AND YOU THOUGHT CHAPTER NINE WAS LONG!
Ha, I sure fooled you.
And wow, I sure took freakin' forever to update this thing. I place the blame entirely on...my mom, cuz I blame her for everything. Especially rising gas prices. GAWD, MOM!
As for the issue of Zim's physical strength and his flipping over a fat lady, I chalk that up to the effects of adrenaline brought about by his being recognized as an alien. I also chalk the issue up to my forgetting things. And also because of my mom. Seriously, Mom. You're pissing me off.
Chapter Eleven – In which awkwardness is avoided
"If you'd been any slower, that would've been us," Zim was clear to state – behind them, just a few blocks away, ink-black smoke streamed into the air. The vehicles in the shipping area had fallen prey to the flames in a most impressive manner – the entire back end of the store had gone up in an immense fireball; even from their distance, the two had still felt the wave of heat and the tremors beneath their feet (the Irken would never admit that he'd tripped and fallen flat on his face), though they were fortunate to have ventured far enough to avoid the debris sent raining down around the area.
The utter noise of the blast had set the baby off crying again, however, and thus, Dib didn't bother responding to the alien's complaints – even a good ten minutes after the near-deafening sound, he still hadn't managed to calm her down, and no amount of rocking and cooing seemed to remedy the problem. Zim, unsurprisingly, didn't bother to offer any help – he only scowled at the infant and edged farther away to a less painful distance, leaving a good ten feet of space between himself and the humans.
The teen cast a weary glance to his companion from his spot on an upturned and empty garbage can – they'd taken refuge for the moment in a small alley, wedged between two equally small and empty houses, in order to get in a little bit of rest. The Irken, of course, refused to sit on anything in a 'filthy human alley', and thus simply stood around looking extremely grumpy, arms crossed and antennae flattened in displeasure. "I have no idea what to do with her," Dib admitted. "I don't think she needs a diaper change, so…uh…do you think she's hungry or something?"
"Why are you asking me?" Zim exclaimed, meeting the weary glance with a look of complete disbelief. "Yes, Zim is incredible and all, but there are some things I simply will not waste my genius on – caring for stinky hyuuman smeets is definitely one of those things."
"Oh, come on, Zim! I know you tried using orphans to take over Earth once, and you spent like…three weeks in the program to do it – remember? Simon Says? That stupid plan – the one I foiled in all of ten minutes?"
The Irken glanced up, tongue poking out. He did seem to remember something along those lines, though in his mind, it had been some kind of great success. Making his rival clean up mounds upon mounds of Earth-larvae dookie? Mmmyep – that had to be success. Very smelly success. "Ah, yes. That. …The bee suits were rather nice."
Dib started to give a sour retort, then paused unsurely when he realized that Zim's reply hadn't been an insult – he'd been expecting one, really. "…Oh, yeah; they were nice, weren't they?" he agreed, albeit hesitantly, and with a decent helping of confusion evident in his tone.
There was a length of silence, in which they both considered those bee suits and how nice they'd really been – all fuzzy and warm, and kind of adorable when worn by an elementary school child or an alien of elementary school child size. (Either one clearly remembered the other looking simply ridiculous, however.)
Then, the baby's cries and flails escalated to where she was basically just screaming endlessly (one wondered exactly how she drew breath) and whacking Dib repeatedly in the chest (and sometimes the face), and the teen lifted her towards the Irken helplessly. "So…what do you think? Hungry, needing diaper change, what?"
Recoiling away from the fussy child, Zim glared at her for a moment before directing a thoroughly exasperated look at his companion. "Scared, more likely. Any smeet would be, if they had to look at your enormous head for so long," the Irken stated mildly.
"Zim, I'm trying to be serious!" Dib spat, bouncing the infant lightly in a laughable mockery of what he'd seen mothers do – it only added what would have been an amusing warble to the baby's cry if said cry hadn't been as ear-piercing as it was.
"You think Zim wasn't being serious?" the Irken responded, blinking owlishly and trying to appear surprised. When the human only glared at him, already quite irritated that his attempt at calming a baby (something he'd always thought to be a simple matter) was failing miserably, Zim gave a little shrug. "She's probably tired. From what I can gather of your human habits, movement isn't entirely conducive to sleep, and we've been doing a lot of moving."
There was another length of silence, in which Dib stared at his companion in a mix of outright shock and disbelief.
Zim stared back, somewhat unnerved, before prompting sharply, "What?"
"That's probably the most sense I've ever heard you say in a single sentence," the teen responded hesitantly. "…You are Zim, right?"
"Of course I am ZIM!" Zim snapped in the most Zim-like fashion he could (he was Zim, after all).
Dib raised an eyebrow, then replied dully, "Well, I guess that settles that." The Irken quirked an antenna, but didn't say anything more, only watched him quizzically before huffing and turning to glare at some random object on the ground as though it had personally offended him. Now that his companion was silent, Dib lowered his gaze to the crying infant in his arms, his mind wandering. He'd saved the child, sure, but it probably hadn't done much good in the end – how was he supposed to take care of her when he had little to no idea what he was doing?
Then, another stray thought got him wondering. Wasn't there someone else he was supposed to have saved, too? Aside from…everyone else, that is. The teen's brows furrowed for a moment before his eyes widened and he turned sharply to Zim. "GAZ!"
The Irken glanced back to him, frowning. "What about her?"
"I can't believe I forgot – I… Wow, I'm stupid!" Dib exclaimed (ignoring Zim's automatic nod of agreement at the last part of his statement) before getting up, all in a hurry. "Knowing her, she probably left me behind when I was taking too long shopping – bet she showed some of those aliens a thing or two." He managed a chuckle, though it sounded somewhat forced. "She's probably at home, I have to-"
"No."
The teen trailed off, unsure for just a moment. "No?" he echoed indignantly. "What do you mean, no?"
Zim watched him for a moment before shrugging lightly with an unconcerned noise. "She won't be there. So…no. We should find shelter, get the dirt-smeet to a place where she can sleep and be silent so we won't be discovered."
"Why wouldn't Gaz be at home?!" Dib snapped, not liking the vague reply.
The Irken scowled at him. "Well, it should be obvious, but then again, you've always been exceptionally stupid. Does Zim really have to spell it out?"
"Shut up! Do you really think I'm going to fall for this? Honestly, Zim – she's Gaz, a full-scale alien invasion would only be a minor inconvenience to her!" the teen spat, storming past him – the infant in his arms squirmed wildly, further frightened by the sudden movement and harsh tones. "If you're trying to be funny, find something else to joke about, jerk. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go find my sister."
A few quick strides and Zim had snatched the collar of Dib's trenchcoat, yanking him back into the alley and shoving him roughly down on his initial resting spot – the garbage can almost tipped over at the treatment. "NO," the Irken reiterated sharply, leaning into the other's face and giving his very best death-glare. "ZIM does not make jokes." He paused, glanced skyward for a moment, then corrected himself. "In this situation. In other situations, Zim is a master of comedy. Yes. But I assure you, Dib-thing, right now I am not, as you said, 'trying to be funny', and I am most definitely not joking."
Silence met his statement, Dib staring up at him helplessly as he struggled to convey thought into words, arms tightening around the crying infant as though she were a lifeline. "You…you're lying. Gaz wouldn't…she's… She's…Gaz. She can't be gone!"
"Gaz or not, she was still a smelly human, and no amount of creepy abilities can make up for that," Zim responded, looking rather exasperated that he needed to convey such an obvious fact. "Deny it all you want, Dib-smell, but the truth of the matter's been burned into my PAK's data drives. Don't make me have to show it – I will if you won't be silent!"
The warning had Dib gaping at the alien, shocked. Questions raced through his mind, though only a certain few stood out amongst the others – had Zim really found her? Would he lie about something like that? Could his PAK fake such an image, if he did show it? Would he show it?
It was the last thought that silenced the others – the Irken would, if he had to. There wasn't a doubt in his mind. And whether or not the image would be real, Dib didn't want to see it; regardless of how badly he and his sister got along – used to get along? – she was still his sister; he didn't know if he could handle something like that. "…Don't," he muttered, averting his eyes, as though the other would bring the image out at any given time.
"Your sibling-unit will not be at home," Zim repeated firmly, straightening and crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, okay…I get it. …So she really is…gone, then." The only reply was a single small, affirmative noise. The teen stared down at the baby, expression lost, before he glanced back up at his companion – the alien seemed completely unfazed, and was simply examining him, a curious lift to his antennae. Zim was expecting a reaction; some sign of weakness, something to mock, perhaps. Dib bit at his lip, forcing back grief and tears – he refused to give the other the satisfaction of watching him break down – and simply mumbled lowly, "I see."
Antennae perked further, and the Irken was silent for a moment before humming lightly – somewhat disappointed, yet at the same time, grudgingly respectful. The loss of a littermate was a heavy one indeed, yet the boy stayed strong, just as he'd expected. A quiet mutter came from his companion, a barely-heard question regarding his father, and all Zim could do at first was shrug; the Professor was a different matter altogether – he saw the man even less than Dib himself, and he certainly hadn't seen his body anywhere on the supermarket tiles. "Your parental unit most likely shared a similar fate. Perhaps, that is. If nothing else, you can assume he got lucky – hope does nothing for a superior Irken such as myself, but it seems to be good for you hyuumans."
There was no reply from Dib, no assurance that he'd even been listening beyond the first sentence – the sentence he hadn't wanted to hear – which only had the Irken feeling less and less in his element. Survival training back in the Academy had certainly never been like this; there'd been far fewer aliens and their emotional luggage-bags to drag along. And sure, learning to stay alive while still blowing stuff up was all very well and good, but survival was a basic instinct to begin with – why didn't they cover the actually useful stuff?!
The near-silence bearing down on them, full of an odd discomforting feeling Zim was far from used to, only made it that much worse – what was he supposed to do about this?
Finally, after a good deal of deliberation, he edged back against the wall next to Dib, PAK to the brick behind him, and patted the boy's shoulder in what might have been a comforting gesture – he withdrew his hand quickly, however, as though burned. "Hero complex or not, you can't save everyone," Zim stated with another little shrug.
Dib only gave a noncommittal grunt in reply, not trusting himself to speak. His gaze returned to the infant, who seemed to have cried herself out now that the excessive motions and angry voices had ceased – she gave a feeble warble here and there, however, and squirmed restlessly. The teen wiped the streaks of tears off of her small face with one corner of her blanket, distracting himself from his thoughts and trying to ignore the Irken hovering nearby.
Wide dark eyes stared back up at him, and the infant hiccuped, tiny hands clutching for the teen's much larger one. He managed a slight upturn of his mouth, a makeshift smile, and let her do as she pleased – from his right, Zim gave a disgusted noise when the baby apparently figured that Dib's knuckles might be a nice tasty snack to suck on.
"She's revolting," the Irken decided.
"She's cute. I like her," Dib grumbled, too exhausted – both mentally and physically – to bother snapping at the Irken, and not wanting to upset the child anyway.
Zim leaned in close once again, scrutinizing the infant for a moment. "She's not a furry little creature like the Peepi-monster was. How is she 'cute' if she has only the usual amount of human fur?" The Irken poked one claw at her thin, feathery black hair, curling one lock around the finger curiously before drawing his hand back, scowling in the way he often did when he didn't understand something.
The teen gave him a bland look. "Fur doesn't automatically mean something's cute," he informed the alien wearily.
"Her coloring is strange, too." An ironic comment, indeed.
"She's just tan – probably of Filipino descent," Dib sighed. "If she were…oh, I don't know…green, then I'd have to agree with you." Zim frowned, and was obviously about to snap something when the human cut in swiftly, "So, how about that shelter idea?"
Zim blinked, straightened up, and looked around for a moment before glancing back to Dib, one antenna quirked. "Pick a house, any house," he replied with a lopsided grin, waving a hand about to the surrounding buildings. "Preferably one that looks like it won't crumble to pieces while we rest."
Moments later, a house had been chosen and a window smashed, and once again, the baby started fussing. And so, the very first thing Dib did when they snuck inside was collapse on the couch, giving an exhausted groan as the infant wriggled and cried on his lap. "What am I gonna do with you?" he sighed, staring down at her uncertainly.
The Irken glanced up at him, one brow ridge raising slightly at the teen's useless questioning of a larva that couldn't yet answer, from his spot on a nearby armchair (which he'd meticulously glared at for a good while until he'd decided it was both sanitary and comfortable enough for his tastes). The seat completely dwarfed the alien, Dib might've been amused to note had he not been preoccupied with a baby who seemed to be making it her very first priority to be as difficult as infantly possible.
"There's no way any of us will get rest if she keeps going on like this…" Dib ran one hand through his hair, grimacing when it snagged at a few tangles, and looked up to meet his companion's gaze. "Mothers made it look so easy, I swear."
Zim only gave a little scoff in reply before seeming to consider something – whatever it was, the disgruntled look on his face suggested it wasn't something he thought to be entirely pleasant. Then, he outstretched both hands, claw-like fingers wiggling a bit. "Let Zim try," he demanded then.
The teen's eyes widened to an almost impossible size, and he only gaped for a few moments before exclaiming, "No way! You'll just drop her!"
"Oh, Zim will not! She's not doing any better with your pathetic attempts, anyway – she clearly requires superior Irken coddling-techniques!"
Dib, a tad unnerved, pulled the infant against his chest defensively. "Do Irkens even have coddling techniques?" he asked hesitantly.
The Irken tilted his head a bit, silent for a moment before shrugging. "Mmm…no. Er… Well… Not yet! But such coddling techniques the amazing ZIM shall invent! YES!" He leapt to his feet, the armchair beneath him squeaking lightly as he wobbled off-balance. As soon as he stabilized himself, Zim thrust one hand up dramatically, a finger pointed towards the ceiling. "They will be the most incredible coddling techniques ever! And soon, no Earthen baby will be able to resist the almighty ZIM-coddles, and the planet will fall with the help of their own smelly offspring – it's ingenious!" the alien shrieked gleefully.
"Uh…" Dib raised an eyebrow, unsure if the other was joking or not. "…In case you hadn't noticed, the Earth has kinda…already been taken over. ...Just so you know."
Antennae perked up sharply before flattening low in a defiant gesture, Zim glaring metaphorical daggers. The boy's unimpressed look at the show had him sinking back down into the armchair, seeming to be more of a sulky child than a trained invader. After a while of just scowling at the human across from him, Zim outstretched his hands again. "Give to Zim," he insisted moodily.
The teen glanced from the Irken to the baby in his arms, then back to the Irken. "You won't drop her?"
"No," Zim spat, antennae flattening further in aggravation as he wiggled his fingers expectantly. "Give." Dib directed a flat look at him and didn't reply, much less move, so the Irken took it in himself to stalk over, plop down next to him, and reach for the child – only to receive a good swatting to the backs of his hands. Stunned, he jerked them away, eyes wide as he stared up at the teen incredulously. That had hurt!
Before Zim had the presence of mind to say or do something horrible, Dib sighed. "Fine. You can hold her, okay? Just…be careful. Promise?"
Getting what he wanted distracted the Irken from the sting in his hands, and he nodded emphatically – he gave a wince when his arms were subsequently filled with a surprisingly weighty infant, and only barely managed to not drop her when Dib corrected his grip and actually touched him to help him do so. Such inferiority on his amazing self!
"No, no – move your other arm under her, and make sure her head is supported," Dib instructed, Zim only complying so the teen would let go of him. "All right, seems good…"
"She's very squirmy. And…drooly," the Irken muttered, frowning down at the child, who had ceased bawling if only to stare up at the strange new face, fascinated. How green it was!
Dib rolled his eyes at the comment before leaning back, trying to find a more comfortable position. "Mmhmm. Now, how about you make with the 'superior Irken coddling' so we can all get some rest?"
"She stopped crying," Zim huffed, looking somewhat pleased with himself at the accomplishment. "That should be enough, yes?"
"Uh…sure, if you ignore the fact that she's still awake and could start crying again at any moment," Dib replied disdainfully – the Irken probably would've shoved him for the tone he was using at any other time.
"So she needs to be asleep, then. …Aren't humans supposed to sleep in beds or something?"
"Humans can sleep pretty much anywhere, Zim," Dib responded, not at all surprised that the other hadn't already known this.
The Irken gave a little hum in reply, something that had the teen wondering if he was even listening. "I see. But…if there is a bed here, then you and the larva could sleep in it, yes?"
"I am not going to sleep in someone else's bed. That's just weird."
"I don't think they'd mind," Zim stated, the hand that wasn't supporting the infant poking lightly at her forehead – her eyes went somewhat cross-eyed at the action as she tried to focus on the gloved finger. "They're dead anyway, right?"
"And that's another reason I'm not going to sleep in their bed," Dib replied flatly. "It's called 'respect', Zim. I'm staying on the couch." To emphasize this point, he shifted to a more comfortable position, leaning his head against the armrest and closing his eyes. "Try to get the baby to sleep, will you?"
Zim shrugged a bit – a rather useless gesture, considering. "How?"
"Huh? …Oh, uh… I dunno, just…rock her a little, hum something, make her comfortable… That kind of stuff, I guess," the teen mumbled.
Not entirely helpful, the Irken noted sourly, though he didn't bother mentioning it – if Dib was trying to sleep, that meant he'd finally be quiet, and Zim wasn't about to pass up an opportunity like that by being a smartass. Thus, he stared down at the baby, brows furrowed as he considered the 'advice' the boy had given him. She seemed comfortable enough, yet here she was, meeting his gaze blankly and drooling away to beat the band. He knew enough about humans (that is, a lot…or more accurately, everything) to know that that definitely didn't qualify as sleeping.
Deciding to simply combine the bits of advice into a single incredible sleep-inducer (and prove just how amazing he was at everything), the Irken gently swayed the child in a mimicry of what he'd seen Dib do earlier, humming a lighthearted melody he'd heard various times from human broadcasting as he did – it wasn't an altogether pretty sound, but it didn't grate on the ears either, and he could at least carry a tune. All in all, it was…vaguely soothing.
The infant watched him silently, eyelids drooping somewhat – she was already exhausted from the day's events, and despite the fact that the strange twitchy black things on the green stranger's head were just begging to be pulled on, she slowly began to drift off.
Nearby, Dib gave a light murmur at the sound and curled up a bit, finding himself oddly calmed. "S'good, Z'm…" he managed to mumble.
Zim quirked an antenna at what had almost sounded like complete and utter gibberish, but was quick to forget about it – the baby was just about asleep, and the lack of energy was starting to take its toll on him, too. He might as well get a bit of rest in, he concluded as he softly crooned a few more lines.
As your bright and tiny spark – lights the traveler in the dark – though I know not what you are – twinkle, twinkle, little star…
It was a rather silly song, he decided.
Strong fingers curled around his trenchcoat collar, yanking him close – Dib grimaced at the stench of breath from rotting lungs, tried uselessly to pull the other's hands away. "You left me behind," it hissed, eyes dark and empty.
"I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"
Dark liquid dripped from rancid flesh, and what was once his sister screeched in his face, teeth razor-sharp and hellfire seeming to burst from her very person. "YOU LEFT ME! TO SAVE YOUR OWN SORRY HIDE!" Shuddering, Dib was silent, nausea settling in the pit of his stomach as the creature before him twisted its gaping mouth into what might've been a grin. "I hope you die. If you do…I'll be waiting for you. You'll pay, Dib."
"Please, I…I didn't… I wanted to help you!" Dib tried, struggling to get her to see reason – he had no idea why. She'd never bothered to see reason before. Why would she have to start now? She was dead – she had no use for such petty things as reason anymore.
The thing screamed wordlessly at him, throwing him down to a ground of nothingness as flesh slid away from bone, demonic flames licking at what was left – (admittedly, the last bit might have been more frightening if he hadn't already seen her do it a thousand times) – before a sudden bang had the image fading and the teen rudely forced back into the waking world.
Dib grumbled sleepily as he cracked open one eye and stared across the room – a tiny cat, coat scraggy and messed with dirt, stared back at him innocently, perched on a shelf above the armchair the Irken had abandoned earlier. It had apparently jumped up and knocked off what knick-knacks had been set there. "Go on, shoo," he muttered, waving an arm in a bid to scare the creature off – he realized suddenly that the other arm seemed to be occupied.
Or rather, being slept on.
"…Oh, geez," Dib groaned, fighting back the urge to just shove the Irken off. Zim had apparently fallen asleep some time after him, and had slipped from his earlier sitting position to end up nestled against the teen's side, infant still curled comfortably in his arms. It was something the alien would have certainly ranted and complained about had he woken up first.
Better avoid that – it would make things much more simple.
It took some doing to get the Irken off of him without waking him up, but he managed, still feeling incredibly discomfited at the fact that his rival had been practically cuddled up against him while they slept. He could already feel goosebumps on the side Zim had been sleeping on.
He also distinctly felt a wet spot, and gave a disgusted sound. Alien spit. Gross.
After frowning down at the sleeping alien for a moment, Dib sighed harshly and shook his shoulder. "Hey. Hey, Zim." The Irken gave a little whine, but didn't wake up, only curled closer to the baby. Rolling his eyes, the teen shook him again, a bit more forceful - he ignored the low growl from the other. "Zim, wake up!"
Dib barely managed to dodge the resulting fist swung at him by a grumpy alien – clearly, Zim was not a morning person.
I bet the imagery of Zim accidentally cuddling up to his worst enemy while they're both asleep made some fangirls scream 'kawaii' in an extremely obnoxious fashion. Or it just made them vomit. Either works, really. ...Actually, to be honest, I'd prefer the second option. HERE'S TO YOU, WAPANESE-SPEAKERS! (Insert le middle finger here.)
...Anyway...moving on.
I'd imagine that Zim would be a vaguely decent singer, if only in terms of being able to carry a tune - he's hummed a bit in the show, so...yeah. Also, I stand by my previously unmentioned thought that Irkens can sleep, but will generally only do so when low on energy (and perhaps when extremely bored). Certainly after all the insanity of the past chapters with little to no rest in between, Zim's running pretty low. (We should all know Irkens can sleep anyway - intro to the original pilot, anyone? ...Oh right, only super-obsessed nerds watched that. Meaning all of about...ten people.)
I have a strange feeling that chapters will continue to get longer, to the point of where they put Long-Cat to shame.
...Except for the next chapter. ...That one feels like it's going to be short. Shorter than the average Irken, or perhaps a midget. Or maybe a dwarf! Or a hobbit, even! (Okay, I admit it, I actually don't know if a hobbit is shorter than a dwarf or not. I'm not that much of a nerd yet. I do, however, know that the meaning of life is 42. Sorry, guys.)
But...yeah. Long chapters, except for the next one.
STRANGE, ISN'T IT?!
I have no idea when the next chapter will be up, though. ...Probably in about a week.
...I have this...strange feeling.
I should probably go see a doctor.
