far between.
Bouts of rage torment us. Maybe from our 'birth' or maybe from our before-lives. It doesn't really matter.
Zim is in control of it, of us.
He binds us with chains.
Ropes us with promises.
Holds us without mercy.
All the pink little pieces of us.
All the metallic little slithers of us.
All the torn-apart and recollected parts of two unworthy slaves pieced together to make us useful to Zim.
We beg with dirty kisses, plead with dark promises and we follow-
Held tightly, closely, by the binds that fuse us together and hold us to our Master.
Your Master, my Master.
Our Master leads us through hell - he's shown us worse fates.
We learnt the way to please him, to praise him and to follow.
Unhesitatingly, without thought, just follow.
Because we (hate, need, crave, kiss, bleed for, bleed with, kill for, live for) love Zim.
And Zim...
Zim...
Every slap and poke and bite and sneer.
All the days he spent pulling us apart.
The months he spent putting us together.
The moment's he forgets we are 'us' and calls us old names.
The murmurs and mutters he doesn't care enough to censor.
Everything he does and doesn't and wouldn't and is.
Zim, in his own, imposable way.
Zim loves us too.
xxx
A/N: So... it's a little morbid, a tad insane and weirder then weird. Just how I like my Zim. 'Cause, yanno, if Zim ever got the chance he'd totally rip Gir and Dib apart and stick 'em together. It makes sence... to me... and Zim's crazier then I am (sometimes) so, yea...=D Feedback appreciated! Jaffa xxx