Buzzing yellow lights flash by quickly overhead, then darkness. A door breathes open and shut and city sounds fade. Cold against his back, pressure. Hard to breathe. Pain in waves, carrying him up and down. A faint touch of nausea.
A police siren whizzes by quickly, or maybe an ambulance? Could be a firetruck. Something like that. Emergency somewhere.
Footsteps, quiet, whispering as they move. A quiet hiss, muttering.
It's cold, so cold, and he shivers, something's touching him.
He's sitting up, chin dropped against his chest, blood dripping from his lips. His eye flickers open and he stares hazily at the dirty wooden floor between his legs, hands curled in his lap. Dib tries to lift his head but a cold hand slides under his chin, lifting it for him and he finds himself looking into the face of something.. not human. Green. Crimson. Sharp white teeth bared, another hiss. He blinks slowly and closes his eye again, fading.
Sounds come first, sounds of the city he knows so well. Just like outside his apartment. Cars, a train in the distance, sirens long off, a helicopter. Dib moans softly and works to open his eye, gunky tears causing resistance as his lashes pull apart. The world swirls, slowly coming into focus. The dirty floor. Wooden floorboards. His lap, dust smudged on his black jeans. Hands limp and upturned at his sides, blood dried onto them. He blinks slowly and lifts his head, looking around. He shivers with cold and brings a hand up to his chest, finding it bare. He glances down again, head swimming dizzily at the motion. Where is his coat? Where is his.. shirt? He looks up again, vision becoming a little clearer. Dib runs his tongue over his lips, tasting the blood. He slowly climbs to his feet, using the wall he is leaned against for support. Something pulls at the skin on his back and he reaches behind him to touch but can't quite reach the spot. He frowns, and feels the same tug on his face. Lifting a hand, he gingerly touches around his right eye and feels something rubbery attached to his skin. He tries to peel it off but it sticks stubbornly. He stumbles over to a window, boarded from the outside, and tries to see himself in the filtering streetlight. Something is definitely on his face, covering his right eye and most of his cheek below it. He turns and looks over his shoulder at the glass, seeing the same substance on his back where he was shot. He looks around the depleted room, surmising he is in some kind of abandoned building. He steps towards the door on calf's legs and stumbles, falling to one knee weakly.
Something exhales quietly from a corner of the room and he lifts his head, eyes straining in the darkness. There is a light thump as Zim drops down from an exposed beam in the ceiling and steps towards him. Dib falls back and quickly tries to scoot away from the alien, mind clouded. Zim narrows his gleaming eyes and swiftly moves forward, snatching the human by the throat and lifting him from the ground completely. Dib chokes and reaches, wrapping his hands around the cold wrist and struggling. Zim glares a moment and then drops him none too gently, turning away with a flourish and clicking. Dib sits up slowly and looks at him, hand to his throat. The alien is wearing his trenchcoat, buttoned modestly. The alien paces to the other side of the room and peers out through a crack in the boards on a window.
Dib gets to his feet slowly, wincing. "Thank you," he whispers, voice hoarse and strange from his dry throat. The alien's antennae twitch but he doesn't respond. Dib glances at the door but decides he cannot go outside like this. He searches for his sweater but does not see it. Maybe the alien is wearing that as well, beneath the coat.
He returns to where he was sitting earlier and slides down the wall slowly until he is sitting. Need to think, to figure out his next plan of action. Can't go home, never. They'll be watching, searching for him. He sighs and coughs, fresh blood speckling his lips. Dib leans over and spits, scowling. The expression makes his face hurt and he lifts a hand again to pick at the substance, not liking the feel of it. He peels up a corner and starts to pull but suddenly the alien is in front of him, crouched down and grabbing his hand away, glaring. Dib submissively allows his hand to be lowered to his lap and he stares at the green face as the alien gently smooths the substance back down against his cheek. The crimson eyes meet his for just a moment and then the alien is gone again, pacing away to the shadows of a corner. Dib ponders the creature before closing his eye and drifting into an uneasy but much-needed rest.