Psychosomatic
a ZADR fic
by Kloudy Reignfall
AN: This was my submission for a fanfic contest in the DeviantArt club, ZADR (Zim and Dib romance). I think it got 3rd place? Anyway, hope you like it!
START!
"Ugh..."
Zim looked up from his plate to see Dib hobbling toward him from across the lunchroom. The big-headed boy was groaning in a peculiar manner and holding his stomach as if afraid it was going to fall out.
"What is the matter, Dib-creature?" the green boy asked, something like concern lacing his curiosity.
Dib took a seat beside the alien and let go of his stomach with some reluctance. He turned to Zim, blinking droopy eyes at the boy, and responded slowly, "I've been feeling terrible all day... I think I've got the flu, or appendicitis or something." He groaned again and turned back to lay his head down on the table, caring far less about its perpetually filthy state than he otherwise might.
Zim blinked at Dib's sickly form and grinned. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, then shut it abruptly. Several times he did this, until he finally decided upon a course of action. He smiled, eyes closed, and said matter-of-factly, "Ah, yes. I expected as much!"
Not in the mood to deal with Zim's antics, but desperate for any information leading to the cure of his intense discomfort, Dib wearily turned his head just enough to see Zim from the corner of his right eye. He raised an eyebrow and asked with outstanding clarity, "...Huhh??"
Zim's grin widened. "Yes, yes. These are quite common symptoms. Do not worry, Dib-stink! Why, in a matter of weeks, this should all be over!"
Dib blinked slowly, too tired to even roll his eyes at Zim's lack of sense-making abilities. "What are you talking about Zim?"
"The Irken smeet-babies which now reside in your stomach," he clarified, nodding. "Yes, they should be ripe in approximately... 7 earth weeks." He double-checked his calculations on his fingers, then nodded once more.
All traces of exhaustion were now absent from Dib, replaced by massive quantities of adrenaline. "WHAT?! Babies?! Inside... my stomach?!" He began to shake and breathe very quickly, his wide eyes begging Zim for an explanation or, better yet, a denial of this situation.
Zim contrived to look rather offended by Dib's lack of enthusiasm, and started to explain things in a way that might make other boy understand and appreciate what was going on.
"Yes, Dib-beast, smeets. In your stomach. Given the rather large size of your head, can I assume that you understand the importance of reproduction?" He waited for a moment, allowing for Dib to answer, but decided to take his stunned silence as leave to continue. "So, after much careful consideration, I came to the conclusion that you were the best disgusting human specimen to carry out the job of housing my growing smeets!" He grinned widely, showing confidence in his decision.
Dib, obviously, did not take Zim's speech as an adequate answer. "But... but, how? Why? When?!"
"Quite simple, really," Zim responded. "All I had to do was drop the necessary cellular material into your drink while you weren't looking. The process began about a week ago, and smeets thrive in the sort of acid found in the human stomach, so they should be about this big by now." He positioned his fingers to indicate the size of a dime.
It took a moment for the impact of Zim's words to fully sink in, but when they did they commanded a rather drastic reaction in Dib. He quivered violently and slapped a hand over his mouth, muttering, "I think I'm going to be sick..." before running off.
Zim smiled, pleased, and began to devour his sauerkraut with reckless abandon.
OoOoOoO
The weeks following that monumental day were some of the most entertaining that Zim could remember. Despite his 'illness', Dib had forced himself to come to school every day, claiming that a little thing like 'alien stomach babies' wouldn't stop him from leading a normal life. The other children, however, were quick to disagree, complaining that Dib was acting even crazier than usual. It seemed a great inconvenience to them, as it caused them to waste their crazy-cards at an alarming pace.
Zim, of course, was quite fond of how things were going. As demonstrated in the myriad of heart-shaped notes he sent across the room to Dib, he couldn't be happier at the prospect of being a father.
"My dearest Dibby-Dib," one such note began, "You can't imagine my joy at this current moment! I am filled with immeasurable pride at the thought of you and I as parents! But, as enormous as my glee is, I could be happier still! Please meet me after school. I have a request to make of you!
'Til then, my lovely pig-smelly!
Yours amazingly, Zim"Dib blushed as he quickly hid the note beneath his desk and anxiously awaited the end of the school day.
OoOoOoO
Eventually, the bell rang, and the classroom quickly emptied. Dib walked, somewhat apprehensively, over to Zim's desk. Without a word, the green boy took his hand and dragged him out into the hall.
"Uh..." Dib stammered, looking frantically from side to side, hoping nobody was around to see them. But though his hand was beginning to sweat, he didn't remove it from Zim's. He simply walked with the other boy, hoping he'd hurry up and say whatever it was he had to say.
They stopped at the top of the stone steps in front of the Skool building, and Zim turned to look Dib in the eyes. He stared at him a few moments. Dib shifted his weight nervously.
Finally, Zim spoke up. "Dib," he began, leaving off the familiar insulting honorific, perhaps for emphasis, "I think we should get married."
At this, Dib broke away and jumped several feet backward, a horrified look on his face. "WHAT?! M-married?? B-but, but we're just fourteen!!! A-and, and..."
"Speak for yourself!" Zim responded, head held high with pride. "Irkens have a much longer lifespan than you mere humans. I am three-hundred and sixty two, a perfectly marriageable age! Besides, isn't it considered improper here on Earth to have children while not wed? When my smeets crawl up out of your esophagus, they're going to want to know who their father is!"
Dib stopped spazzing to look up at Zim, his face twitching, and fall to the floor in a faint.
It was at that point that Gaz appeared. "My brother's not really going to have alien babies, is he?"
Zim shook his head, still grinning. "No."
Gaz smiled. "You're cruel."
"I know," Zim replied, looking down at Dib's unconscious form. "But he's cute when he freaks out."
END!