"Sleeper Agent"
'Chapter Eleven'
It was several Earth hours later before Zim's PAK clicked on again, returning him to full consciousness.
Physically, the time he laid recuperating allowed his body to heal from any and all wounds sustained without the interference of outside influences. Normally Irkens healed at a swift rate, much faster than humans at least, but everything went a lot faster if the body wasn't being attacked. There hadn't been many injuries sustained from his encounter with Keef, but the ones he did have were long gone, not even apparent to his system. The claw marks where he'd dug into his arms were also mended, barely leaving a hint of a scar, which would surely vanish over the next day.
But, it wasn't the physical aspects that had provoked his PAK to induce sleep.
Red eyes fluttered open, cloudy despite the lack of tears. Thoughts were roaming through his mind, as if they'd never stopped.
Keef.
Keef was alive. He wasn't human. He was something else and he wasn't dead and he—
Zim shuddered, curling up tighter, gaze glued to the door ahead of him, the sound of quiet buzzing against his antennae so loudly. Things, unspeakable to him had been committed, forced upon him without mercy. The Invader had grown up in a warring world, on a planet where winning and bloodshed were deemed as common as breath and sight; he hadn't experienced a true battle, having ruined Impending Doom I, but the training alone was excruciating enough to make up for it. They prepared him for torture, for pain and that he could gladly survive but this….
They didn't prepare for this.
The lack of physical wounds held no blessing when combined with what went through his head. His body had betrayed him, relishing in the assault when he wanted nothing to do with it. He moaned when he wanted to yell and relaxed when he wanted to run. He wanted it when all he wanted was for it to stop.
Everything was confusing.
And he hated it.
Hated that he had no power over his own body. His body, belonging to him, was not within his control.
He could be dominated, and there wouldn't even be a protest.
Zim stared at the door, feeling empty in a way that was foreign to him.
Empty—despite the rest his mind felt tired, not wanting to think.
The longer he sat there the more he felt how filthy he was; dried cum itched across his torso, tears stains dry and flaky in the corners of his eyes, the smell of old sweat and sex enveloping him in a sickening miasma that would make him retch if he didn't feel so out of sorts.
He needed a cleanse—something that would erase the visible signs of what happened to him. All he felt now was sick in his own skin, so much so that he was tempted to scratch it off, one layer at a time. He needed to get clean.
The door mocked him across the room, silent and unresponsive to the hole Zim glared into it. Leaving the room…Keef could be out there. Keef could be anywhere, everywhere now, ready to find him again. As much as Zim felt hatred towards the disguised monster, he couldn't help the twinge of fear deep in his belly. He couldn't leave, not with the possibility still there. Safety lied only within this room, as far as he knew, and any venture out would increase the risk.
A growl formed in Zim's throat and he reluctantly pushed himself off the bed, towards the door. No—he wouldn't let fright consume him. He was an Irken Elite; an Invader assigned by the Tallest themselves. He was no weak smeet to be conquered by this.
He was Zim!
He reached out to open the door, muscles tense despite his attempts. The silence of the hallway before him only edged his nerves more as he walked, slowly, eyes roving like a panicked deer around him.
He would go down the elevator to the cleansing room in Sector 3. He'd have to take the garbage chute lift to get there, so there would be a stop on the ground level for him to cross over. He'd be fast, alert—nothing was going to catch him off guard again.
With a tentative last glance the Irken entered the chute, watching the doors slide shut as the hum of the elevator soon followed, taking him downward. It was a short ride to the next floor, though the moment dragged on forever before the lift doors opened again, revealing the kitchen and beyond that, the living room.
Dib had spent the past few hours just sitting in the kitchen. He was hunched over the table, his chin resting on his folded arms as he stared in the direction of the living room. No activity had yet been seen, nothing to spark his suspicion and so he continued to just blankly stare.
His mind had been mulling over everything that happened. Words and images blurred together in his mind's eye and they were almost too much for him to handle. He groaned in the back of his throat, trying to will his mind to stop thinking but it never listened.
He thought maybe he should go upstairs and check on Zim but reluctantly made himself focus on guarding downstairs.
Dib still wasn't sure if Zim was in his right mind. He thought maybe if the Irken did go upstairs and sleep he'd come down eventually feeling relatively normal. Or, that's what he hoped anyway.
A low humming hit his ears and it took him a moment to understand what it was before he recognized it as the elevator. Dib perked to attention, turning in his chair to face the fridge, his heart beating in anticipation as well as a bit of fear.
What if Zim was just as crazy as he was downstairs?
Dib's muscles tensed but he tried to appear normal, tried to seem as disarming as possible when the fridge door opened and revealed the still naked and very much fearful looking Zim.
Dib thought against talking; swallowing the lump in his throat and waiting for Zim to make the first move.
The first thing in Zim's line of sight was Dib, sitting at the kitchen table. The Invader's heart stopped for a second, the extra presence instantly provoking fear. But his mind registered the dark hair and glasses and obviously DIB-like figure, and the fear was quelled, though not completely.
He tensed, body shifting instinctually into a fight position and he stayed inside the elevator. Zim recalled that Dib had been downstairs with him, after the Keef incident, but the details weren't immediately clear as his PAK partially obscured the memories of what it thought caused the shock, so as not to let him lapse there again. Antennae flattened back as his eyes narrowed, watching Dib intently.
"What," He hissed, tone low and cautious, "are YOU doing here, Dib-filth?" He didn't move from the lift, which thankfully remained where it was with the doors open, anticipating its master's leave. "You are not supposed to be in Zim's base."
Dib let out the breath he was holding, grateful Zim could form sentences and he wasn't speaking in that foreign language again. "I didn't want to leave you alone," Dib said easily, since that was really his only purpose for staying. He was about to say Keef might come back, but didn't know if he should really talk about that right now. Dib righted his posture, "I'm not leaving." He said as if anticipating Zim's yells for him to get out of the base. It seemed Zim was at a more level state so Dib chose to gamble a little with the alien's mood being stable.
The first sentence made Zim's squeedily-spooch clench. The Dib, he'd seen what happened down in the lab, what Keef did to him. Humiliation mixed with panic, swelling up gradually—how much had he seen? His arch enemy, witnessing him so weak, taken over by another being. By KEEF. The noxious mix of emotions at the thought appeared as growing fury in his expression, and the second statement, so resolute, only made his enmity worse.
"Yes you are!" The Irken countered, irritation visible in his voice. His hands were clenched into fists at his side. "Zim does not want you here! Leave now. Leave Zim!"
Dib got up from his seat in the kitchen, one hand on the back of the chair still, the other limp at his side as he surveyed the irritated alien. "I'm not the enemy here Zim," Dib murmured softly, hoping to push some of that anger off himself, "Keef is." He said the monster's name though quickly continued, "I'm not leaving until he's dead. He might come back." He let the statement hang in the air a moment before he finally pushed his chair in and took a few steps towards the living room.
He turned, not really wanting to turn his back on Zim in case he went into another rage and attacked, "I'll stay out here, alright?" He didn't wait for an answer as he trailed his way into the living room, hoping if he gave Zim space the Irken might relent enough to let him stay in the house without anymore of a fight.
Zim watched Dib head into the living room, a biting retort on the tip of his tongue but he felt strangely reluctant to verbalize it. The mention of Keef drew out a growl, if only to cover up the shudder that passed through him. Red eyes were glued to the retreating human, still sounding defiant, and Zim wanted to scream at him to get out, so he could feel control again when there didn't seem to be a shred left. But instead he merely observed, still tense against the back of the elevator. As much as the majority of him clamored to have Dib removed, a small part felt hesitant to do so.
It was true—Keef could return at any time, without warning. Uneasiness tugged inside Zim at the thought. He didn't want to be left off guard again, to be attacked. The Dib had prevented Keef from fulfilling his previous intent. Somewhere down inside Zim clung to that notion, a life-line in the dark. He didn't want Dib to leave. His pride, his ego was screeching like a wounded creature against it, but his fear cut past their whines and struck him deep.
He didn't want to be alone. Not until he was sure Keef was dead.
Slowly Zim peeled himself from the wall, stalking over to the garbage can chute. His eyes never left Dib, disquiet quite present in his crimson slits. He paused right in front of the trash bin, staring at the human before turning around and placing his foot in the opening.
"You will leave once he is," He muttered. "Do not follow Zim." With that he brought his other foot up and disappeared down the chute, leaving Dib to himself again.
Dib had sat down on the couch when he heard Zim speak, glancing in the direction of the kitchen and catching sight of the slitted red orbs and the scowl on his face. Dib looked back to the TV once Zim disappeared down the trash can.
He leaned back against the sofa, rigid in his stance to keep alert, trying to listen for anything unusual over the mindless program on TV. Absently he scooped up the hyper robot and set him on his lap if only to ground himself to the present.
The whole situation was so out there.
Keef was an alien.
Keef had raped Zim.
Keef definitely was up to something, had to be, since what he said last night couldn't have just been something casual.
Dib knew something was up, something big was looming overhead.
He let out a sigh, knowing there was probably no real safe place from a creature that could turn into ooze and slip between cracks in walls. But…well, he just had to hope that he and Zim together could fell Keef or at least gain some upper hand in finding out his real motives.
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A/N:
This chapter is short, but the next few ones are long. I also don't like having too many scene changes in one chapter so I just decided this will be a mild transition to the next one. We appreciate all the lovely reviews so far, and we'd love to hear more feedback to how you guys' feel the story is going.