Series: Invader Zim
Pairing(s): ZADR (aka Zim/Dib)
Summary: They were rivals. That was the way they had always wanted it, that was the way it had always been. But the more things stay the same, the more they change.
Disclaimer: Invader Zim and all related characters, etc. are the property of Nickelodeon.
Other Notes: Ever since I first watched Invader Zim, I could see Dib and Zim getting together. It was something that felt almost inevitable to me, but I was faced with this big, glaring problem: How? I honestly couldn't figure out exactly how to get them together in a good, believable way. There's been a lot of fanfiction regarding that, I guess, but I never could quite believe most of what that fanfiction proposed, so I'm posting my own little "beginnings of Zim and Dib's relationship" fic. As such, it's not fluffy or overly romantic or anything of the sort. For the most part, the ZADR is extremely mild and fairly subtle to begin with.
As always, if you like this fic, please review. ;) It gives me a reason to keep on writing.
I'll cease boring you now. On with the fic.
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Even if the Tallest themselves had pumped him full of truth serum and had him explain, it wasn't something he could make them, or any other Irken, understand. Perhaps it was because he was defective, so far below all the other Irkens and therefore flawed in his every thought. Or perhaps it was a sign of his superiority to all others, a nod to some attribute of his so amazing that even he himself would never quite understand what it was. Or perhaps it was something else entirely, but Zim didn't like to question things like "why," especially regarding this. He hardly even liked to admit it to himself, but during those rare moments when he caught himself considering it, he could feel his eyes held open to the profound significance of that one crucial fact: He couldn't pinpoint when it began, but after a certain point, the mission stopped mattering.
He had worked unwaveringly day and night for the past eight years to come up with one final plan that would destroy the inhabitants of this Earth that he despised so much, to see them scatter like autumn leaves at his feet and run around, panicked, like he had heard inferior creatures often do when the Organic Sweep of their planet begins. He wanted to see them realize just how foolish and wrong they had been about him as they laughed at and mocked and ignored him as though he, the great and almighty Zim, was as unimportant as a filthy little ant. He wanted them to see him as a threat—no, as the biggest threat ever to touch down upon their, or any other planet. He was, after all, Zim. How many times had he promised them that he would rule their revolting little rock? More than he could count, in any case, and he never for a second even came close to considering that he would not fulfill that promise.
He wanted to see the expressions on the faces of his Almighty Tallest when he contacted them and let them see that he had conquered all of Earth without any help from the Armada or from any other invader, though he had no idea how he was going to contact them with the Massive programmed to block his messages. He supposed he could hack his way through, contact Prisoner 777 and ask for another way to get his transmissions through to his Tallest. It wasn't as though he hadn't already tried all that, but if he could complete his mission, there would be no way the Tallest could continue to reject him! He dreamed of that day, the day when they would bring him back out of exile and re-encode him once more, as the greatest invader alive! The invader who had proven himself, by adding another planet to the Irken Empire all with his own two superior hands and what had become minimal supplies. He wanted that victory, that one spectacular victory beneath which to sweep all smaller victories and failures, as proof that he, Invader Zim, was as great—no, even greater than he had ever said himself.
But all of that, all of those treasures that he knew would lie in wait for him at that one, final victory, had begun to scare him, not that he would ever admit it. Because, over time, he couldn't have helped but to watch Dib grow and age and he had watched as he had become taller (taller than even the Tallest, it seemed) and his reflexes more developed. And Zim had watched as his neighbors around him had become increasingly slower, dimmer, and grayer with age. He had watched as his classmates had grown and changed and gone their separate and equally revolting ways, aging like Dib and becoming complete human adults. They were still humans, their intellects had hardly changed, but nobody could say that they were the same kids as they had been in Ms. Bitters's class. In the span of only eight of Earth's years, nearly everything had changed. Ms. Bitters had retired, Dib and Zim had gone on to Hi Skool and graduated in a blink of Zim's Irken eye. He had gotten a few new neighbors, and lost a few as well by various means, some of which he preferred to leave unmentioned. He had developed a growth serum in order to keep up with Dib in height, though he could never get himself as tall as Dib without risking catastrophic results. But catastrophic results could hardly be avoided after the first time he with his new height had reported to the Tallest. They were shocked, profoundly shocked, and angrier than Zim could have expected.
Angers flew and sparked as the Tallest demanded that he return back to his proper size, fearing that he would become some kind of menace to their power. And Zim didn't understand, couldn't understand, and so he yelled out in his confusion. He was, after all, the greatest of all the invaders! So what if Operation Impending Doom had gone to a bad end because of him? Had he not displayed more potential as a soldier than any other invader? Had he not taken on the whole of Irken civilization and come so very close to winning? Who if not Zim, the amazing and all-powerful Zim, deserved this great height? He did, after all, blow up more than any other invader! His feats were more impressive than those of any other Irken, and the Tallest had to see that!
But they, of course, didn't. That had been they day when they had finally deleted his existence from the Irken Control Brain and warned him of the charges that faced him should he ever return to Irken territory. Zim was, needless to say, shocked. He tried and he tried to get his messages through, to get the Tallest to tell him that it was all just one big joke, but after a week of trying harder and harder to communicate with the Massive, he realized it was futile. But that didn't mean a thing, all it meant was that the Tallest were testing him! He couldn't just give up! So he didn't; he simply contacted whatever useful connections he had to prisoners or guards or whoever he could think of, had them send messages for him. And when those messengers were arrested for contacting the Tallest on Zim's behalf, he even tried to fly the Voot Cruiser to the Massive himself!
Accidentally breaking a hole in one of the snack pods was hardly a good start to that negotiation. Being arrested by the Tallests' personal guards was even worse; and escaping arrest! Between breaking all those Irken laws, he hardly had a spare moment in which to beg his Almighty Tallests' forgiveness.
So he had to come to accept that the Tallest were not simply testing him. He was forced to accept that his leaders no longer wanted him in their Empire. But after the initial shock, the initial mind-blowing, year-long shock, Zim found that all these changes—the Tallest not accepting him, the entire population of Earth aging around him, Skool falling out of his daily routine—meant very little to him, despite their obvious significance and how quickly they seemed to have flown into him and then past him, because one thing never changed.
Zim still worked day and night to defeat Dib, and Dib still worked day and night to defeat Zim. Zim wanted to take control of the Earth, yes, and of course he wanted to please the Tallest and get them to accept him back as the great Irken invader he was, but he needed to continue to fight and quarrel and try to defeat Dib. He needed that victory above all others, despite the lack of promised glories that would come with it. He needed the rivalry, the challenge greater than all challenges he had ever come face-to-face with. And though he would never let himself admit it, Zim could not stop this twisted tug-of-war even if he really, truly wanted to, not until he won.
And Zim couldn't pinpoint quite when it occurred, but even that stopped being the case. Because he knew, despite not wanting to think about it, that after that final victory, that would be it. There would be no more fighting, because there would be no more need to win. And Dib wouldn't need to be a part of his life anymore, because Dib would have lost and have been killed or enslaved or worse by either Zim himself or by the Armada that was sure to come. And despite the obvious glory that would come at the completion of his mission, at being accepted back into Irken society, at proving his worth, the bleak and peaceful emptiness that lay beyond the end of his endless war with Dib instilled something in the Irken that he could recognize as being something quite like fear.
He supposed that he realized it the first time he had really caught Dib. It wasn't as though it was really the first time in their long rivalry, but this time was different. Dib's father would be away in Germany disproving the Law of Conservation of Matter all week that week, and Dib's sister had no reason to care for her brother's well-being. Yes, this time, everything had been perfect. They had been no way—absolutely no way that Dib could have possibly escpaed. Zim remembered almost too well the infinitely exhilarating feel of that amazing victory. Standing far above the Dib on metallic legs protruding from his PAK, grinning victoriously at the human his defense system had pinned helplessly to the wall of Zim's lab, staring into defiant, golden-amber eyes that hid a panicking realization that Zim may have truly, finally won their eternal game of cat-and-mouse.
Zim remembered the sheer ecstasy coursing through him as he laughed maniacally, smirking at his frightened human prey. "Victory!" he remembered proclaiming, "Sweet victory at last! Zim has caught the human stink-beast!"
He took a short break to grin cruelly at Dib and to nurture his rant in his head briefly before he unleashed it. "I must admit, you disgusting little worm-baby, it took longer than I expected, but surely you could not have expected any other end than this. No little Earth-stink can stop the great Zim!" He drew himself closer to the human on his mechanical legs, positioning himself so that the most prominent thing in Dib's vision would be Zim's big, red eyes, burning bright with victory. "Know this, Dib-stink, from here it is only a call to the Armada and then your entire filthy, filthy race i—"
"A call to the Armada? Ha!" Dib's voice was shaking, bestowed with a false confidence it couldn't maintain. "You know I've been watching you, Zim, and we both know your Armada's not just going to show up at the doorstop of some degenerate fry cook!'
"Silence!" Zim demanded, punching at a large button on a nearby screen and administering a slight electric shock on Dib's body. He ignored the human's scream of pain as he narrowed his eyes and continued his rant, "You know nothing, you filthy worm! So what if the Armada doesn't come?! Your people are so far beneath me, the great and powerful Zim, that I don't need the Armada! Just one of my ingenious plans, and without you to screw things up, the humans will all be gone before you know it!" Zim scowled at Dib challengingly, then smirked, pleased at Dib's reluctance to say anything more.
"That is, human, if I even let you live that long." Zim poised one of his metallic legs over the human's heart, ready to strike, antennae perking forward as he heard the human's breath catch in his throat.
"You are scared, yes?" the Irken all but purred.
"No, Zim, wait! Are you really gonna let it end like this?!" Dib pleaded, not once taking his eyes off of the sharp tip only inches away from his rapidly beating heart. "Even if you... if you kill me, and take over Earth, what happens then?! Your leaders don't even want Earth!"
"I told you to make silence, human!"
"Wait, wait, listen to me! Who's ever going to admire anything you're doing here besides your mortal enemy?! Come on, Zim, you need me!" Dib poured out whatever words he could find, anything to get himself out of this impossible situation. "I... Zim, ple—"
"Do not defy Zim!" the Irken shouted menacingly, administering another shock on his human prey, succeeding in rendering Dib unconscious. "I called for silence, stink-boy," Zim hissed into the unconscious human's face before lowering himself to the floor and putting his metallic legs away.
Zim took in the helplessness on Dib's unconscious face. "Computer, let go of him," he ordered distractedly as he stared seriously at his prey. It was his victory, and he could feel the pride inherent in that swelling up within him. But more than that, he felt hesitation. He could have killed Dib there and then, could have gotten rid of the only thing keeping him from completing his mission. But this human...
"Humans are so disgustingly weak..." he spat out, taking out his communicator. "GIR! Get down here!"
"Yes, my master!" GIR replied promptly and obediently with steely red eyes, propelling himself down the elevator tube into the lab. His eyes, flashing back to blue almost immediately as he landed, spotted the unconscious Dib lying helpless on the floor and grinned. "Hey! It's Dib! When'd he get here?"
"When you were supposed to be keeping him out of here, GIR," replied Zim through clenched teeth.
"I made him some biscuits!" exclaimed GIR happily, opening up the top of his head to reveal hot biscuits smeared in honey. He dumped them onto the floor beside the human, then watched Dib expectantly for a moment. When he didn't move, GIR frowned sadly. "What'sa matter? You no like biscuits?"
"He's unconscious." Zim glared at the little robot, who now looked even littler than ever before to him, now that Zim was taller.
"Oh..." GIR said in what was almost understanding, then grinned again, crouching down next to Dib. "You and my master have fun playing together?" Then he gasped giddily, "Wanna come play with me and pig next time?!"
"GIR! That's enough already, he's unconscious!" snapped Zim, annoyed. He pointed towards the elevator. "Get him out of here! That's an order!"
"Okie-dokie!" sang GIR as he picked Dib up against his back and flew off up the elevator shaft. It was likely an odd sight, a lanky teenage boy being dragged along by a tiny robot nuisance, but Zim didn't see it.
Zim didn't watch as his robot took his hard-earned prey and set it it free. He was busy thinking, realizing that without Dib, there was nothing left for him on this accursed planet. Taking it over was hardly worth the effort without that challenge that Earth boy presented, after all. What use did the Irken Empire have for such a worthless planet? Dib was by far the planet's most and only valuable asset. And besides, Zim had hardly been fighting Dib for long enough to show the puny human just what kind of spectacular feats he was capable of. He'd destroy the Dib another time, with other methods. This was nothing close to a fitting end. It was pathetic and untimely, better suited to a bird found nesting in his telescope lens than to his greatest enemy.
That was five years ago. Since then, Zim had captured and nearly destroyed Dib twice more: once in the upper level of Zim's base, and once in the Hi Skool's boiler room. The first time he let the human escape on his own. The situation had been, although occurring over a year after the previous capture, far too similar. It disgusted Zim that Dib was still so weak that he could allow himself to be captured like this twice. But the next time was different; Zim had no defensive system installed there in the Hi Skool to assist him. That made it a more complete victory, with Zim against Dib and their strengths almost evenly matched. What Dib lacked in training he made up for in height, what Zim lacked in height he made up for in training, and their physical, muscular strengths had little difference between them by now. But Zim's PAK gave him a considerable advantage over the human, and Dib's wit and innovation proved less than a match as he fell from his place, suspended from a pipe running high along a wall and landed on the floor. He was unconscious by the time Zim walked over to him, and thus Zim walked away, laughing victoriously to himself.
Dib didn't ask questions after the very first time Zim had released him ("I don't have to explain myself to a filthy Earth-monkey!" Zim had claimed), but instead had lived up to Zim's expectations as a formidable opponent. He had captured Zim twice now, once in his father's own lab, and each time he let Zim get away. It pleased the Irken, knowing that he could assault and attack the human at his full capacity and always meet resistance worthy of an Irken invader, knowing that on those rare occasions when he did capture the human, he could simply release the Dib and the chase would begin anew. It satisfied him, knowing that he could experience the thrill and adrenaline rush of a high-risk caper in which the odds against him were staggeringly high, because even if Dib did capture him, Zim had come to trust the human (though he'd never really call it trust) enough to know that he never would end up on an alien autopsy table by Dib's hands.
Their rivalry fulfilled Zim, their almost-poetic banter of insult against insult, taunt against threat, threat against warning, decreasingly childish as time went on until it became purely a battle of Dib's superior wit against Zim's stubborn self-confidence. And when words became actions, their complicated mix of real and pulled punches designed to yield a victor but not a casualty became as ritualistic as the Irken Probing Day. And when physical brawls became battles for the fate of the world, Zim knew they could go all out against each other with whatever technology they could access, be it laser cannons or water balloons, and even in deep space Dib would always survive and Zim would never let himself die so easily.
Zim, after eight years, had become quite thorough in his understanding of the interdependent relationship that he held with his mortal enemy. He understood: they were the same, seeking out their respective purposes after being cast aside like corpses by their respective societies. One thrives at the cost and eternal benefit of the other, watching them suffer and then watching them rise to meet the challenge with an ever-burning fire of hope and trust and faith that no matter who would be the victor, this war needed to go on.
It really, truly fulfilled the Irken more than he could ever describe, and he knew (though would never admit) that it had nothing to do with achieving an ultimate winner or loser.
And that was why Zim needed to keep Dib alive, without regard to whoever would win their perpetual game, their war, their eternal rivalry. Watching the human age and become closer and closer to a pathetic and untimely death that would come all too soon was beyond the Irken's capacity, not that he'd admit it, and he knew that he needed to do something to prevent it. And that was a realization he had made four years ago, when the two of them had entered Hi Skool and received that speech about how their actions there would change the rest of their "short, doomed lives."
So, even if nobody, not even the Almighty Tallest, could quite understand it, the PAK Zim had finally succeeded in creating for his mortal enemy was just as important an aspect to Earth's destruction as anything else. After all, if Zim was going to win the fight for Earth, he'd have to win the fight against Dib first. And there was no way he could do that properly in the human's short, pathetic life span.