The Things I Left Unsaid
Chapter Two
-xxx-
Dib remembered how it all started.
He couldn't entirely blame Dwicky, but that didn't stop him from resenting the junior high counselor. He has turned out to be just another idiot who had written Dib off as delusional, even though Dib had presented him with piles of meticulous notes and overwhelming (albeit circumstantial) evidence. Dwicky has dismissed his life's work as nonsense until the proof had landed right in front of his face.
But Dwicky had also been the only kind of person worse than a skeptic.
He was a meddler.
Dib remembered the exhilaration at finally having someone on his side - someone inquisitive and friendly and willing to listen. And most importantly, an adult. Having and ally with a little more influence and respect would help immensely in his struggle to inform mankind of the danger in its midst.
"So," Dwicky had chirped. Dib looked up from twiddling his thumbs anxiously in his lap. "When did Zim get here? I haven't had a chance to look over his files."
"He's been here since eight months and twenty-three days ago," Dib had answered promptly.
"Wow." The man had blinked his big blue eyes. "You sure do know a lot about him."
Dib beamed proudly. "I keep very precise records."
Dwicky looked away for a while. Afternoon was fading into evening, and no alien had yet arrived. The boy kicked his feet back and forth patiently, no less undeterred.
"Dib?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you have many friends?"
The kid had frowned a little. "Besides you … not really."
Mr. Dwicky hesitated a moment to take the fact in. "Are there any girls you like?" He nudged Dib with his elbow and cocked his head to the side. "Y'know … like-like?"
Dib's dubious expression had faded and he had answered, "Um … no. Not really." He thought for a moment. "If you're implying that I might have any emotional ties that would hold me back from risking my life to stop Zim, I assure you, you have nothing to worry about."
"Oh. Uh, that's good!"
Dib has blinked up at the counselor. "I hope this doesn't seem rude, but you look kind of distracted. If there's anything I can do, just let me know soon. We need to be on our toes if we want to catch Zim and interrogate him."
"Well…" Dwicky squinted a little, and Dib looked up at him in curiosity. "…Dib, do you ever think of yourself as, well … different?"
"Different? Are you kidding me? I'm more than different." Looking back at the clearing they were spying on, he scoffed. "I'm the only one who sees Zim for what he really is."
"Yeah, but I mean, there's nothing wrong with being special. Some people are born feeling differently about the world, and some are different if they have unusual homes - ones where they only have one parent … or ones where the parent is working and is gone a lot."
"Hmmm."
Dib had furrowed his brow, staring at the ground and seeming to take this in.
The hand clapping gently down on his shoulder made Dib jump.
"You're just a kid. A bright one," Dwicky mused aloud. "But if you ever feel different in any way - when you're older, maybe - that's perfectly okay."
The budding paranormal investigator smiled up at the counselor. "Thanks, Mr. Dwicky. But … what does that have to do with Zim?"
Dwicky made the three-part humming noise for I-don't-know and gave a jerky shrug. "Possibly nothing. But if it does have something to do with Zim, you'll know."
Finally, the boy lowered his raised eyebrow. "O…kay."
Dwicky had fixed him in that buggy-eyed stare before smiling and chuckling softly.
Mystifying.
Dib figured out what Dwicky had meant exactly one year and four months later.
-xxx-
It was an average day - a lot of insults and being shouldered roughly in the hallway. Dib had lectured three kids on the importance of his work by lunchtime, calling after each of them, "You'll see! Someday, you'll see." He did great on his math quiz and actually got 100% on his history test (although he didn't get any points for his bonus paragraph on the Nazis having been possessed by the spirits of vampires.) When Ms. Bitters handed his test back, she glared at his wide-eyed grin.
During lunch he overheard it.
Usually, the jocks argued about who gave the best wedgies and professional sports teams. Today, the snippets of conversation he overheard made him squirt orange juice out of his nose.
"It's only, like, after my parents go to bed. Y'know?"
"What do you watch?"
"The pay channels my bro gets."
"Whoa!"
"Damn."
"My mom doesn't let stuff like that in the house. I gotta just do it in the shower."
"Ha ha," jeered one of the beefy football players. "So what do you think about?"
"U-uh-" The kid shrugged nervously. "Y'know, stuff."
"Why you scared to tell us? You're not a faggot, are ya, dude? Huh?"
"Zita," he blurted. As soon as the syllables passed through his lips he clapped a hand over his mouth.
"Zita?"
"Zita and you?"
"I just do it in my bed."
"Oh, man, that's fucking gross."
"Do you use a sock?"
Gaz put down her forkful of peas, raising an eyebrow as Dib rubbed the orange juice off his face with the back of his sleeve. "What's the matter, Dib? Thought you were the only one?"
The paranormal investigator stared at his sister. "Gaz!"
"Well you're not, so get over yourself."
"Gaz!" he hissed again. "I don't do that."
"You don't?" she gawked. "How old are you?"
"I don't have time for stuff like that. I'm busy saving the world!"
"Seriously. And I thought you couldn't get any weirder. Don't you even have any- like- you know what, I don't wanna know."
Dib opened his mouth to defend himself when his sister scooted her chair back.
"Why don't you go ask Zim? He's an alien. Maybe he doesn't get boners either."
As Gaz picked her tray up and left, Dib's mouth fell open, closed, then opened again.
"HA!"
Dib glared across the room towards the source of the noise. Zim sneered mockingly at him.
"The Dib-worm flaps his sustenance-hole like a fish!"
Clenching his fists, Dib raised his voice. "AT LEAST I'M NOT A GIANT SPACE LIZARD!" He glared daggers at Zim before remembering what Gaz had said. Before Zim could spit back a retort, Dib had turned beet-red and sprinted out of the room.
-xxx-
The bass throbbed through the floor, and overhead, the dim magenta and amber lights pulsed to the thrum. He swallowed another mouthful of his drink and ran his tongue over the front of his teeth. He was already angry, and the fact that the most expensive alcohol in the galaxy only tasted like sugar water on his human taste buds served to piss him off more. Out here, it didn't matter if you were the person your race revered as the only one who could have saved them. Out here it didn't matter that you had led the strongest military defense your planet had ever organized.
And quite frankly, none of that mattered to Dib Membrane anyway.
The carnal beat of the music was doing little to soothe the racing of his heart as his mind tried to close in on itself, wrapping itself in web after web of inescapable memory of a time when his knees were covered in dirt and the city rose up around him like a cage and the stars seemed very far away. Memories so solidified in the mind of his younger self that no amount of alcohol could ever, ever blot them out.
-xxx-
It was extremely rare for Dib to fall asleep thinking about himself.
Amber eyes would hold the dusty ceiling as the mind beneath them drifted from theory to theory. Grainy footage. Footprints. The sealed records of corpsmen now locked in mental wards. Abductions; animal maimings. Chapters in history books that were surreptitiously deleted and lost.
It was even rarer for him to think about school.
His eyes fluttered shut in horror as he recalled their conversation.
Was it really that strange to not …? He did have … feelings.
Feelings that were light and fluttery and thick and heavy all at once. Unbidden sensations in the pit of his stomach that left him squirmy and inexplicably irritated. But he just…
…he just didn't have time.
The click in his throat was audible as he folded one hand beneath the covers to run his fingertips tentatively along the hem of his shirt.
He didn't even know what he was doing.
When he slipped his hand into his boxers his heart stuttered and heat tingled in his cheeks, making him squirm in embarrassment and anxiety.
The gradual response was a soft pulsing of his heartbeat between his legs that made his stomach tighten and his mouth feel dry.
It wasn't difficult to figure out. The heat built up in sharp bursts when he moved his fingers, and gentle, uncertain squeezes sent a dark and profound whirl of warmth through his head. His heart was suddenly thrumming against his chest, and an almost-painful tautness began to take him over that made his head tilt back and the cords in his neck tighten as his back arched minutely toward his fingers.
Dib cracked his eyes open, his dry lips pulling apart for air. Heat was clinging to his skin as he slid his legs further apart and he began to work waster. His objective was beginning to make itself known. The air tasted like dust and his sheets felt too rough and he could see every crack and flaw in his moonwashed ceiling.
He suddenly realized that he was supposed to be thinking of something.
Panic filled him as he gasped for air, his movements hastening as his mind whirled, frantically searching.
the pay channels my bro gets
Zita
Why don't you go ask Zim?
He's an alien.
Dib's eyes flew open in shock at his own mind. He was supposed to be thinking about something embarrassing and dirty but the only thing that made him feel angry and awake and alive
and exhilarated
was being at the point of a loaded gun and
being torn into by little razor-sharp claws
and staring in panic and anger into those deep
red
eyes
His head flew back as his heels dug into the sheets and he spurted hot thick wetness into his clammy fingers and against his heavy comforter.
He melted spinelessly onto the bed, panting and letting his head loll to the side on his dull blue pillowcase.
Shit.
The moon was irritatingly bright, and he squeezed his eyes shut before turning to face away from his window.
He felt filthy.
The world swung dangerously around him as the boy slid off his bed and onto the carpet. He stumbled on legs the consistency of jelly to the bathroom, where he slapped cold, soapy water onto his hands and face and on his thighs and his crotch. He wobbled back to his room and tried not to be overcome by the heaviness in his head.
Dib collapsed onto his bed with a kind of weight he hadn't thought possible.
Groping blindly for the covers, he pulled them tight around himself and moved his leg to avoid the damp spot. He gave a long, shuddering sigh and closed his eyes exhaustedly. He didn't have any energy to worry about the implications.
They would be there tomorrow.
