"Sleeper Agent"

'Chapter Twenty-Five'

"Nnh… ah…"

Burning.

Everything burning.

Zim stumbled as he walked past the tents, no longer crouched over the wet dirt where Dib once was. His boots splashed in the filthy water, caked now with mud that was tinted red by Dib's ever-flowing wounds.

The Irken's fingers curled stiffly, and then the hands balled into shaky fists in front of him. He had some control again. Not enough to be safe, but it was be enough to move his legs. His face scrunched tight in pain.

He needed to get out of the rain.

He had to, before his body completely disintegrated, drenched in earth acid.

It was like fire. Consuming his flesh. Stinging his brain. Ripping choked sobs as Zim held back the screams that wanted to come out instead. But he had to keep going. If he didn't, he was going to die. He had to get back to his base and find a way to sto—

"Ngh…!" Zim staggered forward, arms barely coming out in time to stop his fall as his legs suddenly gave out mid-step. The invader gritted his teeth, shaking with the effort to reassert control over his lower body. Keef's program was still running rampant through his system, trying to pry his conscience loose and take over again.

How Zim had gotten any sort of hold on himself in the first place was beyond him. He'd been fighting so hard through all of it to break free to no avail, and then all of a sudden…

And then all of a sudden Dib had been about to die.

Zim grimaced, letting out a shaky breath. "Y-You think you c-can—ah…c-control the almighty ZIM…?" He growled, hands clawing into the mud beneath him as he tried to get back up. "You…nnh… know nothing…ggh—Z-Zim is slave t-t… to no one…"

His voice trailed off, lost in the hiss of rain as it battered the tents around him, drowning the world in its low drone. He couldn't hear any other noise beyond it. No footsteps or groans or anything to indicate that the Dib was still nearby.

Maybe he managed to get away.

Zim was too overwhelmed to be angry at the worm-baby's abandonment of him. All he could manage was a sad sort of satisfaction.

Dib's fate would remain his for a little while longer. Maybe only a little. But it was more than before.

Zim's lips curled into a cruel, humorless smile. "H-Heh…Y-Y…You can't have him," he spat, voice barely audible to his own antennae. "Do you h-hear me…? The…human is mine…my enemy…t-to kill…when I want to…you c-can't tell Zim what to—aah— d…do…."

He whispered the last word, barely able to speak anymore. The energy it took to open his mouth was almost all he had, and he couldn't concentrate. Fire. Everything felt like fire. His body being eaten away until there would be only his PAK left. And all the while the virus was pushing on the edge of his mind, snatching away from him what it could, slipping in between and cracking his resolve, a tight aching pressure in his head to block him out, taking each part of him one at a time…

Without warning Zim felt his legs tense beneath him, shifting into a kneeling position before pushing the Irken off of the ground, beginning to take a step forward. Eyes widened in horror as the virus regained ground over his functions, his lower body no longer available to him. "N-no…!" Zim gave a feeble yell, moving his hands to try and stop his legs—only to have his arms relax slowly to his sides, also out of his control.

He couldn't stop it.

His mind was too tired to keep holding on—with one final wave of power he was slammed into the back of his consciousness, Keef's program taking full reign; overwhelming his senses like a flood. Zim stared out through his eyes again, feeling his facial muscles relax as false indigo orbs seemed to drift over the expanse of mud and water, finding the diluted trail of human blood scattered in the filth. His legs began walking in that direction, vapors still pouring off of him in a cloud.

Zim didn't need to understand the virus to know where it intended to go.

But he couldn't even scream anymore. Inside himself was silence, tired, strained silence, and with bitter reluctance to concede he pushed with all his might. But it wasn't going to work.

He didn't have the strength this time. He felt dizzy from all the pain that the virus evidently couldn't interpret—dizzy as patches of skin began to fester and bleed, violet blood sizzling atop his burnt flesh. But none of that slowed down Zim's body as he deciphered Dib's escape, leading him to one of the faded tents.

'You can't… have him…' Zim whispered, not even aware if he was speaking anymore—hardly able to hear himself over the harsh thumps of his heart's quickening pace. 'You… you can't—he's… Zim's, he's….'

Zim's arm reached out to lift the flap of the tent aside, eyes searching—

'… mine…'

— and spider legs extending out again, PAK whirling as they spread out behind him, just as he entered the dim enclosure.

'… h-he's mine…'

Dib had been trying to prepare himself but he felt himself close to losing consciousness. He forced his eyes open but his eyelids felt so heavy and his vision was fuzzy on the edges yet his glasses weren't damaged.

That wasn't a good sign.

Dib had forced all his thoughts on Zim; mulling over what exactly he was going to do when the Irken came back. That fragile hope that Zim might be normal again had been shoved aside if only due to the immense fatigue he was feeling and his inability to delude himself anymore.

He wanted to help Zim.

That was his new goal.

If he had a chance to do anything that might drag him back to normal, he would do it. He had to do it. That was all he could do; knowing his body was close to giving out on him.

Dib's body shivered from the unwanted cold, staring hard at the opening of the tent and just waiting. He heard the excessive drops of rain on the vinyl structure of the tent, the monotonous drizzle almost subduing him; he wanted so badly to just close his eyes.

"Nnn…no, c-can't…" Dib managed to utter, trying to focus on his own voice so he wouldn't give into that tempting embrace of sleep.

It was then he heard the movements outside grow louder; the steps more deliberate and also accompanied by that steady hissing sound that could only be one thing.

Dib righted his spine, sitting up straighter but not able to force himself to stand; instead remaining against the back of the tent. His amber eyes found home on Zim the moment he rounded into his vision and his breath caught.

The Irken was covered in burns; his flesh an off-green color and still sizzling. Dib had felt concern, almost wanting to call to Zim, wondering if he was in control of himself or not – but one glimpse at those dull blue eyes gave him his answer.

His Zim was gone again.

Dib stared at that emotionless face as he heard the Pak limbs expel, hearing that thick squishing sound as they rooted themselves in the ground as they propelled the alien towards him.

That biting fear ran up his spine; adrenaline causing his heart to beat faster and he finally grit against the pain to get himself standing, heavily grasping at the tent as he yanked himself up. Dib grunted with effort as he tried to get ready for an assault, bracing himself against the tent in hopes that once the Irken charged he might be able to dodge out of the way.

Zim's cobalt gaze found Dib's immediately, locking onto the human as he got to his feet, easily visible even in the dimness within the abandoned tent.

He was still here.

He hadn't been able to get away.

'Dib…'

Zim's chest clenched at the sight of the worm-baby, taking in the blood, catching how the boy could barely bring himself to standing. He hadn't taken the chance to escape, and now, that chance was gone.

'… Run…'

PAK limbs pierced the dirt as they lifted the alien over the ground, dangling like a fly in a spider's web.

And then he shot forward.

Like a blur Zim darted towards the human, spider legs skittering effortless across the small expanse of floor in a flurry of glinting metal and the rattling battery of steel tips puncturing the dirt. Within a few feet of Dib they pushed off the ground, propelling Zim up and over the teen's head. The sharp PAK limbs extended straight out, ready to impale Dib to the floor as the alien descended from his leap.

Dib could barely keep up with Zim's movements; aware of the Irken's charge and in that moment he had attempted to push away from the back of the tent, trying to move forward when instead Zim had changed his tactic and leapt into the air.

Dib stumbled due to his weakened leg, a panicked sound falling past his lips as he fell sideways – bracing himself to hit the dirt when instead a new sharp pain swept all thought from his mind.

The way his body managed its fall caused him to avoid most the stabbing legs; except one, and that one had embedded all the way through his side, pinning him to the ground he had fallen upon.

Dib squirmed, choked sounds emitting as he clawed helplessly at the dirt; fisting his fingers into the ground trying fruitlessly to move himself somewhere. His pained eyes looked up to the Irken's stoic expression; searching that burned face for any sign of cognition but finding nothing beyond that cold stare.

Dib's fast rapid breaths were taking up the rest of his energy, feeling himself almost convulsing from the pain. Everything was becoming too much; he wanted so desperately to just give in, but he wouldn't let himself.

He forced himself to remain conscious, fighting with everything he had to keep his mind stable. He had to help Zim.

Dib was unable to form words; barely able to keep breathing – that spider limb having stabbed straight through his ribs, puncturing his lung.

He knew the end was coming on fast.

There wasn't enough time to second guess his decisions; knowing he had only one option left.

He wasn't getting up off this ground; he wouldn't be able to run even if he managed to somehow dislodge the Irken. Zim would continue to come after him, the alien under Keef's control somehow and knowing that after this battle the bastard would use the Irken further.

If Dib knew Zim at all he knew that the alien was going crazy with his lack of control. He knew Zim didn't want to be used by Keef; he knew that Zim didn't want any of this to be happening.

Dib could offer him freedom, could save him; even if that would mean he'd have to kill him to do it.

Dib felt new tears prick his eyes, his face spasming in pain and raw emotion.

He could do at least that much.

For Zim.

He forced himself to drift back into the now, his fingers twitching as they moved towards his pocket, dipping in and brushing against the hidden weapon. Zim was still too far away for a direct hit, needing to wait for the Irken to draw closer – knowing he'd get one shot and one shot only and he wasn't going to screw it up.

It had been a soft, effortless sound, when the PAK limb skewered straight through Dib's torso. So delicate and fast—but it echoed deafeningly inside Zim's head.

Fresh, crimson blood— it was spilling across the dirty ground, pooling beneath the human as the earth silently soaked it up, damp with the flow of human life. The pale body writhed and squirmed around the impaling metal spear, like a small bug held fast by a toothpick.

Gasping for air. Searching for an escape. There wasn't one. There wasn't going to be another.

Zim looked down and caught Dib's amber eyes with his own, tears glistening behind his glasses as his expression twisted with something Zim didn't fully comprehend beyond pain. There was so much blood. The human looked so pale, skin ashen beside his blood-drenched coat—insipid besides the sea of almost black-crimson that swamped his vision.

The golden hue of Dib's eyes stood out as the only true color.

Zim was locked on that gaze, even as his puppet eyes flicked elsewhere, surveying the damage. He couldn't see anything else.

Those eyes he'd claimed. The ones he wanted. Still on him. Never leaving him.

Always on him.

The program animated Zim's body as he hovered over Dib, watching him on the ground before finally lowering closer to the human. When his boots touched the saturated dirt he straightened, standing a little at an angle as one of the other PAK legs bent forward, tip pointed towards Dib's head. A blue-white light began to spark along the metal end, throwing the entire tent under its azure glow.

One quick plasma beam, directly into Dib's head.

There was no way he could miss.

And the stab wound would surely kill Dib if this did not.

Zim felt the charge building, felt his body tense as it prepared to fire. It was only a matter of seconds now. He didn't have the energy to struggle, there just enough to look out onto the world, not resigned but too encompassed with weakness to try and intervene. There was pain, everywhere, in everything, but the hurt along his flesh paled to what lay within his chest.

There was nothing else for him to do but watch. Watch, and keep Dib's gaze with his.

If he couldn't have the human…then that would be his claim. His last claim. And no one else could have it.

As Zim lowered down Dib was aware of the humming of the plasma charging; noticed as the light from its end illuminated the entire space in an ethereal blue glow.

In that single instant Dib raised his weapon; forcing his weak muscles to respond as Zim crouched over him. He couldn't get a clear view of his Pak, knowing a shot there would have been instant death but not having the opening.

Dib couldn't fuck this up.

This was the only thing he could do for Zim; he didn't have time to find a better angle.

Without another thought Dib squeezed the trigger, aiming for the base of a spider leg; hoping that the blast would be strong enough to kick back the metal limb and sever the Pak – or at least damage it severely.

Before the plasma ray could even hope of finishing its charge, Dib had aimed and fired his gun. The vaporizing one. The blue glow of the plasma ray was overshadowed by the blinding white light that exited the weapon, bright and wild like a solar flare. The sound of its discharge was a high-pitched whirl, followed by a deafening boom as the air struck by the blast instantly became a vacuum, no longer filled with molecules as the ray completely dismantled them.

Zim didn't even realize what was happening.

There wasn't even a second to dodge. The Irken's vision was blinded with white as he felt his body move to get out of the way, the virus twisting him to avoid the lethal shot.

But it didn't miss.

The beam hit, just as Zim turned—its path aligning with the edge of his PAK and the half of a spider limb's base. It flew through the metal without any resistance, dancing off past the invader and into the circus tent, where it left a gaping hole through the fabric and faded out as it traversed towards the sky. The severed PAK limb that Dib's blast had destroyed fell to the floor with a heavy clank, ringing out in the heavy silence.

There was no pain this time. Nothing. Just nothing. Nothing but the sound of sparks—his body finally falling; crumpling to the floor.

And then Zim's world was swallowed in black.

Everything happened in a matter of seconds, Dib's arm falling to the dirt the moment the massive blast had been released from the weapon; his fingers quivering to try and keep their hold on the gun.

He had watched as Zim dodged; seeing his shadow among the world of white before the invader's form crumpled in a useless heap on the dirt floor.

Silence.

The soothing sound of rain was a whispering backdrop to the painful quiet that engulfed the tent.

Dib was almost in shock, yet his eyes held barely any cognition; darkened by tears as he stared hard at the fabric ceiling above him, too weak to move his head enough to see the fallen body of the alien.

Dib choked on a sob, the blood finally bubbled up in his throat; running down his chin from his pained sounds. Anguish gripped every fiber of him as he laid there, he had saved Zim from being a puppet, but in the end he had still murdered the only being he had grown to care about.

Murdered him.

Right there.

Dib wasn't bothered by the icy wind as it kicked up, stinging his flesh. He wanted to welcome it, welcome that cold harsh wind, he wanted to be taken away from this place; he just wanted to die.

Dib sniffled audibly, trying to calm himself, the sobs further agitating his chest wound, that hot sticky blood traveling fast up his throat because of it but he just couldn't stop himself from crying.

It was all too much.

How could this all happen?

Just…just yesterday they had been alright, they had been safe, working on weapons and talking about Keef's demise.

Just yesterday he had told Zim he loved him, Zim had nibbled his hair…

Dib gasped on a breath, memories flooding into his mind, his senses over-loaded with feelings he couldn't escape.

This…

This couldn't have happened.

It was a nightmare.

He'd…he'd wake up and…and…

It was then Dib heard the deliberate footsteps on the rain-slick path outside the tent. All his attention was drawn to that sound, his dull eyes flicking towards the gaping hole in the tent; his brow furrowing in the concentrated effort it took to keep himself alert.

Keef…

That had to be…

Dib stared long and hard at the opening, his hand clamping tight around his weapon.

Fucking bastard.

He was the cause of all this.

Dib composed himself as well as he could, a determined frown on his lips as he waited for a glimpse of Keef – just a glimpse, that's all he needed and he'd shoot the fucker's head off.

Dib raised his weapon, staring down the barrel, trying to focus despite the black shadows that tried to engulf his view.

He wasn't going to pass out.

Not right now.

He was taking Keef down first.

The tent flaps parted a minute afterwards, revealing the red-headed alien as he peeked into the dim area. His green eyes roved about for a moment, noticing the giant hole in the tent material nearby, shedding a dull light over the bloody massacre inside.

"Hmmm, I guess it's over then~." Keef's cheerful voice spilled out into the dismal quiet. With a little skip in his step he walked over, wide gaze drifting over the scene, almost in awe. He barely looked at Dib, his stare finding Zim's inert form and the large, gaping hole along the edge of his PAK. Sparks danced from the opening, his spider legs still not retracted and lying uselessly besides the former host body.

"That took a lot longer than I thought, buddy," the Synak whispered, leaning over to examine the Irken. "But you really did a great job! It kinda makes me sad that you're gone now…" A strange look crossed Keef's features, before suddenly brightening. "But maybe…," he reached down towards Zim, pale hands intending to reach for Zim's PAK, "if I take a piece of you with me, it won't seem so bad. That way we'll always be together…"

Dib's finger quivered to pull the trigger the moment Keef appeared only to be blessed with a stroke of luck when the Synak hadn't noticed him and instead skipped closer completely oblivious Dib was still alive.

Dib bided his time as Keef moved ever closer, eyeing him as hard as he could though it was almost like black ink had started to bleed into his sight. No matter how hard he blinked it wouldn't go away and he felt a confusing itch in the back of his brain.

He felt numb; he couldn't feel the hand holding the gun, or anything at all for that matter.

Pain was gone.

The moment Keef's grubby hands reached for Zim's corpse Dib finally took his chance – unable to clear his vision enough to aim, but the Synak was close enough for the blow not to miss – or, he hoped as much.

However, just as the trigger was pulled Dib's form went limp; unconsciousness finally taking hold over his over-worked body, shutting him down before he could even relish in his final victory.

The discharge from Dib's weapon flared out just as it did the last time, bright enough that the Synak couldn't help but notice it as his fingers almost brushed the cracked opening of Zim's PAK.

The human form melted into its fluid embodiment, just as the blast devoured where Keef's outstretched arms had been, catching and dissolving just some of the yellow, as the rest without warning quivered and dashed towards the entrance, disappearing beneath the hanging circus tent.

He was gone. The tent flaps whipped gently in the stormy breeze, rain still battering the outside world like a marching procession.

The sound slowly began to ebb, fading off until the storm had finally ceded as well, leaving the tent bathed in blood and silence. So silent, that when a PAK whirl hummed gently into the air, the noise seemed to fill the room, singing in the rain's hushed absence.

Neither body moved in response. Neither seemed to be able to, Dib's eyes closed as Zim's stared unmovingly in front of him towards nothing at all.

/Kkkkcck…rrr—/

Nothing at all, until finally, they blinked.

/Kkkkck… rr…RE… RE-REACTIVATING…/

And then they cleared, and the blackness finally started to ebb away.

A/N:

Looks pretty bleak for them huh? I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the next one will be up next week-end. It isn't the end of their story; it gets a little more complicated and action-packed from here. Please tell us what you think!