Pyrexia
Chapter One: whisper world
Fragments of consciousness slowly befell him as he lay there on the bed; the shadows lapping quietly like calm waves over the gap between the land and the sea. And he lay there in the limbo that made them separate. He had made this place his home for so long he began to wonder if he was becoming more shadow than human. The revelation had come quietly and almost unnoticed burrowing deep in the back of his brain; the notion of his lifestyle being malignant had not even scratched the surface of consideration.
He gently rubbed under his eyes where the shade seemed to collect the most.
He seemed to be filtered through the perception of the multitude and his announced presence was regarded as almost nonexistent. He felt lighter and the space around him seemed fluffy and always warm, perhaps to dull his senses- keep him sedated or cushion him from his own emptiness. He wasn't sure; and scraping up the incentive to care was an endeavor he found less and less attractive.
Reality was becoming more and more malleable and unreliable by the weeks, if he could even tell anymore. Any attempt of holding onto any kind of tangible result was near void. At times he would wake to find the shadows shifting around him, beating with a pulse. Space fizzled and cracked letting a soft glow fall through. The world was bending and breaking and pulling him away from the cold dead hands of the earth. The only truth that he was sure of, that he knew was not based in some sort of fallacy, his only physical reminder, his only hope was-
"I know you're there."
A frustrated noise and rustling of leaves from outside the window but no reveal. He had developed an acute awareness of the other's presence over the... year(s)? It seemed to be the only thing he was ever aware of.
He imagined he lived in a spherical alternate dimension that had enveloped him and melded with his being, following him everywhere he roamed within the world he once knew; independent of time and external observation. He only knew of one to ever slip through the rift he had created.
"Okay whatever you can just stay out there then."
Or maybe he was stuck inside with him.
He didn't lift his head to watch the other climb through the window and dust himself off. He growled a string of annoyances then quieted down and just stared at the boy on the bed. It was a long while before he spoke.
"I'm here to stop you." Hesitant, flat, unconfident.
It was an imposition that was frequently shared between them. Its redundancy, in fact, had stripped it of any effect leaving it to linger and fizzle out like a lighted match in the wind. The taste of it however was different. Dib knew what he had meant by it.
"It's quiet here."
"…It's YOUR fault."
"It fits."
"It's never felt more wrong!"
"I think I'm going to die."
"You fucking stink-beast." Spit.
The idle words swirled around them like kicked-up dust then settled to the ground with a screaming silence neither could ignore. He still hadn't looked at him. He could see his shadow across the ceiling, antennae slightly twitching. He wanted to pull him in, make him only two red orbs shining through the black.
Somewhere inside himself he found an argument. "I just know I'm supposed to go there… this is what I've always felt- the pulling it's- god, everything you can't see with your eyes, everything that's important."
"Whatever." He could hear his scowl and blatant disapproval. His vulnerable disposition shifted to crossed arms, a rigid back, and the impatient tapping of a foot. "You've always been crazy anyway." Snort.
He wanted him to care, he wanted him to believe this was more than the disintegration of a deranged mind. The desperation was thick in his throat and half of him wished Zim would just leave and stop pushing him up to reality's mirror. Suddenly his face felt hot and his ears felt clogged. There was a quiet ringing and Zim's voice felt very far away. His eyes widened when he saw the space in front of him ripple like something dropped in a pool of calm water. He instinctively reached out to touch it when a heavy ache of fatigue swept over him like a suffocating warm breeze. Blackness blurred his peripheral vision and Zim's silent moving lips and panicked eyes were soon forgotten as Dib lay back and closed his eyes; allowing himself to be swallowed by the pressing definition of the undefined.
For a small moment he had never been happier.
A/N: my grammar is endlessly erroneous so I apologize. I haven't written in a while but I had recently been inspired. Im not too sure what the IZ fandom has been up to lately but hopefully this story will find its own niche if it is even noticed. This will be continued as will my other stories however they are currently on hiatus. I'd really appreciate reviews of any kind. Oh and of course ZADR in the eye of the beholder. I like to tell it like it is and not bother with their nonexistent romance. That doesn't by any means discredit the pernicious codependent relationship they have with each other. Its love in its most impure malignant form. And they never will admit it.