OK SO THIS TOOK A WHILE. I apologize for that. Senior Year is coming up fast and I have art homework for before the semester starts! So this had to be done between that, but I am finally happy with it, so enjoy!
Part 17: Rest
Dib stepped into the base and dropped his bag by the door. He kicked the door shut. He saw Zim sitting on the couch, slouched over half of it. "Hey."
"Hey."
Dib sat at his feet, snatching up the remote. "How are you feeling?" Dib asked, flipping channels. Zim groaned, putting a pillow over his face.
"I feel… ill," Zim said. He turned over, groaning.
"The pain meds again?" Dib asked. He looked over to see the pillow nodding. Dib stifled a laugh and made himself comfortable. "Your PAK is being overprotective."
"It is thorough," Zim mumbles. "But, Zim would prefer if they weren't so strong they caused him nausea. It feels as if my squidly-spooch is going to fight its way out."
"Yeah, that's being sick for you. Actually… that's something I was wondering," Dib began. Zim groaned loudly, over exaggerating purposefully. Dib chuckled. "Oh, come on, now. Does it supply its own medicine? Like, does it manufacture it?"
"Yes," Zim mumbles. "It runs Zim's body. As was explained months ago."
"I remember. It's part of your body, attached at birth, stores everything Irken there is-"
"Unless the Irken was defective."
"Right, unless… wait, what?!"
"UGH, Dib-stink do not screech!" Zim shouts, kicking out at Dib. He hits him scare in the side, knocking the wind out of him momentarily. Dib clutched at his ribs, rubbing the sore spot.
"Ow. What does that mean? Defective?"
"Why are you so interested? Zim simply means that the Control Brains can choose what PAKs get added to the collective. If they are defective, they are not added. Zim's will likely not be added upon death."
Dib stared at him, mouth gaping. He had to pull himself out of it and shake his head. "Zim, that's kind of messed up."
"Zim does not make the decision," Zim clarifies. Dib slumps back into the couch.
"So, all your memories and ideas and being is just going to… disappear when you die? It's not going to go back those Control Brains?" Dib asks. At the sullen tone Zim looked past the pillow to him. He sighed, stretching his legs over Dib's lap.
"Likely. By then perhaps Zim can upload the information to a hard drive… but, by then Zim may be done with living. But as I said, there is an afterlife for us. I will not completely disappear," Zim says. Dib sighs and crosses his arms.
"I know, I just- hey, you use the word 'I'!" Dib exclaims, sitting up so fast Zim's legs were flung from the couch.
"GAH! Dib-stink!" Zim shouts. He swings his legs back, forcing Dib back against the couch.
"Sorry, sorry! I just noticed it!" Dib says excitedly. Zim hums at him, going back to the pillow. Dib saw his breathing start to even out. "Going to sleep again?"
"Mmm."
"Is that how the PAK heals you?" Dib asks. Zim hums again, seeming to think of his answer. Dib was patient, knowing Zim would just answer when he woke up if he fell asleep on him.
"Yes," Zim finally says. "Speeds up the healing process just like the medications. Zim prefers it much more to the medications."
"Except for the fact the medications keep you from being in a haze of pain rather than nausea," Dib explains. He hears Zim scoff.
"Maybe so."
Dib smirks. "I told the teachers your whole family came down with a strong illness. They gave me all your homework. How's your shoulder?"
"Healing well, given it's only been just over 36 hours," Zim says. Dib nods, looking over to where he could see the bandages peeking out from Zim's shirt.
"I remember you do heal incredibly fast," Dib says. "We've broken each other bones before, if I recall. Though… I'm a little upset yours are harder to break."
"Hmph. Irken bodies are manufactured to be more resilient," Zim boasts. He heard Dib snort and eyed him angrily. "What's so funny?"
"You can't even handle water."
Zim sat up straight, throwing every pillow in his reach at Dib's head. "YOUR EARTH WATER IS FILTHY, THAT'S WHY. AND YOUR PROCESSED MEAT. AND YOUR BEANS! CURSE YOUR DAMN BEANS! WHAT KIND OF FOOD BURNS SKIN?!"
"You have alien skin, that's not our fault! Besides, it kills parasites! You have an advantage in that!"
Dib threw the pillow back at Zim, who caught it easily. Dib tilted his head, getting a better view of Zim's hands. "Short gloves? I didn't know you had any."
"Keeps Zim cool to have shorter gloves," the alien says curtly. He fluffs the pillow, setting it back under his head and flopping down.
Dib agreed, knowing that the Irken would want something to keep himself cool. He wondered for a moment if he was running a fever. If he knew how to check an Irken for a fever he would. Dib waited until Zim's breathing had slowed and evened out before he looked up to the ceiling.
"Hey, computer."
"What?"
"How's the security guard? The secretary seemed worried when he didn't show up for his shift."
"Recovering in his cell. At this rate, his memory will have to be wiped for several days' time."
"Oh. You might want to fabricate an email that tells the school he's come down with food poisoning, or something. Or they'll start to get suspicious," Dib says, kicking his legs.
He wondered, briefly, if giving an alien AI system the idea to forge emails was the best idea he'd ever had. It wasn't. But it was a necessary one. He tried to push the thought from his mind and flipped to a channel showing movies. He settled in until Zim woke up. He hoped the Irken wouldn't be so nauseous he couldn't play games.
Zim woke up to Dib's snoring. He groggily looked past the pillow to see Dib sprawled on the couch with him. A quick glance outside confirmed it was night. He couldn't be sure of the time, but it didn't quite matter if Dib was going to stay over. Zim figured he had already decided to, and he wasn't going to be able to get rid of him easily. He opted to let the human stay, it was too much effort when he wasn't fully healed yet.
He carefully slipped off the couch so as not to make any noise. He was starving. Zim walked to the closest entrance to the lower levels of the base. He absentmindedly wondered if perhaps he should use the fridge like Dib had suggested once weeks ago. He kept his food in a cold storage as it was. According to Dib it was for the same purpose. He'd do that later. He was too hungry—and still waking up—to care right now.
He rode the elevator in a haze. Zim didn't notice until he was at the food stores that his PAK had opted to carry him there itself. One of the limbs was already opening the door to the stores and grabbing a snack when Zim snapped back to reality. He took the snack gratefully, hardly hesitating in biting down. As the PAK turned him away the same limb jabbed into three more snacks, storing them inside itself for later. Zim heard the door to the food stores shut.
"HEY!"
The voice rang down from the halls, angry. Zim sighed. He'd forgotten the guard.
"HEEEY! GET OVER HERE, YOU BASTARD! YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE ME HERE FOREVER!"
Zim could, if he was being honest. But, that would undeniably upset Dib. Zim thought about just going back up the stairs. The computer had already been set on a cycle of when to feed the man. Zim paused. He should check on the man's progress of recovery. He realized he hadn't seen him since he'd shot him…
Zim let his PAK set him down and began to walk to the cells. It took him some time, as he was sluggish. The guard shouted profanity at him the entire walk. When Zim finally reached his cell he had taken to shouting down the opposite end of the hall.
"Do not insult yourself by thinking I came because of your shouts," Zim began, startling the guard. The guard was on the other end of the cell's door in no time, face red with anger. Though, Zim could see his complexion was still pale compared to the day he'd caught him in the school's halls.
"Let me out of here if you're not going to kill me," he demanded. "Of at the very least fight me, or dissect me, or do something other than leave me here to rot! Hey! Are you listening to me?!"
Zim surveyed him, not responding. He was almost completely cured, despite the ashy skin tone. Zim noted that the near 48 hours still wasn't long enough for the cure to take full effect. Given that the guard was nearly dead when he arrived, however, the mixture had to have been more potent than he'd anticipated.
"…You look like shit," the guard says, his tone a mix of spiteful and pride that it was his fault. Zim suppressed a growl.
"And you smell like it, though perhaps Zim should be grateful you figured out the plumbing system," Zim says, leaning against the hall's wall. The guard grunted to him, turning away. "You do, however, appear to be recovering well."
That seemed to make something in the guard snap. "Oh?! 'Recovering well'?! Only because of what you did to me! …What did you do to me? Am I going to grow an extra limb?"
Zim chuckled at the absurd implication. "Definitely not. It was not my intention to infect you. I had warned you about taking my glove," Zim says, picking at the tips of his fingers under the thick fabric. The guard appeared uneasy at the sight of the hands.
"What'd ya do, then? It felt like… like…"
"Like your inside were beginning to melt? That is not precisely what was happening, but it is close enough, Zim supposes. It had not been intentional, as was said. Though, Zim did get the chance to see how effective Irken venom is against human DNA. Based on your current state you should be fine by the time I am also healed," Zim explains plainly. The guard glares at him.
"And then you'll kill me, eh? I'm not stupid, I know you can't just let me walk out of here, being an alien an all," he says. Zim perks up an antennae at that.
"Zim did not say he'd kill you. If Zim wanted you dead Zim would have let the venom finish its work. That was why Zim brought you here. Not that you were very helpful in that matter-"
"YOU GET KIDNAPPED BY AN ALIEN AND SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!" he shouts. "You panic and then you choose fight or flight, that's how it works!"
"Why did you have a weapon? Zim is curious. You were in your own yard."
"In the middle of nearly nowhere," the guard explains. "Most people who live far out have one. Why are you even questioning that? YOU'RE the one who kidnapped me!"
"To heal you, as was said," Zim explains, growing impatient. He pushes himself off the wall. "Regardless, you will not remember."
Zim ignored the guard's questions as he made his way back to the elevator. He could feel himself starting to wind down again now that he'd eaten. He'd deal with the guard tomorrow. On his way back up to the main level, Zim had to admit one thing. He had underestimated how dangerous humans other than Dib could be.