"Sleeper Agent"

'Chapter Thirty-Seven'

They left their key-cards at the front counter, the hostess giving them a wayward glance as the two exited the building, with Zim's hand still firmly keeping hold of Dib. The Irken's staunch march across the station drew a few stares, but most had learned quickly just to look away—rumors spread quickly around a small place like this, and it wasn't too difficult to recognize the little Irken and his strange pale companion that left such commotion in their wake.

The stares did not dissipate as they found the tavern once again; the moment they entered the barely-lit bar, their presence was immediately met with the attention of the few eyes who resided there. Zim swept the room with a challenging gaze, releasing Dib's wrist quietly as the door slowly closed behind them. No one was approaching—good muck-worms, they could keep their hands today, perhaps.

"Hurry and collect your supplies." Zim commanded, standing beside the doorway as he allowed Dib to move ahead of him. He watched the boy's back, observing the swish of his trench coat and the glint of his sight-devices in the dull lighting, before the invader's eyes slid left-ward, towards the nondescript doorway to the storage shop. Fluorescent light slipped out from beneath, undisturbed until a shadow eclipsed it from within the other room, indicating that someone was inside the shop.

A dark look crossed Zim's features. It wasn't difficult to guess who that particular shadow belonged to, or Zim's intentions, as he abruptly turned towards it, with little regard to whether anyone saw him or not. He didn't even spare a glance to see if Dib knew what he was doing, his concerns narrowing to one thing only.

This wouldn't take him very long.

Dib had obeyed Zim's command without a second thought; wanting to get out of the bar as soon as possible. He didn't like the eyes on his back, the sticky air clinging to his skin, or the residual memories that started to wash up in his conscious – making him feel uncomfortable all over.

He made his way to the bar, unaware of Zim's devious intentions as the Irken set a pace for Dwicky's shop.

"Excuse me," He cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the bartender, his towering figure turning just in time to block Zim's form from view as well as the blinding light from the supply store as the door opened and shut, "I left my supplies on the counter here," Dib gestured to the top of the bar, hoping the bartender was catching his words, "Uh, last night," He continued, flushing as his hands fell atop the wooden plane of the bar.

The bartender eyed him almost curiously, growling something in his native tongue as he drew his hands out wide, attempting to explain something beyond words.

"With Dwicky, supplies," Dib tried again, narrowing down words that the monstrous alien might know.

Recognition flashed in his many eyes and he nodded, gesturing towards Dwicky's shop and snarling something between his serrated teeth before he picked up the glass he had been previously cleaning and turned from the human teen.

Dib's heart started to flutter unpleasantly in his chest, his palms sweating with the notion of seeing Dwicky again. Face to face, after what had happened—

He forced himself to keep calm, letting out the breath he was holding as he turned back towards the door, "Zim—" His words died on his tongue as his vision was met with nothing but the empty entrance way of the bar and a few curious alien stares.

It took Dib only a moment to know where that conniving Irken had snuck off to.

"Shit!" Dib yipped, scrambling towards Dwicky's store; fear gripping his nerves as he yanked the door open—praying he wasn't too late to save the poor man from Zim's misplaced wrath.

"YOU'RE LYING!" The shout ricocheted along the metal walls, the venomous snarl in it obviously Zim's as the words greeted Dib's entrance. There was blood—red, wet, human—splattered precariously about the cement floors, smeared into some areas as if something had disturbed it.

That something was most likely Mr. Dwicky, being used as Zim's personal paintbrush against the walls and floor of the storage room. A series of harsh sounds followed Zim's yell, and a strangled yip of pain, somewhere deeper in the chamber, among the rows of shelving cases that were no longer as straight and orderly as they'd once been. Boxes and items were strewn in piles, knocked from their shelves, blocking many of the pathways between the rows, but some spots were just enough for a person to squeeze past.

Panicked breathing was barely audible in the back of the room, out of immediate sight. "I… I—I told you…! It was an a-accident!" Dwicky's shaky voice trickled among the wreckage. Sounds of scuffling merged with the click of boots, firm and unyielding beside the human male's startled demeanor. "None of it was intentional! It just… it just happened! If you'll just let me explain—"

"SILENCE PUTRID MEAT-WAD!" Zim screamed, and then there was a BANG and Dwicky yelped. "Zim is not concerned with your filthy reasoning! The Dib is mine and you invaded what belongs to ME!" Another sound, this time wet and sharp. Another groan. "Your useless brain-meats should have considered that."

"N-Now, now, please, we c-can talk this out," Dwicky retorted between ragged breaths. "He was drunk, he wasn't thinking straight and…and things got out of hand. But it's not my fault, really, he came on to ME, and it's, um, kind of hard to turn someone down when they have you by the tie all ready to go and—"

"Enough! Fiiiiilthy swine, you still touched Irken property—ZIM'S property! Your excuses are futile! You marked him as yours." The hiss in Zim's voice was unmistakable; the deadly narrowing of his crimson eyes could almost be heard in the slither of his tone. "That is unacceptable."

"What!? N-No, you—I told you already, it was an accident, I wasn't trying to take him! And he never said he was with you, so how was I supposed to know?" Dwicky continued to protest, and there was more shuffling, as if he was trying to escape. "All he said was that he was angry at you! If anything you should be talking this out with him, shouldn't you? Resolve whatever problem you guys have? I mean if he's your mate or whatev—"

"He is NOT my—he is Zim's enemy! I HATE him, understand?! You speak nonsense; do not insult an Irken Elite with such weak stink-beasty emotions!"

"I didn't—h-HEY, wait, calm down! Calm down!" Dwicky's tone flitted into panic, and the sharp sound of PAK limbs sliding through the air was enough of a reason to understand why. "I'm not trying to offend you, that's just, well, it's how it sounds!" There was a pause. "Dib's… important to you, right?"

"…that is none of your concern."

Dib had burst into the room, stabling himself in the doorway as his gaze flitted around the room in panic. Zim's vibrating yell had started him; his heart beat a mile a minute as he tried to digest what was going on within the small brightly lit room.

Blood stood out like neon paint against the white walls and shelving; smearing in obscure patterns, painting a pretty distinct picture of what had happened mere moments before, the toppled boxes and items hinting to how exactly Dwicky had attempted to escape.

Oh god.

This was all his fault—he needed to get to Zim before he killed Dwicky.

Dib could hear the raging conversation and he quickly gathered his wits and started deeper into the room, towards the storage area, following the line of destruction until he came upon the only two occupants of the room.

Zim's Pak limbs were poised and ready; Dwicky was cornered in the back room of the supply store – there was nowhere else for him to go, which was probably why he was attempting to talk his way out.

But, if Dib knew Zim at all – talking your way out wasn't an option.

"Zim!" Dib's tone rose above whatever might've been trying to be said, trying to gain the Irken's attention as he waded his way through the mess and towards the alien in just a few quick strides. Without warning he grappled for Zim's arms, looming over him from behind; very much aware of the razor sharp spider limbs poised just inches from his face – aimed towards the prone shop owner.

"Stop it," Dib snapped with more force than he was really feeling at the moment, trying his damndest to keep a hold on the Irken; knowing that if Zim just reacted, those metal limbs would definitely do some damage to his torso and face, "This isn't going to fix anything—I said I was sorry, it's not Dwicky's—" Dib bit his lip, not wanting to entirely defend the human for fear Zim might take it the wrong way, not wanting to appear he had feelings for Dwicky or anything, but his conscience wouldn't allow Zim to kill him in cold blood for his own mistake, "Can't we just go?" He nearly huffed, digging his fingers into Zim's wrists as if pleading for him to just concede.

Zim tensed as he felt Dib suddenly come up behind him, grabbing hold of his wrists and restraining him. He pulled against the other's grasp as red eyes flicked to the human. "What do you think you're doing?" he growled, trying to yank his hands away from Dib. "Release me at once, Dib! I will not leave until this insolent meat-sack has paid for his actions!" He refused to depart with the knowledge that the earth-stink had left his mark without consequence.

Zim's Pak legs wavered a bit in the air, but made no move to attack Dib, or retreat back to their source, instead just waiting for when their master would be freed. On the floor Dwicky watched the exchange, relief clear on his features with the addition of Dib's presence.

"D-Dib…." He staggered to his feet, grasping the wall for support—his hands left faint stains on the metal, covered in the same blood that oozed from his forehead and drenched his white shirt. "Dib, I—please, ya gotta tell him, last night, it wasn't my faul—BUT, but it wasn't yours either, you were drunk and this was all just a big misunderstanding and I… I'm, I'm sorry; I didn't realize you two were…." He trailed off, awkwardly, seeing the way Zim bared his teeth and realizing the subject was far more touchy than expected, "… erh, close. Like that."

"I think you did enough—" Dib murmured between clenched teeth; the force of holding Zim still becoming too much. He wasn't able to get that great of a grip on the Irken to begin with since the obstructing Pak limbs didn't allow him to press flush against the alien, having to remain a foot or so back from him even while restraining. He yanked Zim's wrists back with effort, locking their ankles in an awkward pose as he forced the alien to arch backwards towards him, their eyes locking, "C'mon Zim," He started, his amber eyes almost pleading; knowing that Zim could easily wriggle himself away if he dropped to the floor, and Dib doubted he'd be fast enough to stop the Irken from springing for the kill once he escaped his grasp.

Dib flinched to the sound of his name, having not looked at Dwicky at all since he entered the establishment. Reluctantly he tore his gaze away from Zim's, looking in the other man's direction and taking notice of how worse for wear he already looked. He was unsure just how much damage had been dealt to him, but the sight of the blood-soaked shirt caused Dib's heart to clench painfully.

"He knows," Dib mumbled, unsure if he should even respond. They had sort of went through this all last night – more like he yelled it at Zim until things escalated elsewhere, but he was sure Zim had the main details. Though, it was obvious Zim didn't care who held the brunt of the blame, he was hell-bent on taking whatever lingering anger and frustration might be left out on Dwicky.

Dib couldn't let that happen.

It was mainly just his fault, if he didn't come on to Dwicky, this wouldn't have happened.

Though, Dib almost wanted to ask if it would have mattered if he had explained how he and Zim were; how he was in love with the Irken. Would that have really changed the outcome of the evening once he was in Dwicky's bed?

"It was all my fault," He cut off his thoughts before he said something he might end up regretting, "You don't need to take anything out on him, alright?" Dib said, turning his honey-brown eyes back on the Irken still captive in his grasp, "He didn't know, I never told him…" Mainly because he really didn't think they had anything.

But they had something, whatever it was, and it was what held Zim still for a moment, rigid in Dib's grasp and glowering pointedly at Dwicky—the Irken's breathing harsh as he gritted his teeth. Logic was in Dib's words but it was human logic, stupid logic, and there was only one form of reasoning Zim was hell bent on obeying.

"That doesn't matter….," he hissed, standing still, his tone quiet and severe; masking his motives until he abruptly thrashed against Dib, worming out of his hold. "IT DOESN'T MATTER!"

He wrenched his arms away from Dib, his spider limbs flexing back to nudge Dib away from Zim altogether. There was barely a second's pause before the Irken closed the distance between him and Mr. Dwicky, whose attempt at escape was cut short by the gloved hand that closed around his throat, pinning him to the wall. Blue eyes widened as pale hands gripped at Zim's arm, trying to dislodge him. "Kck…guh… ngh, Z-Zi—"

"Silence!" Zim commanded. The PAK limbs had departed into Zim's back, unnecessary, and his talons dug into flesh of the human's neck, cutting off his airway. He could hear the human sputter and choke, feel his nails claw uselessly into his uniform sleeve. "No more of your lies and your jelly and your pleas! Zim has heard enough!" He snarled right into Dwicky's face, and saw his reflection in the man's wide, frightened eyes. The man's body flailed beneath his grasp and he easily slammed the other's head against the wall, watching those same eyes roll up in pain.

"I will hear no more from you," Zim spat, clawing his other hand into the underside of Dwicky's ribcage, where a previous encounter with the Irken's PAK leg was blooming red and fresh, soaking the thin shirt. A pained gasp escaped Dwicky's lips—yes, struggle in despair, vile idiot. Stupid, useless, ignorant…. His hand closed, firmly, imbuing all of his frustration into this singular point on the feeble human body. But it would never be enough to satisfy him.

He would just have to choke him harder.

It had all happened so fast—

In an instant the Irken had dislodged him, rendering him useless as he fell back against a tower of boxes; toppling them as he tried to brace himself on the wall, attempting to gain his balance back just as the alien sped off towards Dwicky.

"Damn it," He cursed under his breath, launching himself away from the wall just as he heard the deafening 'slam' that resulted when Dwicky's head had forcefully been smashed into the wall. "Zim! Stop it—Listen to me!" Dib yelled at the hot-headed alien who seemed to pointedly ignore him as he dug his claws just under Dwicky's ribs; the sick 'squealching' sound that resulted caused a shiver of distaste to roll down Dib's spine.

Mr. Dwicky continued to choke and gasp for breath; his vibrant eyes rolling up into his head, his skin starting to turn an ugly shade of purple.

If Dib didn't intervene Zim would surely choke the life right out of him.

Without a second thought Dib closed the gap, slender fingers fisting around a delicate feeler before he jerked his hand back hard – trying to yank Zim from his captive via his antennae, "Stop!" He growled, incensed in his need to protect Dwicky – the man may not have been entirely innocent, but he definitely didn't need to die this day due to Zim's possessive insanity.

Zim hadn't heard Dib approach, but he certainly felt the five-fingered hand wrap around his stalk and wrench it backwards. He released Dwicky instantly, and a wounded whimper fell from his mouth before he could tame it, as his body fell backwards towards Dib to relieve the tension on his sensitive feeler. The painful hold on his antenna ultimately paralyzed him, like a puppy grabbed by the scruff of its neck, and despite himself he did not struggle, lest he encourage more of the painful sensation.

He watched as Dwicky's body slumped to the floor—he was breathing again, but barely, his head bowed forward and hiding any true signs of consciousness. Zim growled at the sight of his chest moving. "Dib-stink…!" He hissed, tempted to reach up and separate Dib's hand from his wrist. "Let Zim go, this instant!"

"Only if you leave him alone." Dib said firmly, squeezing the antennae for emphasis. His eyes flicked to Dwicky's immobile form, relieved to see the even rise and fall of his chest, though the man was definitely unconscious – at least he was alive. He released the Irken's sensitive feeler after a moment, placated with the notion that Zim probably wouldn't go on the attack, if only because he didn't want his antennae to be yanked again.

Dib turned his gaze on Zim, lifting his hand to gently brush his fingers against the curve of the wounded feeler in a silent apology, "Let's go, okay?" He murmured in a gentler tone, knowing that someone would have to be alerted by now – it wasn't like the room was sound proof, and Zim's yells mixed with Dwicky's yelps would surely have been heard. Whether or not anyone really cared for Dwicky's well being probably wouldn't matter; the scent of blood would have definitely alerted the resident aliens, and Dib didn't feel like getting involved in anymore scuffles.

He glanced around the room, wondering if there might be a back door they could go through; already hearing the low rumbling voices just outside the supply store. Dib absently trailed around the counter, intent on finding an alternate route out of the bar.

There was no one in the store yet, but the bartender's guttural growls were audible through the door, as well as the groans of chairs being pushed and people moving. Atop the counter sat a familiar looking bag—the one Dib had left in the bar last night. Some specs of crimson dotted the outside, but it otherwise appeared intact and undisturbed.

Zim followed behind Dib, pushing past him with a sour look on his face as he too scanned the area. The feeler Dib had grabbed was bent at a funny angle and twitched slightly, and the dirt-child's small show of apology had done little more than send more awkward shudders up Zim's spine.

The antenna that wasn't experiencing trauma perked up to the noise outside—the Irken cursed, strutting out into the room to look among the walls for an exit. He had no desire to waste time on the disgusting beasts in the drink house, and his uniform was already filthy with the juices of the Dwicky-worm. Beyond eradicating the ex-counselor, there was no other reason for him to remain on this abhorrent space station.

Leaving sounded like a good idea.

"Here," Zim announced, spotting a door hidden between two shelving cases that lined the wall. He stalked towards it, his boots clicking loudly on the blood-stained floor. "Hurry up, Dib-smell!"

There was shuffling outside of the store, chairs being pushed in or moved, low growls and hisses from the alien patrons. Someone sounded more alert than the others, their tone flitting up into a high-pitched chirp. Dib was nervous that Dwicky's blood's scent might have wafted into the bar. Though, how it could be smelled over the pungent scent of booze and smoke Dib was uncertain.

Maybe he was being paranoid, maybe no one smelled anything and that particular alien was just excited over something.

Dib bit his lip, kicked the door of the store shut just in case and grabbed his supplies off the counter. Bundle in hand he followed briskly after the Irken, "Coming." He mumbled, slipping through the door and into the slender alley just behind it.

The parking garage wasn't too far off from here.

Zim slipped as silently as he could down the shadowy passage, spotting the open road up ahead. He barely gave heed to the aliens that stared at him as he shot out of the alley, turning left almost immediately and sprinting from there, black boots smacking against the ground.

He did not look to see if they were being followed. There was no time for that. He didn't care if the whole Irk-forsaken station was aware of what he'd done, because it would matter little once they reached the Voot. He would defeat them with his speed; outwit them before they even reached for their guns.

He was an Irken Elite, the pride of the Empire, the best Invader to grace their name in the Irken archives. If he intended to escape a third-rate rest station, then by Tallest, it would be done, without doubt.

Though, having a measly human companion to worry about might not allow Zim's intentions to follow through so effortlessly.

Red eyes glanced back, expecting to see the child lagging behind him and his great, amazing speed, but to Zim's relief—and mild irritation—the Dib-beast was keeping up with him to a relative degree. His Irken pride damned the years of chasing and fights that made the boy so competent, but for now, he would tolerate it. Better he was able to run beside him than be slow and require Zim to—begrudgingly—carry Dib and his giant cranium to the ship.

They breeched the outskirts of the station town, the garage looming over them ahead as they dashed across the long, empty road. As far as Zim could see, there was no one to content with in the parking area, and he still had yet to hear the sounds of pursuit at their back. He smirked at that—fools, one of their own was half-way dead and they had yet to notice. Of course that was perfectly, perfectly good with Zim.

Dib was probably only able to keep up with Zim's speed because of his long legs, loping at a pace about a foot behind the invader as they sprinted through the parking garage. Dib thought he could hear their pursuers in the distance, but he didn't bother a glance behind him to know for sure.

As the voot came into view Dib tapped into his last reserves and ran full speed at the cruiser; the moment the windshield opened he hopped inside, his bundle thrown into the back from his crazy leap as he crashed on the seat, a gangly-limbed mess.

"Jesus—" Dib gasped, trying to gain his breath—he hadn't ran like that since, well, since Earth probably. "Are they coming?"

The laser blast to the side of the cruiser was probably answer enough.

"Tallest—!" Zim swore. He had jumped into the Voot merely a second before the laser made contact, and a quick glance over the side gave the Irken a clear view of the burn mark gracing his previously unsullied cruiser. Several more swears and curses fell from his mouth.

"Those filthy slime-beasts!" The little alien spat to himself as he shuffled into his seat, pressing buttons to start the cruiser's engines and bring down the windshield. "Do they really think they can bring down the great ZIM?! Their weapons are nothing agains—huh?" The little vehicle hummed to life within seconds, almost as if it were brand new, and Zim's anger quickly transformed into excited relief over the success of his repair work.

"IT WORKS!" Zim crowed, triumphant. "YES! ZIM IS A GENIUS!" His hands were at once on the controls, and the small spacecraft was soon hovering in the air, the easy target of several laser beams as they attempted to pelt the Voot Cruiser in a barrage. Fortunately the majority of the shots missed their destination. Zim cackled all the more in victory. "Prepare yourself human!" He warned abruptly, and with the pull of a lever the Voot shot forward like a rocket, hurtling them towards what seems to be the exit ramp of the station.

Dib barely had time to grab at his bearings, much less right himself in his seat before Zim had commanded the cruiser to shoot off the station in a flurry of speed. Luckily the lasers hadn't pierced the hull, and none of the angry aliens they were quickly leaving behind, had bothered to pursue past the station.

Once at a normal cruising speed, Dib looked out his side of the window at the rapidly retreating space station; just a pinprick of light among the millions of stars.

"That was insane." Dib murmured, if only to himself, his old habit surfacing with his inability to really confront Zim on anything. After all, it was just as much his fault as the alien's.

Adjusting his glasses, his amber gaze switched to the alien at his side, "How far to the massive?" He asked, still steadying his heart and breathing, trying to focus on something else so the space station never had to be mentioned again.

An antenna twitched in Dib's direction, but Zim's focus was entirely on the ship's controls—magenta eyes reflecting the dashboard lights as gloved fingers danced over various buttons. He could barely contain his delight at how well the Voot had taken off. Truly his repairs had been magnificent, nothing less to expect from such an amazing genius as Invader Zim.

If Dib wanted to abandon the space station from memory, then the Voot Cruiser's excellent condition and Zim's already short attention span would surely be the answers to his prayer.

"Eh?" Zim said, finally catching that Dib had spoken. He waved the human off, eyes still glued to one of the many screens on the dash. "Not now, Dib-let. Zim is busy trying to find the Massive."

A/N:

Another chapter~

Hopefully you guys are still enjoying the ride. There may be one last update if I can find it in my archives. Please tell me what you think.