symbiosis
[sim′bē·ō′sis]
Etymology: Gk, syn, together, bios, life
1 a mode of living characterized by a close association between organisms of different species.
2 a state in which two people are emotionally dependent on each other.
Never spoken of, never thought about or whispered in nights of pure loneliness when the crickets chirped and they sat together on top of his roof, the stars their only real source of light. The night was a shield from many things, mostly the reality that was their odd relationship. Because when the daylight broke the horizon and the birds replaced the insects in their singing, Zim and Dib became enemies again. At least in their minds this was true.
But, as their teacher Miss. Bitters, reluctantly taught, some relationships were unavoidable. The two creatures, always from separate species fed off of each other. Needed one and other for survival. The clown fish and the sea anemone. Flowers and the honey bees.
Unlikely and oh-so different, the creatures depended on the other for survival. It had been that way since time had brought them together.
Zim growled when the laser never cut through the human's flesh, for the Dib always had something of use to him and when all was said and done the idea of not having an enemy, of someone not being there to gasp at all the right moments of his evil plots, of never seeing the golden eyes that screamed the hatred that was never ending. Yes, Dib's death had to be spectacular; it had to be fitting and mighty for one such as him. No ordinary shot to the brain would do.
Dib lifted the unconscious irken off the ground, frowning as he did so. The water was still eating away at the moron's skin, and it never occurred to him to leave his enemy there. Human compassion went too far, his out of place loyalty and urges to treat Zim with hope that he himself would one day have the favor returned. Because if Zim was injured then it meant that it would take longer for him to get back up and fight. It would means days of boredom and more minutes to count until they met again.
They always returned to point A, denying the need to see the other fall. The even bigger need to see the other stand back up again and laugh. The cover up the fate of Earth when neither really cared about the orb of idiots and trash. But, what else could be a good excuse to keep meeting?
Stumbled upon point B once or twice, to begin to recognize the other's favorite foods and the crooked tilt to his smile, the smallest words that lit their eyes with joy. Then something happened and they couldn't stand each other, the way they twisted their words around to mean one thing. The hatred was returned, welcome and viciously they fought until someone bled out on the floor, near to death and mouth shut to avoid any noise of surrender.
Then common sense, their own individual excuse kicked in and they rescued their enemy from the death they had almost certainly caused.
A messed up cycle that kept repeating, repeating, repeating because Dib hated himself and his peers, his father who ignored him, the voices in his head that sounded like those monsters. Zim was the thing, the vile stupid thing, that made the doubts and fears disappear in a blast of vitality and distractions. The alien was the bad guy, and Dib was the hero, the savior.
It repeated and repeated and repeated because Zim hated himself and his people who laughed at him behind his back, even as denial was a wonderful tool to have at your disposal. Hated his henchmen who could never do anything right. It just reminded Zim of how things used to be on Irk and how it used to be in the academy. How he could never do anything correctly either.
But, then out of the corner of his eye he would catch a glimpse of that meat sack and the worries would fly out the window, replaced with the conviction to destroy the planet, adrenaline to fight back with someone equally matched in everything he could throw at him. Zim could be destructive and defective and the human thought it came naturally for him, thought it was a threat and more than just stupidity as well as bad genes.
Yes, because even if they wanted to be free of one another, there was more need to be stuck together forever, in the cycle that was becoming fastly common place.
Ms. Bitters kept talking and talking, it was a drone in Dib's ears, in Zim's antenna, as they sent each other sly glances. Their organs clenched with the welcome feeling of hatred, hands shook as the clocked ticked, closer to the time they could stand and battle out the latest argument.
Neither heard the word that their horrible teacher used to describe such relationships that happened between two species, "Symbiant."
