AN: Long chapter, angst, and by the chapter's title, well, I guess you can tell what else. Reposted to fix an error with a repeated paragraph. Thanks Yume no Zencho! I've had the worst problems with this for some reason. I've reposted this chapter three times to fix my paragraph error and other punctuation annoyances. I apologize to anyone who's getting tired of this chapter.

Some Kind of Crazy Love Potion

Chapter 11

"The Blessed Event"

"Will you...at all?"

"No." Zim set his mouth in a severe frown. Lips shut.

And that was all Dib could fish from Zim for several days. Will you talk to me Zim, at all? Let's talk about this...secret. Each day was a menace. It lurked behind Zim like an open wound, one that could be aggravated and infected. His open wound was his exposed secret.

Zim crossed his arms and refused to make eye contact with Dib who was trying to catch his own red eyes in a stare. Zim felt it. Dib was trying to scare him, taunt him, hurt him. Now knocked from his pedestal, metaphorically and literally, Zim was suddenly aware of just how much this revelation embarrassed him. Oh, even more than that, it hurt his stubborn pride and ego to know that Dib had everything now.

He had his base.

He had his body.

Now, his past, present, and future.

Everything that he ever considered his had been touched by Dib. He was defiled.

"So, now that I know all this, I guess we'll have to change things around here." Dib took a sip of his soda, shifting his eyes away from Zim. It was obvious Zim hated his gaze.

"What kind of changes?" Zim asked unexpectedly from the kitchen table.

"I dunno. Things between us. I can't keep you here knowing what I know."

Zim lifted an antenna curiously. "Oh? So you'll give my base back?"

Dib calculated Zim's demeanor. He would be eager to get his base back; it was his home after all. But something uneasy settled in Dib's gut, and it gave him the instinct not to trust Zim just yet.

Dib simply replied, "No."

"But...but you just said you can't keep me here!" Dib shrugged.

Zim stiffened and pushed away from the table. The chair scratched hard on the floor due to his weight. Zim stood and stretched his spine, bulging his pregnant protrusion out and cracking the bones in his back. Dib cringed at the sound, but Zim seemed pleased at the effect. He wanted to bend his spine down, but his damned belly wouldn't let him. Dib got up and threw his finished soda in the trash, and Zim headed for the living room. He took a few steps towards the couch, but he suddenly felt like walking around when each step sent a pleasing sensation up his legs and into his abdomen.

Dib noticed Zim's confusion when he paced to the couch, turned, and walked in an irregular pattern across the room.

Eh, he's just confused that I won't give him the base yet. I'm surprised he isn't angrier. Dib opened the cabinets to find something for dinner. He rifled through the boxes and cans and pulled out a box of instant mashed potatoes. Ok, what goes with mashed potatoes? Little green peas, something with meat...

About an hour later Dib had whipped up a classic meal. Mashed potatoes, peas, fresh bread, and what looked like Zim to be...well, he didn't know what it was, but it smelled good.

"It's meatloaf, not like the kind at school, but the good kind." Dib grinned and dug into the still hot loaf. Zim questioned the aesthetics of the "meat loaf" but since it had a favorable odor, he decided to try it, and on the first bite, he fell in love.

"You know," Dib said with a mouthful of peas, "this is the first time we've eaten together in a long time." He swallowed. "I think Gaz was here last time." Dib smiled directly at Zim, who only frowned in return. He did not see the significance of eating together.

Dib ignored the frown. It was one of the first traits that Dib had learned to live with. Zim wasn't always a pleasant person to be around, and Dib accounted that seemingly anti-social behavior with the fact that Zim lived alone and had, in a sense, always been alone as a soldier. Everything came together now. Zim never had parents. He was raised and taught by machines, he came from a place that disregarded individuality and praised collectivity, and most importantly, he was never taught the importance of sympathy or love. Dib knew that Zim knew what love and friendship was, but when the necessities of the emotions failed to have a practical application in his Invader lifestyle, then what was the purpose of remembering or acknowledging them?

Dib was torn. Zim wasn't a bad person nor he was a good person; he was sitting there eating his meatloaf like a person who'd grown up eating meatloaf. Zim was ingrained with beliefs handed down for thousands of years: conquer. Conquer. That was it. The end all. Being an Invader put one apart from the mass of Irkens, most of whom would never become more than technicians or low caste battle soldiers sent in droves to war like a plague of locusts.

But Zim became something. He became an Invader because he wanted attention and praise and glory. Did he care that people died? Probably not. That made him a bad person, but wanting affection certainly made him more human than Dib could ever imagine.

But, Dib wondered, where is his affection?

That aside (affection being low on Dib's list of things to do with Zim) Dib began thinking of the baby and the few months that remained. First of all, he had to work with the computer to set up the birthing process (that being at the top of the list). He certainly had to get Zim in for some more tests to see what kind of painkillers would be acceptable, for they would certainly be necessary, and when it came to drugs, there was no room for error with the half-human, half-Irken baby.

Zim probably would not care, but Dib also thought of names for their son.

Every name that came to him seemed either inappropriate or stupid and other various adjectives in between. Dib caught himself daydreaming about his son and how it would affect his life. School was no problem. I'm a genius! Dib said often, to himself, and as his father already accepted his "independent study," Dib knew that employment would be no factor.

Which reminded him. Hehe, better give dad some more wormhole specs.

Then...Oh crap! How will I tell dad I have a son...who's half alien? Wait, I'm...I'm going to be a father! I haven't thought about that yet either! I mean, I have, but it hasn't really settled until now. Dib put away the leftover meal. What if I'm a bad father? Nah. I'll be fine. Just...my life will be put on hold. And what if dad...no, can't think about bad things. Dad would never hurt someone, not even his half-alien grandchild, I hope, but there's always a chance. I should tell him as soon as possible.

That means exposing Zim though. Dib glanced nervously at Zim, who finally sat to watch TV. Well, he no longer has a say in this. This baby is more important than him. After this Zim can do whatever the hell he wants. I'll give his base back and maybe his spaceship so he can leave if...

Something deep inside Dib snapped. It was a fluttering in his stomach like he was falling in a too lucid dream. Zim, in the corner of his eye. Zim, so, so unhappy. Dib knew there was nothing he could do to make Zim happy or make him care about his own child, and when he left, which he would, he would leave behind earth and never think about it again. Dib would be left all alone with a single reminder of Zim, their child, who would grow up and eventually ask where he came from, who he came from, and then, where would the answers be? It might be easier for Zim to leave, not caring, but it was so much harder on Dib who cared too much.

Dib didn't want Zim to leave. He needed Zim to stay. He needed Zim. Period.

Wow, that's...that's a weird feeling.

Zim was glad Dib left for the day, but even more so, glad that Dib left the front door unlocked. It was a gesture that was not lost on Zim, who fumbled with the idea of leaving or staying inside. Now that Dib offered him freedom, unattended freedom, he was afraid. Zim was glad Dib left for the day, but even more so, glad that Dib left the front door unlocked. It was a gesture that was not lost on Zim, who fumbled with the idea of leaving or staying inside. Now that Dib offered him freedom, freedom, he was afraid.

Zim growled to himself. Dib's messed me up. Made me scared of going out! Well, I'm going anyway...I'll go...I'll go somewhere! Yes! I'll leave for good. I don't need Dib and this stupid base anyway.

HA! Dib will rue the day he set me free! Zim's frown turned to a wicked grin, teeth bared wide. He laughed and ignored the empty echo in the living room, ignored the harshness of the sound against his antennae. Turning the knob, Zim opened the door and stepped out with new intent.

About a block and a half later, Zim stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk and fell, scraping his hand to catch himself. He was suddenly jarred more awake than he already was, and the baby got a rush of adrenaline from his "mother," causing him to kick wildly. Zim hated when the baby kicked. It woke him from sleep, disturbed him while he ate and watched TV, and just plain creeped him out.

"Stop!" he barked at his belly but to no avail. Dusting himself off, Zim began walking while trying to ignore his baby's incessant presence.

Zim found himself alone on the sidewalk. The sky was blue, the sun shining, and the spring birds chirped from blooming trees. Flowers were blooming.

Life was happening, and Zim wasn't paying attention.

His scratched hand throbbed. That's what I get for not wearing gloves! Zim scolded himself and watched the scrape ooze a little blood. The very sight of his own green thick life made him sick and the bushes creeping over the sidewalk received his breakfast, lunch, and every snack in between...and the taste in his mouth! It was an amalgam of every flavor, disgusting. Feeling instantly drained of what little energy he had today, Zim sighed and turned back. He felt like his feet were dragging, but the sensation of walking felt good.

A light breeze swept over him. This feeling in his body, up his legs, across his abdomen, deep inside him...something twitched and it wasn't the baby kicking like he usually did. No, this was different. Zim lay a hand on the lump, wondering what was going on. Nothing dire occurred to him until he was a block from the base when a sharp pain hit him hard. He swooned and almost passed out, but he kept himself up by sheer will.

Ow. That was all he could think. Pure, plain hurt.

Well, Zim thought as he reentered the base, I haven't moved around that much in months.

Zim tried to convince himself that the pain was caused by the very short distance he had walked, and he supplanted his uneasiness with anger. It was just his luck that the first time he was out by himself something had to go wrong. Dib, of course, was at fault. By leaving him free, the human had jinxed him. Zim pouted briefly before succumbing to a sudden tiredness.

The little recliner in the corner received him. Zim curled up and fell asleep for what seemed like an eternity, but when he awoke, Dib was home and in reality it had only been about two hours. Feeling strangely refreshed, Zim slid off the chair and felt the hot blood in his body instantly rush to his head and course swiftly in his veins. Dib was half awake on the sofa and the news on the TV was muted.

Zim gave him a fleeting glance and Dib, who observed him with a lazy eye, watched Zim in return.

"Did you go out any?" Dib asked, seemingly uninterested.

"Yes, I did." Zim said with a hint of smugness.

"Where did you go?"

Zim huffed. "None of your business. You don't own me, Dib, smelly human. So where did you go? Giving my technology to your stupid—AH!"

"Whoa!" Dib jumped off the couch at the sound and at the gush of liquid coming from Zim who screamed at the unusual occurrence.

"Zim, stop, your water broke...I think." That only got more screaming.

"WATER? AHHHH!" Zim sobbed as he stepped away from the puddle, but it was already all over him. He was at a loss for more words, so he made piteous whines as Dib led him into the medlab.

"Zim calm down. I think you're in labor." But about four months premature, Dib added to himself.

"Mmm," Zim moaned. "It hurts." He felt the same spasm from earlier but substantially dulled.

"Come on, let's get to the medlab."

Zim shook his head no several times, backing away from Dib as he approached.

"Zim, come on!" With each stubborn step, the pain flared like a fire being fed dry sticks.

It burst with sudden violence, and all he could remember was Dib's arms around him.

Zim, Zim, Zim…

Zim heard a familiar voice. He tried to move, but he felt wobbly and weird. He was cold.

"Zim? Hey, you're awake. Don't try to move, the computer's already given you an epidural, just relax, okay?"

"Wha—" Zim moaned. "Epi—dur—"

"Epidural. Sssh." Zim felt something warm on his forehead. It smoothed back his antennae gently before leaving him bereft of the welcome sensation. The touch on his antennae aroused him some and allowed him to awaken more and open his eyes even wider. Dib was absorbed in looking at a console. Zim then realized why he was cold; his clothing had been removed and replaced by a lavender gown. Medlab.

I'm in the medlab, Zim thought. Why? Oh, I passed out from…Zim hissed from a sudden prick of pain in his abdomen. He tried to sit up, but Dib caught him and pushed him back down.

"I'm cold, Dib-human." Zim's teeth chattered as proof.

Without hesitation, Dib ordered a warm blanket, which he draped over a very thankful Zim.

"Am I hurt?"

"No, just in labor. I should have thought about last month's exams more. The computer said the baby was developing much faster than it had anticipated. Weird. I was just thinking about the pictures of him earlier today, you know, about how he looks." Dib smiled, but Zim did not return the sentiment.

Dib continued. "I would have ordered the computer to perform a caesarian, but I didn't want to cut you open without your permission. How do you want to do this?"

"I don't want to be cut open," Zim whispered, mesmerized by the strange half-numbness tinged with tiny spikes of pain gracing his body.

"Okay, uh, the old fashioned way then. Good thing you can't feel anything."

"On the contrary," Zim suddenly spat, "I felt pain just now."

"That's probably because the computer gave you the lowest level of painkillers it had. It said that the Irken drugs would probably hurt the baby, being half-human, but a little wouldn't hurt him. You on the other hand, might have to put up with a little pain."

"How long will this take?"

"Computer, what's his status?" Dib asked.

"Scans indicate he is in labor, but I cannot determine the dilation."

Frustrated, Dib yelled, "Determine it then!" As the computer raised the bed to set Zim almost in a sitting position, Zim felt a pressure in his belly, and as he spread his legs for the computer's probing arm, he felt the pressure grow and then silence suddenly. His feet were suspended in the stirrups used for the horrible, intrusive exams, but his entire angle was pointed down, thankfully, and he didn't feel so exposed as before. He'd never seen any humans giving birth, or Irkens, so he was partly curious and mortified about the experience. At any rate, he knew the baby would be coming out the same way it came in.

In as Dib's sperm and out as their baby through his narrow alien vagina.

Good, Zim thought, the sooner the better.

"Zim is dilated approximately eleven centimeters."

"Wow!" Dib exclaimed. "I think you're ready. You slept through most of your contractions too, which was like, all of ten minutes." Dib laughed despite the situation.

"Wait? Contractions? What's that? What does this meeeean?" Zim whined, and Dib grinned at his familiar, but annoying, behavior. Zim suddenly he felt the pressure come back; he felt the urge to push, a small pain blossomed. He pushed involuntarily but tried to stop the reaction which only caused the small pain to increase.

Dib asked of the grimace on Zim's face. "You okay?"

"It feels weird. I want to push...something."

"That's a contraction. Computer can he push yet?" Dib excitedly jumped to Zim's side and held one bent knee. Zim was in agony over Dib's gleeful attitude, but when he was given permission to push, he leaned forward over his bulging belly, as if to press the baby out, and pushed with nearly numb muscles. Somehow it seemed natural to turn on those muscles; it seemed natural to feel that pressure and to feel something move inside him.

"Come on," Dib said, "push hard." Zim took in a breath and pushed again. Nothing came out. Once, twice…several times later, the baby was hardly out. Zim was already exhausted. Perhaps it would have been easier to let the computer slice him open and tear the thing out.

Zim collapsed back onto the bed. "I can't do this, it's too hard."

"No, no!" Dib pulled him back up by his shoulders and looked into his weary red eyes. "You're not done and you're not giving up, you hear me? Push!" Zim's antennae reared back angrily. A good sign. "Push Zim or I'll stick my hand up you and pull it out!"

"What!"

"I'm kidding!" Dib yelled back. "Please, I know it's hard." Dib moved to stand in front of him to see the computer's arms working under the blanket.

Dib desperately wanted to see his baby being born. He wanted to unveil Zim's body to see new life come into this world. He wanted to receive him in his arms, not the cold robotic hands. Dib ordered the computer to prepare a sterile bath, which, like most things in the base, popped up from the floor next to him. He dipped his hands in the solution and dried his hands on the towel provided, and then, slipping his hands into a pair of gloves, gently grabbed the hem of the blanket. Dib ordered the robotic arms away.

Zim quit working. Their eyes met for a heated moment. Dib tested him and lifted the blanket a little, working upwards against Zim's passivity. Zim breathed heavily as Dib folded the blanket behind his crooked knees, and still, their eyes were locked to each other. Dib moved forward more and placed each hand on Zim's knee, each moving down into his inner thigh, and still, their eyes were locked. Dib swallowed a gush of saliva before he told Zim to push. He then looked down to the spot that existed for this very purpose. It was swollen and the inner pinkness, now a violent red, flowered out from its green lips in laborious arousal. Dib ignored the fluids that glazed his Irken parts. He only saw the red silken skin already parted to the door, flung wide open.

Dib wanted to touch, but he didn't. He observed something that was half-remembered in the haze of sex on the desk at school. That strange second slit, so tiny, right about the entrance and exit.

It was forgotten as Zim howled out in a harsh push. Dib looked back up, his musings, which only had taken about two seconds, seemed like forever to Zim, whose body was trying its best to expel the presence.

Dib didn't think it would take this long, especially considering he was completely ready. He looked back down and considered his hips. Maybe Zim was able to have a baby, but maybe his body wasn't really designed for this…another push. Zim's mouth was agape, no more groans came from him. He panted. Sweat glazed his body.

"Cut it out, Dib."

"I'm...are you sure?" Dib could see the uncertainty in his red eyes. "Push one more time."

Zim swallowed his pain. Yes once more. With a deep breath he pushed as hard as he could. All energy went into this one action. This one deep thrust from inside pushed at the baby's body. He was being crushed in the cervix, but slowly expelled from his warm prison, Zim's womb, he slid more and more, creeping into the world. Dib grinned when Zim's push crowned their son. Two tiny black antennae were plastered to his head.

"Come on Zim, he's coming. One more time, push!" Zim obeyed. He had no other senses but Dib's leading voice.

Again he pushed.

A gush of blood, fluids, other things followed the infant as Dib received his tiny form. Zim collapsed on the bed, but he was aware of Dib and the crying thing in his arms. Dib looked at the baby, so, so tiny, but vivacious like Zim. The computer swept down, cut the umbilical cord, and immediately began cleaning on Dib's command. He ordered an incubator and reluctantly laid the baby in it for inspection and cleaning. Dib too was covered in some of the afterbirth, but this moment made him forget, not care. All he cared about was the beautiful little creature.

"He looks completely Irken," Zim said gruffly.

"He looks like you," Dib responded with a smile. The computer made quick work of Zim, cleaning him and refitting his gown. It made sure nothing abnormal happened to him in the wake of the birth, but he seemed fine, though very tired.

"I'm glad it didn't take as long as I thought it would," Dib said. He hovered over Zim.

"Ha," Zim spat weakly, "it was longer for me."

"Yeah, I guess." The computer alerted Dib to the newborn, whose vitals were as perfect as his baby pink eyes. Zim said offhandedly that the pink would redden and added that he never had to put up with the inconvenience of such weakness. Dib rolled his eyes and took the baby from the incubator. He was wrapped in a soft blanket.

"Aww," Dib cooed. "He's so cute." The boy blinked his pink eyes, but saw very little besides milky forms. Dib turned to Zim with the bundle and presented their son.

"Do you want to hold him?" Dib asked cautiously.

It would be harmless to hold it just once. Zim didn't fear getting attached to the thing. After all, he resolved to do just the opposite, but the presence of the child was tempting and for sheer curiosity Zim allowed Dib to gently lay him in his arms. His weight was light. Zim calculated each feature of his son, each dip of his lip, the curve of his face, the antennae, the eyes...Zim's face crinkled in confusion.

"This child is not male."

"Huh?"

"It is female." Dib peered at his newborn. It looked male, but that was only because the computer had said so and his only good reference was Zim, a paradigm of Irken maleness.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"The antennae are beginning to curl and the eyes have a retro-ocular pupil."

"Oh...huh?" Zim sighed. "Irken females are born with a retro-ocular pupil that allows them to have greater depth perception. The Empire long ago required all soldiers, male and female, to have ocular implants to balance this. I can tell by the deep set pupil." Zim tried to point out the pupil, but it was lost on Dib as he became mesmerized by the many facets in her eyes.

"I guess," Dib began, "the only explanation is that the computer was just going off her body, which from its point of view, is male, by Irken standards...yeah." Dib nodded at his theory.

"Hmm," Zim Zim lifted the girl, a gesture that he was done holding her. Dib took her gently, rocking her naturally.

"Guess I need to think of some new names."

Zim watched Dib hold their daughter lovingly, so happily, as he looked on, alone.

tbc...