Author's Note: Ok, do I really have to say it? Invader Zim is property of Jhonen Vasquez and his tribe of winged monkeys at Nickelodeon studios. I wasn't really planning on doing a second chapter to this, but the creativity demons would not be ignored.

Warning: This is a slash ficcy, specifically Red/Purple. And, seeing as how I've already given this story an R rating, expect a wee bit of gratuitous Irken loving going on at some point. Or at least as much loving as two male aliens with no reproductive organs can manage. ^.^;;;

Prelude to a Nightmare - Chapter 2

A soft whimper escaped Zim upon his return to consciousness as his body declared every little ache and pain. He hurt in places that he didn't know he had, or maybe his body had just turned into one large hurt. Zim wasn't exactly sure which, but either seemed valid. The world behind Zim's eyelids was pitch black interspersed with flashes of red. Zim cracked his eyes open, but the harsh light of where ever he was jabbed through his sockets like a dull knife which was succeeded by a wave of nausea.

Since he couldn't look to see where he was, Zim began concentrating on the feel of his situation. He was stretched out flat on his stomach, cold metal pressing up against him. No restraints, Zim was quick to note. "Brain wave analysis indicates the patient is awake." The voice was cold and clinical, seeming to come from all around Zim at once, a feminine monotone that no living creature could emulate.

"Thank you, MAU." This new voice was weary, coming from a living throat and not a machine. Zim paused in his analysis, focusing in on the name MAU - Medical Assistance Unit. He was with a doctor! But how? The last thing Zim remembered before passing out was a dark silhouette appearing over him. "Please detach your backpod, Invader," the doctor said, sounding as though he spoke those words a hundred times every day.

Still unsure of his situation, Zim hesitated. If he gave up his backpod, he would be left weaponless! "Invader," the doctor repeated, adding a note of unspoken reprimand. "Detach your backpod so that I may complete your examination. I am under orders from Tallest Red to get you mobile as quickly as possible." Under orders from the Tallest? Well, that was a completely different matter then! Zim concentrated, sending the command down along his spine that would remove the backpod.

Wiring slid up into the pod with a soft slurping sound, and then the backpod floated free. As soon as the backpod was clear from Zim's access ports, a new device slid into his spinal connections. "Beginning damage assessment," MAU intoned. "Analyzing."

Zim moaned as the exam commenced, imagining little feelers from MAU's probes tickling his organs. How had he gotten to a doctor anyway? The last thing he remembered was fire, and diving for cover, and a towering shadow. And Irk destroyed! Zim pushed himself up, forcing his eyes open. "Irk?" Zim gasped. "What happened to Irk? How did I get here? I must know!"

"Lie back down, Invader," the doctor ordered, frowning at his patient's conduct. Zim made no move to comply and with a sigh, the doctor began talking. "Preliminary estimates indicate that you managed to destroy half the planet. You might have destroyed the entire planet if Tallest Red hadn't stopped your mech. Then the Tallest brought you here and said that once you're all patched up, you are to be sent to Food Courtia."

Food Courtia? A proud Invader being sent to spend his life frying things? Zim shuddered at the thought. Impossible! Surely the doctor had heard wrong! Anything but Food Courtia! Zim leapt off of the examining table, ripping MAU's probes loose, and grabbed his backpod. "Damage assessment interrupted," was the automaton's reply.

Pushing past the stunned doctor, Zim dashed out of the examining room. As the doors slid shut behind him, the doctor merely shook his head. "I guess that means he's well enough for the trip to Food Courtia. We probably should try to stop him, but let's not, MAU. Where could he go, anyway?"

*~*~*~*~*

Tallest Red groaned as a loud pounding jarred him from his sleep. Who could possibly be at the door at this hour? Wan sunlight filtered in through the window and Red grimaced, remembering that it had been early morning when he and Purple were at last able to catch a bit of sleep. Even with the knocking, Purple continued to sleep, his head buried against Red's side. "Purple," Red murmured, giving his partner a shake. "Purple, go answer the door. Tell whoever it is to go away."

"Nnngh," Purple grumbled sleepily. When Purple made no move to rise, Red slid out from under him. Red took a moment to examine the patch-up job Purple had done on his hands. The blisters didn't seem quite as large, but they were still puffed out - the dead skin a glaring white against the healthy green.

Still the knocking persisted. Red considered answering the door in all his nude glory. Whoever was out there had it coming! Only the thought of a scolding from Purple made Red drop the idea. "Hold on, hold on!" Red called out, rushing to his sleeping quarters and grabbing a robe. Because his hands didn't want to work right, Red couldn't tie the robe shut, so he held it closed instead. Hastily garbed, he went and opened the door. No one.

"Excuse me, my Tallest." Red's gaze dropped down at the voice. A tiny Invader stared up at Red, gazing in awe at his leader.

The voice Red didn't know, but the Invader it belonged to, he did. "Shit!" Red growled, realizing that this was the Invader who only a few hours before had destroyed half of Irk. "Aren't you supposed to be on the way to Food Courtia?"

Zim's antennae, already low out of proper deference to his leader, fell back even further at this recognition. Zim had been rehearsing a speech as to why he shouldn't be banished, but at the sight of Red's narrowing eyes, he quailed. "My Tallest, surely one little mistake doesn't warrant such a harsh punishment!" Realizing he'd spoken too bluntly, Zim clapped his hands over his mouth, eyes wide with horror.

Red's left eye twitched in annoyance. Little mistake? Destroying half the planet and ruining Operation Impending Doom constituted a little mistake? If he'd not gotten more than enough excitement stopping Zim's rampaging mech, Red would have snatched Zim up and hurled him out the window. Fortunately for the diminutive Invader, Red was too tired to deal with him. "You are going to Food Courtia, and that is final," Red said, forcing his voice soft. Then he gently, but firmly, shut the door in Zim's face.

Red crossed the room, returning to Purple's side. He sank down onto the thick carpet beside his partner. "I take it that was Zim," Purple yawned, running his fingers up and down the silken hem of Red's robe. Red's head nodded in a silent affirmative, an angry growl rumbling through his chest. "The little fellow deserves some credit," Purple continued. "He's got guts."

"Either that or a death wish," Red muttered darkly. "You should have gotten up to handle that, Purple."

"And miss out on the chance for such an excellent view of your ass?" Purple's warm breath tickled Red's chest as he laughed. "Perish the thought!" Raising himself up, Purple placed his mouth against Red's neck, nuzzling the yielding skin. He was rewarded by a pleasured moan from Red. Purple could feel beneath his lips the fragile bones and thudding pulse of his partner. With a quick snap, Irk would only have one Tallest. But the old hostilities had long since been set aside.

Fingers scrabbled at Purple's armor and he drew back, wagging a finger at Red. "Take it easy on those hands, Red. I've told you once that once already. You don't want to break the blisters." Red merely smiled, a familiar hunger rising in his eyes. Purple rose, letting Red's gaze drink in his height. First disconnecting his backpod, and then unfastening his armor, Purple worked slowly, savoring the anticipation.

The chest plate cracked open, revealing an unmarked torso which spoke more of a scholar's life than a fighter's. As Purple slid out of his armor, he dangled it in front of him, lowering it slowly. "Stop being such a tease!" Red ordered, grinning from antenna to antenna as he watched Purple's little strip show.

Purple shook his head, a smile playing about his lips. "Not a chance, Red! You always want it fast and now. But this time I'm in charge, and I want to relish every moment." Red's lip poked out in a childish pout, but he didn't protest. The chest plate was eased to the floor, and Purple swept back a couple of steps, his hips swaying gently. Since it was expected, Red watched, though the display did nothing for him. When Purple noticed Red's lack of reaction, his shoulders slumped. "I'm making a fool of myself, aren't I? It's just that I've read that with some species the anticipation makes it better...."

"We're Irkens. We're not like other species. The touch is what's important, not the display," Red murmured, motioning for Purple to join him. Purple did as he was bade and crouched down next to Red. Fingers brushed against Purple's cheek, and he shut his eyes, leaning into the stroke. "But we can take it slow this time if that's what you want, Ptor."

Just as Purple started to correct Red, he stopped. They were alone, so what did it matter what Red called him? Instead of killing the moment with words, Purple nestled against Red and started to caress his partner's back. His fingers went straight to two small bumps, the access ports for Red's backpod. Round and round Purple's fingers went in weaving circles, stroking the skin around the ports - light, fluttering touches, like the kiss of a butterfly.

Drawing his hand away, Purple pressed Red down against the floor, the thick carpet pillowing Red's body. Red immediately curled his fingers through the carpet. Without giving it a second thought, Purple turned Red's hands over, gripping the smooth wrists.

Though pinned beneath Purple, Red still tried to take the offensive, like the warrior he was. He rose as much as Purple would allow, mouth tracing a slow line against Purple's face. Purple's head bowed low even as his body arched in delight. When Red reached Purple's antennae, he took one of the dark stalks in his mouth delicately, as though sampling a fine wine. A fiery wave of pleasure coursed through Purple and he ground his hips against Red, an act born out of instinct and not from any immediate need.

The antenna in Red's mouth lost its wiry stiffness, becoming limp and malleable as he rolled it around his tongue. "Oh... Oooooh!" Purple moaned, losing himself in the touch. He released Red's wrists and began kneading his partner's chest, his lips again working at Red's neck, savoring the cinnamon taste of his skin.

Fresh from a crisis, the two leaders clung to each other with a desperation they'd never before known. Their pent-up fear, they found, needed to go somewhere. Purple pressed into Red as if they would become one creature. He still couldn't believe that Red had returned to him, and his fingers dug into Red's skin almost of their own volition, testing Red's reality. The darker green sheen of blood welled up in tiny droplets from the scratches Purple was leaving behind.

The pleasure and warmth growing inside Purple became so intense that he didn't think his body could contain them any longer. He almost felt as though he were going to burst into flames right on top of Red. Ah! But what a burning that would be - to drown in the fires of touch!

Just when it seemed as though Purple could take no more, the good feeling receded. Lost in the carnal need for more, Purple's lips parted in a silent snarl. Then he noticed Red beneath him, gasping and smiling... And exhausted. Red had given as much as he could, and had been pushed further by Purple's ministrations than he'd thought possible. Purple stared, not knowing what had come over him. His fingers traced the scratches on Red's chest guiltily. 'I should have let Red rest and recover, and not given in to my appetites.' Purple sighed at the thought.

Red reached up, curling his fingers around the back of Purple's head, and drawing the lavender gaze down to meet his. "S'nice," he breathed. "S'nice. Didn't know you had it in you, Ptor. Have to go out and almost get myself killed more often if I'm going to have something like that waiting on me when I get back."

Purple laughed and rested his head against Red. "Don't even think of it, Dak," he murmured.

*~*~*~*~*

Tall Siy, rested back in her ship's command center, her white coat standing out in the dim, diffuse light. Double fingers tapped out an intricate, impatient rhythm on her chair's arm as she waited, legs covered in thigh high boots crossing and uncrossing every few minutes. Suddenly the vid-screen in front of her blipped to life, and she smiled. "Ah, Murg! I was wondering how much longer you would keep me waiting. What do you have to report?"

"My Tall One," the green-eyed soldier murmured, dropping his antennae back deferentially, "the mission has failed. Zim's mech unit did not destroy the palace. There were rumors of Tallest Red's demise, but my spies have confirmed that these are false. Both of the Tallest live yet." Murg spat out the word "both" as though it were a vile curse.

"Damn," Siy muttered, sighing wearily as she rubbed her eyes. "Those two have the luck of the Monkey. At least with half of Irk destroyed through their plans, the other Talls should offer more support to the Traditionalists." Murg's head drooped, shoulders slumping in a picture of absolute despair. Siy frowned, her lavender eyes darkening to an angry black. "What aren't you telling me, Murg?"

Reluctantly, Murg met Siy's gaze. "The people may very well support the Tallest more than ever. It is being said that Tallest Red himself stopped the mech, and many lives were spared through Tallest Red and Tallest Purple's quick thinking, my Tall One."

Siy's fist slammed down on the arm of her chair. She rose and began pacing the confines of the bridge, her cloak swishing about her thin frame. Curse after vile curse spewed from her mouth. Siy knew she could have manipulated one Tallest or the other alone, but together they were too close - too dependent on each other. Her avenues of control were limited. Her plan to eliminate one or both of the Tallest had been so simple, and had the approval of the Traditionalists, who saw having two leaders as an abomination. How could she have failed so miserably?

Slipping cormorant weed juice into that tiny Invader's drink had been child's play. All Siy had done was pretend to congratulate Zim, pouring a single drop into his Kahlua while he wasn't looking. Then, with a few simple hints from Siy, Zim had gone off on his little rampage, pushed over edge by the insidious combination of drug and drink.

Siy had been so certain that the Palace of the Tallest would be brought down, taking Red and Purple with it. Once they were gone, she would have brought out Zheb, to be the next Tallest. Siy paused, smiling as she thought of Zheb. His brain power stopped just short of drooling moron, and he was a soldier to the core. But also, Zheb was, according to Siy's figurings, surpassed in height only by Irk's double rulers. Best of all, Siy had complete control over Zheb. He would dive into a sun if she desired it. Once Zheb was Almighty Tallest, Siy would no longer need to work through the Traditionalists. She would control all of Irk, using Zheb as her puppet mouthpiece.

Another screen flickered on and Siy turned her attention to it. Red and Purple, both definitely alive, smiled out at their unseen audience. "People of Irk," Red began, his eyes glittering as he oozed charm for the cameras. "The worst of the crisis is over, and the Invader responsible has been dealt with! Now, we must all join together in a Great Rebuilding!" From the way Red flung his arms out, Siy figured he was imagining cheers.

Tallest Purple stepped forward, Red falling back behind him automatically. "Now for the details," Siy muttered. Sure enough, Purple began outlining the basic plan for the rebuilding. Siy yawned and turned her attention back to Murg. "Predictable, aren't they? Ever speech is the same. Tallest Red keeps the crowd hooked and Tallest Purple does the actual speech."

Murg bobbed his head quickly, hoping to be dismissed soon. "Murg..." Siy's lips curled in a dangerous smile. "The Tallest will undoubtedly make inspections while this 'Great Rebuilding' is going on, and construction sites are dangerous... Arrange for some accidents whenever they go out."

Murg raised his hand to his head in a sharp salute. "Yes, my Tall One!"

With a negligent wave, Siy said, "And they'll probably try for galactic conquest again to make up for this failure. Find out what they've done with Zim and see to it that he shows up when they have another Assigning. He might prove useful again. That will be all." The screen went blank, and she turned her attention back to the speech in time to hear Red describing his battle with the mech. Siy's eyes narrowed and she hissed under her breath. Patience... She must have patience. The Tallests' luck couldn't hold forever. Could it?