[Edited on January 11, 2017. A million thanks to Ice-Woman n AVG for proofreading.]
Gaz hated going to the supermarket after school more than the popular girls' shrill laughter.
It only had to be done once or twice a week, but still each cell of her body hated the place so much that it made her house sound like a free video-game store located in heaven.
With stockers coming out from the shadows, getting in the way with tons and tons of products, ridiculously high shelves that forced short customers like her to put hidden monkey skills into practice, and the long queues full of old ladies who would usually try to initiate a conversation with the cashier or 'unintentionally' delay him by counting the coins inside their purses, supermarkets were the second place in Gaz's personal list of the most displeasing places to be at. Right after school, yet surprisingly before her house. Her hate wasn't directly linked to people though. The main problem was what roaming around the aisles and standing in the long queues brought. Waiting gave her time... time in which she hadn't other choice than to think. And Gaz was utterly disgruntled with that.
She merely wanted to find sanitary pads somewhere in the huge building, toss them inside the shopping cart, pay, and head home straight away to play God of War 4. She didn't want to think about her freak of a brother, her absent father, her obvious emotional disorder, or the very recent issue, the moron.
Oh no, Gaz refused to think about Zim, the brainless alien who'd been specially trained to be a failure, who owned the second most annoying voice all over the universe; the disdainful being incapable of realising he was the raw picture of irritating stupidity -just no. There wasn't much to think when it came to him. He was noisy, he was idiotic, he was... walking down the aisle towards her.
What the actual...?
The goth girl froze in place just as Zim stopped inspecting the shelf at his side, turned his head, and caught her eye. He came to a smirking halt beside her, holding his own shopping basket and wearing a –Gaz was dumbfounded– disguise that was incredibly similar to the usual one. The same fake blue eyes, the same ridiculous wig but with more black hair. Zim had really become a creative master of discretion as time went by, hadn't he?
"So, we meet again, Gaz-human."
"Haven't you considered the idea of modifying your tricky disguise?" Gaz had already asked in plain disbelief before she had the chance to go over her words.
With a dismissive gesture of his free hand, Zim stifled a snort of amusement. "If it were you walking among these oblivious people, would you actually bother yourself by trying to seem less suspicious? Take into account that no one noticed your identity in the past."
Gaz hummed and nodded to herself, ignoring the unusual way in which her stomach was churning. Why did the retarded alien has that effect on her? "Coming from you, that argument sounds pretty reasonable." She carefully eyed the basket Zim was carrying. There was some food below, and lots and lots of... Gaz raised a questioning eyebrow. "You came here just to buy tens of disinfectant sprays?"
The expression on Zim's face changed to a blank one as he glanced at the basket, then back at Gaz. "I need them to survive on these poisonous fields, but no, I didn't come here only for them. Can't you see there are a few products underneath the disinfectant sprays which you humans call 'food'?" He pointed at the teen's cart. "Look, you are buying them as well."
The thumping beat of her heart seemed to have ceased, only to come back as an undesirable tingling in her arms. "I don't see why not buy them. I'm not the one whose skin sizzles or melts at the mere sight of common food. You, on the other hand..."
"I know.And that's why, aside from the snacks, this is not for me. I'd rather spend a whole day inside that awful school than eating this excrement. However, I finished fixing GIR today and he is starving, as odd as that sounds."
Gaz mentally shivered at the little robot's name. How could her body not shudder at the thought of the metallic thingthat stole her very first kiss? "So, your minion is... hungry... and used to be broken you say?"
"Precisely. He was right behind me, lying on the table when you sneaked into my base and punchedme. It surprises me you didn't notice, I was certain you were a formidable spy." Gaz furrowed her brow at his insistence mixed with tints of sarcasm. She opened her mouth to snap at him, but in the end she closed it again like a fish, then sighed heavily and steered the cart further into the aisle as if she hadn't heard him at all.
"Hey, wait!" Zim panicked, grasping the girl's arm stronger than necessary.
She jerked her arm away furiously. "Unless you want me to punch the air out of your lungs, you will nottouch me again." Zim backed off instinctively under the murderous gaze. "What?"
"You still owe me an explanation!"
Gaz let out a derisive snort. "I owe you nothing, idiot."
"All right, you don't want to cooperate. Maybe Zim should find your stupid brother."
"Yeah, Zim should do that," the goth agreed mockingly. "As long as you stop molesting, you can always kidnap him after school or something. I have reason to believe he's got detention today, so be there at 4:15 or earlier and go catch up with your old friend."
The ex-invader quirked an invisible eyebrow in an exaggerated manner. "Friend?" he inquired, clearly disgusted by the word. "What's wrong with you, little Gaz?"
An infinity of things."Just go bother him. And stop calling me that."
"Calling you what? Little Gaz?" His face creaked into the most shit-eating grin Gaz had ever have the displeasure of seeing. "But that describes you perfectly."
"You'd better wipe that smile off your face," the girl threatened between tight teeth.
Zim simply chuckled, throwing his head back. "A smile, you say? Come on, little Gaz,I don't smile. Perhaps I might smirk a lot; I might even grin every now and then. But certainly, I don't smile."
"I don't give a damn, just call me by my real name. Or better yet, stop talking to me altogether." She turned and reached out for the cart, determined to walk away and end their dense conversation. She wasn't expecting, however, to be pulled by the arm like some submissive girlfriend into his body. His thin, inexplicably warm body. Gaz could literally feel her frown being replaced by a blush that spread like wildfire all over her cheeks, but before the abrupt proximity brought more scandalous reactions, she shoved the alien away and finally snapped at him. "What do you think you are doing?!"
A danger alarm went off. Zim stepped back and collected his sorry self quickly, clearing his throat and clutching the basket harder. "You were leaving, and I need to ask you a question."
"Dib can answer any question you'd like to ask," lied the flushed teen, "So go and submit him to interrogation."
"But...!" Zim paused to swallow. Gaz noticed his features were softening the slightest bit. "Will I... eh... be able to recognize him?" the ex-invader asked slowly, trying to hide both his –Earth be damned– anxiety and curiosity. He couldn't refrain himself from wondering if his former enemy had changed since the last time they had seen each other, either physically or mentally.
"Yeah, you will. People don't change that much in three years. He's still an outcast, still wears those stupid glasses, still wears the same clothes. You're going to spot him easily."
"And I guess we are talking about the same horrible building, right?"
Gaz released a frustrated sigh. "The same school you used to attend three years ago."
"I can imagine that nowadays, you go there too, don't you?"
"Does it really matter?" the girl questioned in a dry, irritable manner, not quite following the conversation.
"Don't pretend to be mysterious, Gaz-human. Just answer." She closed her eyes, balled her fists and inhaled deeply through her nose before nodding stiffly, doing everything within her mental reach so as to avoid public murder. Gaz Membrane didn't like orders.
In the meanwhile, Zim smirked triumphantly, more at himself than at the girl next to him. Perfect."Then I supposed we'll be coming across each other more often," he concluded in a playful tone.
Which caught Gaz's attention at its fullest. "You say that as if it were something good."
"Oh, it is good. I didn't do anything after you punched me." And here, Zim leaned disturbingly close, pushing aside previous fear and hesitation as though they hadn't slipped out in first place. He flashed a broad, intimidating, dark grin that thanks to his height and zipper-like teeth looked scarier than Gaz would ever admit aloud. "But sooner or later, Little Gaz,I'll take revenge."
The air hitched in the goth's lungs and her heart leapt to her throat. She couldn't tell what was the alien exactly referring to by 'revenge', but it doubtlessly caused her body to react. She acknowledged the reaction at once -the tingly sensation racking her stomach, the unfamiliar pressure in her entire abdomen. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, but deep inside she knew what was happening, its name, its definition. Gazlene Membrane, the teen who was thought to be one of the most frigid people at high school, the girl who would single-handedly remove each limb of the suicidal person who dared to just think about approaching her, was insanely aroused.
Crap.
Gaz could barely stand the sprout of the emotions evoked in her by Zim. This, was way too much. Out of frustration, she straightened to the limit and lifted her chin high, locking gazes with the irritatingly taller alien to put out the fire fuelling restless in her body. "Just try," she challenged, wearing an artificial, emotionless expression.
"I am afraid trying is not an option." Even closer. "So beware, because I will take revenge." He moved to her ear with a faint teasing touch of his lips and stated, in a more confident, low voice, "And I will succeed."
The hot breathing brushing her ear elicited a mild grunt from Gaz, and it also prompted one of her hands to clutch his uniform in a futile attempt to kill the lewd, brand new urges rushing through her system.
A stocker coughed loudly somewhere near them.
Zim basically jumped one meter away at the untimely sound... much to Gaz's abrupt relief. The alien in disguise turned at the male teen when the later poked him in the shoulder. "What?" he asked, vexed to the core, not pleased in the least with an interruption in such a glorious, delicious moment.
"Excuse me, I didn't mean to... eh, you know..." The stocker pointed fleetingly at the pair several times in a way that signalled he was lacking proper words so as not to make it sound, well, awkwardly suggestive. "But I believe you're the owner of the rare green dog tied outside?"
Concern made its way into the thin alien. ". . .It is mine, yes."
"Okay, um..." The pathetic-looking teen rubbed the back of his head. A condensed wave of sexual tension was filling the air flowing in the entire aisle and it was just impossible to gloss over. "You see dude, the dog is kind of... attacking customers that leave carrying their purchases, despite the leash. It apparently seizes non-canned food. A woman complained to me just now. She told me your dog ate her meat, plastic tray and all, and her... toilet paper, too... So, I was wondering... can you do something about it? Tie it on another place far away from the entrance, for example?" Zim gaped at the stocker, who picked his nose impassively before adding, "The angry lady is waiting for you outside, by the way."
Zim was about to open his mouth when somebody with a deafening voice echoing from the outside screamed at the top of any human lung. Each person in the super-market, including Gaz and all the present employees, canted their heads in the direction of the curt cry, waiting curiously for other sounds. There went five silent seconds until the same masculine fierce voice cursed like a trucker.
"WHAT THE SHIT-INCRUSTED HELL ARE YOU DOING TO MY GROCERIES?! GIVE ME THAT BACK, YOU FUCKING GREEN DOG!"
Gaz and the stocker stared at the equally 'green boy'.
Zim's eye twitched as he dropped the basket to the floor. "I knew I should have left GIR at home!" he yelled at no one in particular, then made his way through the crowd of customers and stormed out the super-market.
"GIR? What a weird name for a dog," the oblivious stocker commented, resuming the nose picking.
Gaz winced in disgust. She looked around absently and re-took hold of the cart, promptly deciding that this was none of her business. She picked up whatever required stuff she'd missed, waited a little longer in the shortest queue, paid, and headed outside. She spotted Zim arguing heatedly with an enraged man and an hysterical woman across the parking lot, but she quickly drew her gaze back and fixed it on the way home.
Poor miserable bastard.
.
The door was kicked open savagely, banging against the wall.
Zim entered the house, three bags in one hand, the other gripping GIR's leash as he dragged the robot in. He placed the bags on the floor and released GIR, looking absolutely stressed and displeased even with their arrival. Huffing, he removed the wig, contact lenses and tossed them haphazardly across the room. "It's your first day here and you have caused me trouble already, GIR. Why don't you obey me?"
GIR removed the green hood, his tongue sticking out. "I wanna make cupcakes!" he exclaimed cheerfully, launching his small form at the bags to get flour and... other stuff Zim doubted were essential for the recipe.
A resentful sigh came out. Zim could easily acknowledge lost battles. "Fine. Don't burn down the house."
"Okeydokey!" GIR rushed towards the kitchen, stopped dead in his tracks in the short way and spun on his little heels again, offering a confused expression that just didn't match his face. "Hey, master, what about the mission?"
Zim paid no heed to the sudden pressure on his Irken heart, biting his inner cheek instead. How was he supposed to explain allto such a defective mind like GIR's? Explaining his current height had been hard enough. "The mission... had to be aborted, GIR. Irk no longer needs our loyalty."
The robot pouted, presumably not having understood a single word. "Are we staying in Earth?"
"Not forever. I must fix my PAK and re-install weapons, update the voot-cruiser manually, modify its size. There's a lot to do. We are staying until everything is done. Then..." I don't know where we'll end up."We'll look for a new place."
"Aww, I don't wanna leave!"
Zim frowned. "Why not?"
"There's tuna here. And waffles. And tacos. I LOVE TACOS!"
The tall alien winced at the shriek, touching the base of his sensitive antennas to soothe the pain. "I know that!" He ran a gloved hand down his face and lowered the tone. "But I can't stay here. My body doesn't tolerate Earth food, and there's this horrid water everywhere; it's like acid... Agh, I hate it so much." His posture dropped an so did his tone, falling to an uncommon voice barely audible. "Don't you understand GIR? Prevailing stuff that are vital for humans are lethal to my health. The atmosphere here is critically unfavourable, and since we aren't admitted in Irk... I had better find another place."
The minion's ever-present smile twisted downwards. GIR might have been a defect as well, but he noticed the change in his master's behaviour straight away. "Does master need a hug?"
By the time Zim opened his mouth to reject the offer, GIR had released the items and clung to his legs as though his life depended on them. He stared at the robot and couldn't prevent his eyes from softening affectionately the slightest bit. To think that once upon a time GIR was able to reach his chest really brought some nostalgia. "That's enough. Let go GIR, I have to go."
The robot complied and went back to his joyful, hyperactive self. "Please, please, bring tacos!"
Zim rolled his eyes. Some things never changed. "All right. But you must look after the house well. I don't want to come and find out you let people in."
Just as GIR cheered, an uproarious thunder boomed, soon followed by some blinding lightning. The ex-invader gave a startled leap and rushed to the nearest window, famous fear overwhelming his senses as thick droplets hit the glass and pavement so violently that it reached his hearing. He shook his head fervently. A mere rain wouldn't stop him.
"Nothing a quick bath in paste can't solve," he muttered to himself, remembering the series of complex, rewarding adjustments he had made to the pipeline in the past.
.
The tiresome detention teacher yawned for what might have been the millionth time. "4:45, guys. You're free to leave," announced the elder man with grey hair sitting on the chair, stretching his back and both arms. "And stay away from trouble, I don't want either of you here tomorrow. I'm sick of the same faces every day."
Dib picked up his notebook and shoved it into his bag along with the blue pen. He was the first in leaving the dull classroom. The group in charge of making his life impossible at school wasn't there to sit behind and intimidate by throwing written threats or poke his back and head harshly, but they had, by all odds, cooperated in finding a reason to send Dib to detention nonetheless. And as usual, he had fallen for their tricks.
It was an easy mission after all, they merely had to convince a few students in his class to accuse Dib of breaking the rules, of bothering them, or blaming him for damaging school property, like a conspiracy. Which at that point didn't surprise Dib anymore. He knew each one of his partners loathed him, hence they wouldn't waste a fresh opportunity to humiliate him. What Dib couldn't tell, however, was exactly when this group in particular wished to strike. Sometimes they would manage to get him into detention and leave it there, whereas other times they would get him into trouble, and if they weren't assigned to detention as well, the group would wait for him after school in addition.
Dib honestly couldn't think of anything else to do. He had mentioned 'fights' at the end of the school to his father, he had try a few times to tell the teachers about those bullies, but he had technically been ignored. His father believed those fights to be normal at his son's age and teachers apparently needed more proof than simple bruises and cuts. According to them, he was missing some witnesses. They just couldn't sanction the group of boys for a beating that took place outsideschool, let alone if the students denied it. The same applied to assaults inside the building; if the rest of the students that were supposed to be witnesses denied such facts, instead choosing to defend the aggressors... well, it basically resembled a long trial. His father had been wrongfully thought to be an abusive man, unaware of Gaz being the main responsible for most bruises and wounds, who simultaneously decided to plot against Dib like the rest of his partners by washing her hands and twisting facts to her convenience.
Of course that after those events, Dib had earned the reputation of a liar engaged in self-harm, Professor Membrane had got mad at him for quite a while, psychologist sessions had started, and the beatings had become worse and worse. Nice try, really.
Dib began to frighten beforehand as he walked towards the entrance. It was raining, he noticed just then, and it wasn't about a light rainfall, oh no, it was a freezing, barrelling downpour. Good, his bitter conscious mumbled. At least if he got sick, there would be an excuse for his father to skip school. Dib no longer cared about missing days. As long as he kept up with average grades, the rest didn't matter. Besides, the weather probably was on his side. Dib doubted his oppressors would actually wait for him under thick rain. Who would go that far? It would be giving much importance to his self.
His hopes went a little higher at the conclusion, so he pushed the door open and stepped under the rain. A few students chose to stay inside and wait for the downpour to calm down, whereas two others also ventured further, using their jackets as cover. The girl didn't hesitate to start running and the boy opted for hurrying through the cold drops of water. Since the latter was rushing through the same path, Dib followed him to get a sensation of company and safety, which didn't last much though, being that the boy turned at the corner and headed his own way home in the most disheartening manner ever seen. Dib bit his lip, crossed the street in a couple of strides and hastened his pace, shivering with both cold and fear, fixing his gaze only in his line of sight.
Damn.
He rushed down one block, two blocks... but there was no case. His soaked, heavy coat and pants decreased his agility and velocity, concurrently increasing his growing trepidation and making him feel even more vulnerable. Dib glanced at his sides, looked over his shoulder, but saw no one.
I'm just paranoid, it's my imagination.
His little mantra didn't help in the long term. The whole block was deserted, the only source of sound being the rain falling down and occasional thunder. Just paranoid, just paranoid, keep walking. And he did, incredibly faster, but to no avail. With each quick stride, somebody walked even faster near him. Dib could sense it, there was someone watching him, following him like his own shadow; someone intending to hurt him badly. He lost it. Dib started running at full speed, his damp shoes frantically splashing through shallow puddles, his breathing flowing in ragged gasps.
So deep in his paranoid thoughts, Dib didn't catch a glimpse of the silhouette emerging from an alleyway by his side, thus was taken aback when said silhouette tackled him onto the hood of a parked red car and his back landed awkwardly on its rigid surface with his backpack pressing in between. After a weak moan slipped past his lips, Dib blindly threw a punch at whoever was pinning him out of desperation, hitting the target square in the face, causing the person to stumble backwards.
"OH, THE PAIN!" Zim groaned pitifully, rubbing his sore cheek all over. He spat out red, and twirled around to jab a finger at the sprawled human, incensed beyond reason. "What is it with you, your relatives and punches?!"
The uproarious voice flipped a switch inside Dib. He recognized it. Panting heavily, he straightened up, still leaning on the hood of the car for support, partly ignoring the personal question. He adjusted his glasses to confirm his eyes weren't betraying him, and his jaw dropped at the clear sight.
The alien in disguise went on with his rambling, the faint traces of his wince fading away. "Someday, I'm going to make you two regret this! I swear! Be glad my weapons have been uninstalled! Otherwise, I would–" He paused, his face going blank for an instant. "Don't give me that look! Are you even listening to me? I know for sure you remember me!"
Dib kept gaping, pondering about the possibility of hallucinations being a side effect of these antidepressants in particular which his psychiatrist should change.
Zim, however, was actually surprised that he had rendered the boy speechless for once. "Well?" he insisted, hands on hips, growing impatient. "Nothing to say? Shall I introduce myself or what?"
I must be going insane. Yes, that's it. It's too late to treat my mental health.
Zim stomped the ground, splattering Dib with more water. "ANSWER ME DIB-WORM!"
The startled boy flinched and swallowed the knot in his throat. ". . .Z-Zim?"
"Finally! I was preparing my mighty fists to knock some sense into you! Why won't you answer? I need to ask you several questions right now!"
Dib didn't withdrew his wide eyes from the loud alien, but he did loosen up the unintentional grip he had on the hood of the car, fumbling for coherent words to replace those incomplete syllables threatening to tumble out and totally frozen from head to toe as thoughts were reduced to a bunch of racing doubts his mind wouldn't decode in one go. They all dismissed definitely when he finished processing the view -Zim was standing closer, growing outrageously fretful, looking overly imposing and frighteningly... taller?
Dib didn't have enough time to calculate the height difference. In the space of a heartbeat, he was pinned against the hard, wet hood once more and Zim was towering over him with a high, tight gloved fist as the alien's free hand painfully pressed down onto his chest to keep him in place. The clenched hand descended in a swift motion. Dib hissed in anticipation, squeezed his eyes shut and twisted his neck to the side, three actions that had become reflexive over the years.
Judging by the following hollow thud that only a fist meeting steel could cause, he assumed he had dodged the punch successfully, and after hearing nothing but the fading sound of the rain and their own raspy breathings as he gazed into blackness, Dib cracked one eyelid open and peeked at the attacking hand firmly resting on the red surface. Zim withdrew the fist violently without any visible trace of pain, and the boy actually gasped at the sight of the dented spot.
The first coherent thought that crossed Dib's mind said afternoon was that Zim hadn't really intended to guide that punch to his face; he had aimed the wallop incorrectly on purpose.
A grunt later though, the alien shortened the distance between them, clutched the plain green T-shirt by its collar, drew the boy closer, and slammed his body back onto the car without previous warning, causing the latter to bump his head on the steel surface beneath and eliciting a plaintive whimper. "Zim doesn't have time for this childish games anymore, Dib!" the ex-invader yelled, shoving the teen down more rudely than before. "What are you up to?! How dare you break into my base and send that vain spy?!"
Dib opened his mouth to improvise an answer of any kind, but he fell to stammering pathetically, just like any other moment under pressure. This was uncomfortable in all aspects. Couldn't this fidget of imagination at the very least remove the drenched wig? The dripping water falling on his glasses did very little to help him comprehend! "I... I don't know what you're talking about... just..." He gathered enough air. "Just release me already!"
"LIES!" Zim's clenched, free hand landed accurately on Dib's chest. He groaned at the sharp pain, his hands instinctively lashing out to pull those intruding gloved fists away, but Zim wouldn't give in that easily.
Either everything was some bizarre dream or Dib really was missing a few screws, because the puzzles just didn't fit together. There was something that didn't connect with reality, something odd hanging in the air, but whatever it was didn't hinder the leakage of curiosity. The throbbing in his chest made Dib doubt for a moment. Physical pain didn't feel this real in his common dreams or in his worst nightmares. The things Zim had said rushed to his brain altogether like a flood. Whether the situation displayed as a fantasy or not, Dib was apparently lacking information. Zim had mentioned the urgent need to ask questions, an unknown spy and... had Zim really said 'your relatives?' "I..." Nothing made sense. "I didn't even know you were here!"
"Stop lying!" The blow came harder. Any other word Dib might have wished to utter died into his mouth, coming out as a weak, choked up cough. "You were at my base! And you sent your sister to spy me!"
All right, that was too much to let slip. "What?" he wheezed, clutching the alien's hands stronger. "My sister? Seriously Zim, what's your problem? I'm aware you haven't been here for years, but do you actually think that Gaz would do me a favour? She can't even hear my heartbeat from afar without slamming my head into the nearest wall!"
"Like that large stinky head of yours deserves respect!" Zim mocked bitterly, narrowing his large eyes. He brought the boy's face closer to his. "I'll only ask this one last time, Dib. What was your sister doing in my base?"
"N-no idea, I swear..." Dib cut the sentence to hiss and squirm. "Can you just talk without pinning me to a car? The backpack is uncomfortable, my chest hurts and you're standing way too close! Let me breath!"
Zim's look narrowed further, but he grudgingly let go. At some point in their little encounter, the raging downpour had dwindled to a cooling drizzle. Heaving a sigh of relief, the human teen collected his posture, stroking his aching chest and adjusting the dripping wet glasses. His gaze remained down on the ground between them.
Zim's angry eyes returned to their normal size and he tilted his head to the side, taking a new interest in the boy's battered face. He hadn't noticed the puffiness below Dib's eyes before, nor had he paid attention to the dark bruises printed onto his pale cheeks. A picture of himself in similar circumstances crossed the ex-invader's mind and indignation soon flooded his senses for a myriad reasons. His gloved claws shot up and clutched both sides of the boy's shocked face, twisting it and moving the collar of his trench-coat to expose the reddish scratches on his neck. Ruby eyes squinted again, this time in a particular kind of glaring suspicion as he traced one of the large, fresh cuts with his rough finger.
Dib winced and shoved the eerily curious alien away once again. "Ow! That hurts, stop it!"
"You're wounded," Zim stated instantly, eyes round and wide.
The dark-haired teen pulled the black collar back to its place, covering the indisputable evidence of abuse. "No shit, really?" Had he not been mentally stunned and physically sore, Dib would have gasped for real at his own words. It had been years since he last spoke this openly, stammering so little... spitting out a curse. Leaving aside the small amount of pain, everything was cosy, in a pretty much sick way. It certainly wasn't a dream.
Although the look he was getting from Zim, on the other hand, seemed incredibly unrealistic. From mad anger, Dib could have sworn that the tall Irken had gone to a cooler feeling. Perhaps it was his imagination, but that was the closest thing to a concerned look someone had given him.
Dib shook the detail off and breathed in. "Hear me out, Zim," he began, rolling his shoulders slowly as Zim kept silent, his large ruby eyes still holding some discreet sympathy that the human was just unable to understand. "You came here to demand answers and explanations, but I honestly don't know what you were talking about. Could you at least consider the idea of you explaining, withouttackles?"
The odd stare continued, if only for a few little seconds, until Zim at last cleared his throat. "I caught your feisty little sister sneaking into my base. She said you can dispel any doubt."
"Gaz in your base? What kind of joke is that?"
"Zim may be hilarious, Dib-monkey, but this isn't a joke. Don't pretend you don't know what I'm referring to."
Dib pinched the bridge of his nose, right where the frame of his glasses rested. "Okay, okay," he soothed his bewildered self, dropping the arms at his sides. "Look, I'm not sure whether or not this is a nightmare or a dream, I have no idea about where you've been for the last years and I certainly don't know your motives for coming back. I broke into your base in search of compelling alien evidence three years ago, I admit that, but I didn't find anything useful because you unexpectedly decided to act smart for once and turned off the place's electrical power supply. Since then, I gave up and never stepped in there again. The fact that Gaz sneaked into your precious base has nothing to do with me. She loathes me, thus would die rather than helping me. If she sent you to me, like you said," he paused to let out a derisive snort, "Well, I'm afraid she only did it to get rid of you. I know you enough, Zim; you've been pestering her obviously, and Gaz can't stand that."
Zim couldn't fight the urge to stare with his suddenly cold, serious eyes. It was only after a short-lived moment before he walked up and bent forward to level their heights, successfully intimidating the boy. "You know what, Dib?" he said, harsh but low. "I don't believe you. I don't believe you at all, and I can't afford to keep wasting my time talking to you. So, I suggest you to listen carefully." He jabbed a pointed finger into Dib's chest, sick and tired of stretching their interactions. "I'm not here to conquer this ball of dirt and neither am I here to destroy it. But give me one reason, just one morereason to believe that you're spying me or trying to reveal who I really am, and I won't hesitate to burn this hideous place to ashes before leaving."
Despite his will to remain cool, the inside of Dib's clenched hands were already wet with perspiration. He glared at the alien in both disbelief and alarm, no longer interested in demonstrating the truth of his own speech, and swatted away the oppressing hand nervously. "I don't see how I can believe in yourwords. Why else would you come back here if not to bring destruction?"
A disdainful snort and a flicker of the wrist were Zim's first responses. "None of your concern. Just don't get in my way, don't bother me. Follow my instructions and nothing will happen to this hell of a planet."
"Hey!" Dib protested, rightfully affronted. "You're the one who tackled me into the hood of a car and–" an expression of vivid horror crossed the human's face. Zim watched in subtle distress how the little colour of his skin drained completely from the boy's pale cheeks, his figure and gaze quivering as he began to back off. His gaze, Zim noticed, fell somewhere between himself and the background, but he couldn't tell what was Dib exactly so scared of. When the thin human spun on his heels ready to set off running, Zim rushed to grab him by the elbow.
Being shoved in such a harsh manner was the last thing he had in mind.
"Where are you going? Come here! We aren't done yet!"
It was in vain.
Zim followed Dib with his gaze until he turned at the corner in the opposite direction. It was strange. The ex-invader could have assured, despite prior absence, that the path Dib had been walking earlier was the one leading to his house. A jab of inquisitiveness to his second brain induced Zim to look back in search of the source of terror, but he saw nothing or no one apart from an old lady with an umbrella at the other side of the street and a group of boys walking down the next block. He glanced at the car and the evident dented spot on its hood, recalling the bruises and thick scratches on his enemy's skin.
His eyes narrowed in thought. Zim couldn't care, shouldn'tcare about Dib... and yet, those wounds, the fear emanating from him... had Dib been living under similar circumstances?
Zim had managed to free himself from further physical torture, but he knew the memories would remind unbroken forever, he knew they would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't help wondering... would this also happen to his foe? Just how much harm had abuse occasioned? Since when?
Zim couldn't explain his sudden interest, but he was determined to find answers before leaving, by any means.