Zim lifted his head when someone entered the room and glanced over his shoulder at them. It was the Dib-shit. He looked away, irritated.

"Well Zim," he said, stepping up to the alien. "I have been placed in charge of your fate."

Zim looked up at him, the light in his crimson eyes shifting.

"This is going to be fun," Dib smiled.

"You will get nothing from me," Zim replied. He had been here nearly three days without food, drink, or rest, sitting under these glaring lights with absolutely nothing to do. He doubted anything Dib could do would be any worse than this.

"We will see." Dib stepped around the chair and released the restraint from one of Zim's wrists, allowing him to slip his arms around front and then binding them again there. He took a roll of ductape from his arm and grabbed Zim by the back of the neck, pushing him forward roughly.

"Don't struggle. They will put you down faster than you can blink," he said as he tore strips from the roll and began securing them over Zim's PAK.

"I will tear you apart, bit by little bit," the Irken hissed back, not moving but to glare at his captor. "Just you watch your back.."

"Because you are in such a position to do such, right?" Dib laughed and pushed the alien back against the chair, crossing his arms. "Get up."

Zim rose to his unimpressive height but refused to look up at Dib, glaring instead at the boy's throat. Such a vulnerable place on a human..

"Jesus, I've forgotten how short you are.. You haven't grown at all since hi-Skool, have you?"

Zim didn't reply, just glared. His time would come.

Dib gave his shoulder a push and he turned around, moving towards the door. Half-way there, he was struck across the back of the neck, the blow sending blindingly dazzling flashes through the Irken's head to his vision. He wavered and fell to his knees in surprise, dipping his head and closing his eyes quickly against the now painfully-bright lights of the room. A well-aimed kick sent him tumbling and he curled in slightly as he struck the floor, protecting his face and chest with his arms.

"Stop being so pathetic," Dib chuckled, nudging the alien with his boot. Zim clenched his teeth and sat up, forcing himself to his feet and glaring again at the boy's throat, refusing to give him the satisfaction of being looked up to.

"Where is GIR?"

"I'm not telling you," Zim hissed.

Dib struck him across the face and his body rocked back from the force, but he didn't move.

"I asked you a question."

Antennae pinned, Zim bared his teeth in a fierce growl and attacked the boy, driving him to the floor with his body weight and striking at his face with his cuffed hands. Dib drove a punch into his stomach and threw him to the unyielding floor beside him, shifting to kneel atop him. Zim struggled, snapping like a trapped dog.

He choked as a strong, calculated hand slid around his throat and clenched ever so slightly. Dib leaned down, grinning.

"You are my bitch now, Zim. I have permission to do whatever the hell I so please with you. You're mine."

Zim looked up and met Dib's eye, so much passing between the simple contact and he knew it was true. Dib rose, dragging him up off the floor by the throat and setting him on his feet once again.

"Now, let's go. We have some activities planned for you."

Zim followed along with the human as he was led out the door, through the hall, and down the stairs. When they emerged in the lobby of the building, everyone stopped to look up at him. Zim felt his skin prick at all the human eyes on him as they crossed the room. Beside him, Dib seemed to be swelling with pride and contempt. He was in his own world; soaking in the admiration of his fellows as they realized something he had been waiting all his life for. That he was right.

Zim was relieved when they moved from the room into another hall. There were not so many people here, and the ones who were happened to all be wearing unnervingly white lab coats. Labs… not the dog, the experimental, prodding, alien-cutting kind. Sickening.

Dib opened a door and forcefully directed Zim inside.

"Sit down."

Zim took a moment to look around the room as he moved slowly towards a chair. There was so much to look at.. cabinets and a table, equipment and instruments all laid out so dauntingly, the chair with its restraints and some odd machine looming over it. He sat in the seat and looked down as Dib unfastened his cuffs and began strapping his wrists to the arms of the seat. His legs were restrained as well and Dib stepped back, smirking.

"How appropriate. How does it feel, alien?"

Zim shifted and squinted up at his mouth. "Feels just fine, human."

"Well good. We wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable."

At that moment two men stepped into the room, donning their white coats and surgical masks.

Zim watched as they talked with Dib while pulling on latex gloves.. white to match their coats. Why is white such an intimidating color..?

Dib leaned against the wall by the door, crossing his arms with that same confident smirk.

'0ne day,' Zim thought, narrowing his eyes. '0ne day I will carve those lips right off his face.'

The men came to him, talking among themselves as one took notes and their other listed off physical attributes of the Irken, much to Zim's secret awkwardness. The clipboard was set down and the man picked up something resembling a helmet. They returned to Zim and the man tapped one of his antennae. It twitched irritatedly at the contact and they did it again. Twitch again.

0ne of the men carefully took both antennae in hand and pulled them back. Zim tried to ignore it, but the pain was so intense that he soon found himself tilting his head back to accommodate. He growled and struggled against his restraints as the man lifted a small dropper in his other hand and squeezed two drops of liquid into each eye, holding the lids open for a brief amount of time to let the liquid settle. Zim tried to shake his head away from them, but they pulled on his delicate antennae harder and he was obliged to sit still.

The helmet was placed over his head, flattening his antennae against his skull uncomfortably. It fastened under his chin with a buckle and covered his skull and part of his face. Two pieces like eyesglasses were built onto it over his eyes and he blinked rapidly as soon as he was released. His eyes were dry and numb-feeling, and no tears came though he willed them to wash away whatever filthy Earth-product had invaded his eyes. He protested with growls and hisses as his head was secured in place by two metal pieces to either side of the chair, screwed into place until they fit snugly against his skull. His vision was blurred beyond any ability to see, which scared him but he kept his composure as the technicians examined his eyes through the magnifying glass on the helmet. They took notes.. so many notes.. and continued to talk to themselves in hushed voices.

Pigmentation, irises, reflective qualities.. things Zim didn't understand as he willed for it to be done with soon. His eyes were so dry he couldn't close them, for without any moisture the eyelids just scraped against the eye.

Soon, one of the men reached up and brought the machine down before Zim's face. They fixed it in place and stepped from the room, turning out the lights and making Dib step out with them. Using a control panel outside the door, they activated the machine. Two lasers began a slow scan of his eyes, the red slicing through his blurred vision uncomfortably, causing pain as his eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden light.

It ended none-too-soon and the small group returned, flicking back on the lights and lifting the machine away.

They removed the helmet and left for a few minutes to do god-knows what. Zim found that he could finally blink and close his eyes, but he still was blinded.

"Having fun?" Dib's voice cut like a knife, close to his face. He closed his vulnerable eyes and hissed.

"I thought so." Dib straightened from his lean down in the alien's face and wandered about the room, looking over the tools and such laid out with approval. He brought up the images from the scan on the computer, looking them over with interest while he awaited the technicians to return.

Zim released a sigh as quiet as he could manage and opened his eyes, twitching his aggravated antennae.

He was startled when the men returned to the room, talking and laughing as if they didn't care at all that what they were about to do—and what they had already done—was horrific and agonizing.

Dib returned to his place by the door and watched.

Zim glared at the men as he was just barely able to do, the numbing effect gradually wearing off. He would later wish it hadn't.

0ne of the men, whose name was Ypsa (Zim had gathered that much from their idle chat) picked up a small metal tray and set it on the cart near to the chair. He pushed it closer and Zim's chair was leaned back slowly, to his startled alarm.

"Dib," the other man said, "Care to watch? This is your find, after all."

"Don't mind if I do," Dib replied, stepping over and taking up residence behind the seat, again against the wall.

Zim blinked rapidly, trying to see what was happening as an object was lifted from the tray and brought near to his face. Something was slid under the eyelids of his right eye, clicking into place and holding it open. He didn't wait to see what was going on. Zim began to struggle, fighting the unyielding restraints and shaking his head, wanting to be free of the devise that was so firm against his eyelids.

"Hold it still," Ypsa instructed. The other man placed a hand over Zim's forehead and another on his chest and held him still, ignoring his uselessly flailing hands.

Again, something was lifted and brought to his face. He paused a moment, not wanting to hurt himself.

He watched with horror and growing clarity as a scalpel hovered over his eye. He snarled as it was scraped carefully over the surface. Pain bloomed in the wake of the blade and he bit his tongue to keep from screaming.

The man deposited his sample carefully onto a glass slide and covered it with tape, handing it to the other and removing the device from Zim's eye. He blinked rapidly and spat at the men. They recoiled, obviously fearful of his alien germs.

"Get the fuck away from me!" he snarled. They ignored his words, much to his further enragement. He renewed his struggles, fighting against the buckles that held him so firmly against the chair.

"Alright, we are done here," Ypsa said, removing his gloves carefully and depositing them into a toxic box. They left the room with the notes and 'sample', talking again in that 'scientific voice'.

Dib nodded and stepped forward, taking the cuffs from his pocket and crossing his arms before Zim.

"Calm down, it's not helping," he said to the still-struggling alien. Zim sighed and watched as he released him from the chair only to bind his wrists together again.

"I hate you," he hissed at the boy.

"A mutual feeling. Let's go, we have so much more for you.." Dib grinned.