Earth. A tiny planet in one of the farthest corners of the galaxy, one that most of the universe was content to simply ignore. Many were unaware of the fierce battle between two beings over the planet's fate…even most if its inhabitants were unaware.
Still, the two beings continuously clashed—one a human determined to be a hero and prove himself right, the other an Irken determined to claim the planet for his empire.
Years flew by, battle after battle, both of their lives becoming almost inseparably entangled…until one incident would change everything.
"Ugh, Ziiiiim!" Dib shouted. Unfortunately, the target of his anger had already quickly fled in his Voot Cruiser, leaving Dib alone in a field to walk home after their latest battle. He hesitated for a few seconds, to see if Zim would come back to gloat…but the alien was long gone.
He sighed, tucked his hands into the pockets of his trenchcoat, and began his trek back home. It wouldn't be the first time he had to walk home alone at night. He looked up, taking in the stars that stretched across the night sky.
He was almost out of high school, graduation just a few months away. He might have only barely been passing, since his time was dedicated more to stopping Zim and finding cryptids, but what did it matter? He wasn't planning on going to college. Not when Zim was still around and someone needed to stop him.
Zim. The thought of the alien made him scowl, his heart twisting. Somehow, the alien had made it through all these years of school without anyone realizing what he was. Even though he stayed the same height while everyone grew rapidly, and he still managed to go up grades while failing his courses, no one seemed to give him a second thought.
Dib clenched his hand into a fist. Well, not him, he vowed! He always had an eye on Zim. If the alien so much as started plotting, he would catch wind of it and stop him. He wouldn't—
His vow renewal was interrupted when he burst into a loud coughing fit. "Ugh," he groaned once he had caught his breath. He didn't feel very sick, but just a week ago, he had started bursting into random coughing fits, his chest tightening during the middle of them.
It was just an annoying cold, really. Plus, it had the benefit of Zim retreating in horror anytime he coughed—
Another wave of coughing hit him, this one much harder than the first. Dib doubled over, clapping a hand over his mouth as he felt an ache in his chest, a tickling scratch along his throat.
But this fit quickly passed, like all the others. He took a deep breath, pulling his hand away…and quickly seeing the pink petals that had stuck to his palm.
He stared wide-eyed at his palm, even after a small breeze tore the petals away. He could have told himself that they were from some nearby flower or tree, like anyone else around would have told him. But he knew those cherry blossom petals could only have come from him.
Swallowing, he swore he could feel more petals tickling the very back of his throat. Maybe it was just his imagination, but he knew there was something there. And he felt as though he had read about something similar to this when he was younger…
He quickly broke into a jog, mind already racing with where to begin his search once he got home.
It was around midnight when he finally made it back to the house. Anyone inside was either asleep or, potentially in Gaz's case, busy with some online MMO raid. Fortunately, that meant Dib was able to slip into his room and start his research right away, without anyone lecturing him on the importance of showering or sleeping or eating.
He quickly logged into the Swollen Eyeballs network, searching their databases for anything connected to coughing and petals. While he pulled those up, he logged onto some other sites, as well, pulling up anything he could possibly find.
It took him the rest of the night, and most of the morning, but his hard research paid off. He found the cause of him coughing up petals, and what would happen if it was left unchecked.
The Hanahaki Disease—a prime example of an infliction caused by magic instead of a contagion. Flowers would grow in the victim's chest, making them cough up petals. If it wasn't cured, they would cover their throat and lungs, choking them. No one knew how it appeared, but all of its victims had one thing in common.
"Unrequited love!" Dib rambled to his sister in the living room, ignoring how she was only half paying attention. "Each victim until now has held unreturned affections for someone else. The return of their feelings is one of the only known two cures."
Gaz finally lowered her game enough to raise an eyebrow. "'Until now'?"
"I'm not in love with anyone," he answered, placing a hand on his chest. He cleared his throat, feeling petals tickling the back of it. "Not romantically, at least. This could be an all-new variant of the disease, one that could infect everyone!"
He scowled, gritting his teeth. "Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Zim decided to create something like this..."
Just the thought of it made his chest squeeze in anxiety. He could already feel the roots taking hold...another coughing fit escaped him, sending a flurry of pink petals to the floor.
"Seriously? The thought of Zim is making it worse, but you haven't put the pieces together?" Gaz asked with a raised eyebrow.
Dib coughed a few more times, then scooped up the petals and slipped them into a plastic bag. "You're right," he said, tucking the bag away in his pocket. "This may not be the real Hanahaki disease at all! It's probably one of Zim's plans to stop me."
He stormed out of the room, shaking a fist in the air. "But now that I've figured it out, I'll stop him before this can happen to anyone else!" He darted off, still coughing all the while and leaving a few petals in his wake.
"That's not…" Gaz started to say. But her brother was already gone. She sighed and rolled her eyes, starting her game again. "Whatever. I tried to tell you."
"Zim!" Dib shouted, furiously pounding on the alien's front door and ignoring the itch in his throat. "I know what you did to me! I won't fall for any of your tricks again!"
After a few more moments of pounding, the door finally opened just a crack. Zim, in his horrible disguise, glared up at him. Thanks to Dib's growth spurt, he now practically towered over the short alien. "What is it now, Dib-worm?" he growled. "Come to taste your defeat again so soon at the hands of the Almighty Zim!?"
Dib shoved his way forward, pointing an accusing finger in Zim's face. Zim hissed, rearing back and looking at his hand with disgust. "I know what you did to me," Dib repeated, glaring back. "And you won't defeat me that easily, Zim!"
Zim seemed to perk up. "Oh, did the robot brain worms finally take root? Excellent!"
"What? No. I found those the night after you put them under my pillow and confiscated them."
"Oh." Zim's shoulders sagged in disappointment. "Was it the—"
Impatient, Dib pulled out the bag of petals and thrust it in front of Zim's face, where his nose would be. The alien went cross-eyed to look at it. "I'm talking about these, stupid bug."
Zim snatched the bag away from him, opening it and pulling out a petal. He examined it carefully with a narrowed eye. "This looks like one of your puny Urth plants," he said. "Zim doesn't remember doing anything with something like this…"
"Well, someone had to have!"
Zim sneered at him. "Oh, please. There's probably plenty of beings who would love to take out your big head with…whatever this is." He threw a handful of the petals in Dib's face, cackling when Dib huffed and brushed them off.
Something in his chest was tightening, and it squeezed a little harder at the sound of Zim's laughter. The itch in his throat was too much to ignore, and his chest heaved as he broke into yet another coughing fit. This one lasted for a full minute, flurries of petals pouring out of his mouth and at Zim's feet.
When he finally stopped, he inhaled sharply, filling his lungs with air and standing up straight again. He hadn't even realized he had bent over. Another small cough to clear his throat—it dislodged a few petals, but he could still feel the itch—and he turned his attention to Zim.
The alien was staring at him in horror, gaze slowly shifting between him and the petals at his feet…and finally to the bag in his hand, half-full of petals that he had touched.
Before Dib could say anything, Zim loudly shrieked in disgust and horror, throwing the bag at Dib's face and slamming the door closed. He kept screaming, but Dib could only make out something about 'those disgusting germs'.
He paused, but it seemed that Zim wasn't coming back out. With a shrug, he picked up the bag, filled it with a few more of the petals, and headed back home.
"I just don't understand it," Dib said as he paced back and forth. Gaz was on the couch, occasionally glancing up at him from her game. "If it's not part of one of Zim's plans—" A brief coughing fit. "—and it's not the real Hanahaki Disease, then what is it?"
"…you're sure it's not the actual disease?" Gaz asked with a sigh.
"Yes! I'd need to be in love with someone for that to be the case," Dib said in exasperation.
Gaz gave him a look, snapping her game closed. "You really don't get it, do you?"
"Get what!?"
"Think about it, Dib!" she snapped. "You realized you had this disease last night, right? Who were you hanging around before that? Who is it that when you think about them, it makes the coughing worse?" She paused before adding, "Who have you been obsessed with since we were all kids?"
"…Zim?" He gave her an incredulous look. "But, I don't—"
His chest tightened, and he realized that it might not entirely be because of the flowers that were growing there. Zim was almost always on his mind, even if it was just trying to think of ways to expose him or stop his latest evil plan.
And yet, he already knew he would be miserable if Zim wasn't in his life in some way. Despite their frequent battles, he really didn't want to grievously hurt Zim. And he recalled a few times where he and Zim had been forced to work together, or Zim had saved him from some danger and caused his heart to pound…
"Oh, lord," he managed to say before his chest was painfully constricted, and he began to cough loudly. He fell to his knees, trying to catch the deluge of petals that spilled out of him, though he only managed to get a few fistfuls.
He continued to kneel on the ground even after his coughing had ended, taking several breaths in and out. Petals were stuck on his hands, on the front of his shirt and coat, and scattered on the carpet before him. He heard footsteps, and he glanced up to see Gaz approach him.
She gave him a rough pat on the back, forcing another cough out of him and dislodging some more petals. "…you're right," he told her, voice still raspy. "I think…I think I love…" He lightly coughed a few times, though the pain in his chest wasn't nearly as bad as during the initial realization.
Gaz gave his back a few more pats. "…if it's the real disease, how do you get rid of it? You mentioned something about cures."
"Y-Yeah." He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Supposedly the 'easiest' way is for the object of your affections to return your feelings." His mind drifted to Zim, and he swallowed the petals welling up in his throat. "That one's not going to work."
"And why not? For supposed enemies, you two can act awfully chummy with each other."
"That's not the same," he said. "I mean, sure, we're not always fighting. Maybe we've had a truce or two, and maybe we sometimes help each other—" Coughing, more petals. "…but that's a tenuous friendship at best. Not love."
He wrapped his arms around himself. "I'm not even sure if Zim could feel love. Or that he wouldn't try to use…my feelings against me if he found out about them."
Gaz gave him a sympathetic look. "…there's another option, though?"
Dib nodded. "The flowers can be surgically removed. But…" He swallowed. "That also gets rid of your feelings for that person. There are even a few recorded cases where the victim loses all their feelings, becoming completely emotionless."
He forced out a dry laugh. "Not exactly the best position I've been in, huh?"
Gaz didn't say anything, but she knelt beside him and pulled him into a one-armed hug. Dib sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head against her shoulder. His entire body felt heavy, his exhaustion finally catching up to him.
"'M sorry," he mumbled just before he fell asleep on her, his breath shaky even as he drifted off.
When he finally woke up, he was lying on the couch, and evening light was streaming in through the windows. "Oh, good, you're up," Gaz said from the other side of the couch. "For a second I thought comas might be a symptom you hadn't mentioned."
"Nngh…no, I'm just tired," he said, sitting up and stretching. His sudden nap made him feel a little better, but there was still a dull ache in his chest, a tickle at the back of his throat…and an empty feeling in his stomach.
At least the last one had an easy fix. He stood up and wandered into the kitchen, where a plate of pizza was waiting for him on the table. After taking a minute to heat it up, he headed back to the couch with it, already gnawing on it.
He and Gaz sat in silence, only the chimes from her game filling the air. "So," she said after he polished off his first slice. "What are you going to do?"
"Not sure." He took a few more bites out of his next slice before answering, "I'll try to tell Dad. Talk to him about getting a surgery."
"You really think he'll believe you?" She rose an eyebrow. "A magic disease caused by unrequited love sounds very…unscientific."
Dib grimaced. "As long as I can convince him to at least examine me, the flowers should be evidence enough."
They lapsed into silence again, but only briefly. "…not even going to try to talk to Zim?"
Dib started coughing, almost choking on the pizza and the petals. But he quickly cleared his airway, even if it meant spitting the greasy wad onto his plate. "…not if I can help it," he answered after a few more coughs to clear his throat. "It wouldn't work, and it'd just give him more ammunition over me, anyway."
Gaz hummed thoughtfully, but didn't have any more to say. Dib finished his pizza, doing his best to ignore the dull throbbing in his throat and chest.
As soon as he had eaten his fill, he headed upstairs and tried to call his dad. Unsurprisingly, he didn't pick up, but he could at least leave a message.
He paced back and forth, rambling about the Hanahaki Disease and how he needed a surgery to cure himself of it, preferably as soon as possible. He went on enough tangents that the recording was at least five minutes long.
He hung up and waited a few hours. Showered, dressed for bed, considered checking his camera feeds from Zim's base. Changed his mind when the thought of seeing Zim made him cough up more petals.
His dad hadn't messaged him back yet. He called again, leaving a much briefer message about how he thought he had the Hanahaki Disease, and could he please examine him? Went to his computer, printed every file he had on the disease. Drank several glasses of water, laid in bed and willing himself to ignore the crawling sensation inside him.
At some point, he fell asleep. When he finally woke up in the morning, petals straw over his pillow from when he had coughed in his sleep, his first thought was to check his phone. Still nothing.
He called again, only got his dad's voicemail again. "…Dad? Please help me. Soon."
Both he and Gaz were surprised when their dad slammed open the front door around lunchtime. "Dib?" he called, making his way into the kitchen. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Dad…for now, at least," he answered as Professor Membrane fussed over him, feeling his forehead for a fever and opening his mouth to peer at his throat. "But the Hanahaki Disease can progress quickly, and—"
His dad sighed. "Son—"
"Dad, please, just look!" He pulled out everything he had found on the disease, and the full bag of pink petals. "This disease is real, I swear! I've been coughing these up since yesterday!"
To his disappointment, his dad didn't even glance through his research…though he at least looked at the petals with some curiosity. "Hmm. These could have gotten stuck in your throat from some local plant, but there's quite a large volume of them."
"That's not even all of them," Gaz said. "He's been coughing them up all over the house."
His dad rose an eyebrow. "You've seen it, Gazalene?" She nodded to confirm it. "Hmm. Well, it's still hard to believe it without seeing it for myself."
"…I'll see if I can force it," Dib offered. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply through his nose, searching for a fond memory of Zim. The first thing he thought of only happened a few weeks ago—when his fruitless hunt for a ghoul had led to him stumbling home covered in deep scratches from branches, and a bloody nose thanks to him tripping over a tree root.
Zim had swung by that night, climbing in through his bedroom window. For what reason, Dib still didn't know. But when he saw Dib shuffling into his room, beaten down from nature and his own bad luck, he had immediately become frantic, demanding to know who Dib had been fighting.
Once he was told that there wasn't a fight, just a failed cryptid hunt, he had laughed, and…started patching up his scratches. Dib had only stood there, confused as Zim applied disinfectant and covered each scratch in bandages, all while telling Dib what a fool he was, asking how he managed to do anything with that big, clumsy head of his—
Dib's chest tightened and burned, and he started to cough. A large flurry of pink petals flew out of his mouth, some landing in his dad's hands while most scattered to the ground.
His dad's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "My goodness," he said, staring down at the petals he held. "This really is…strange. Very strange."
"Do you believe me now?" Dib asked, voice raspy. He couldn't hide the glint of hope he felt. If he could convince his dad this disease was real, what else could he prove from there?
"This…disease you described isn't scientifically possible," his dad said. "But this is still very unusual."
He pulled out a Petri dish and shook the petals on his hands into it. "Come! We'll go into my lab and find the source of these petals."
Dib sighed as they headed into the basement lab. At least he was getting help.
His dad started by initiating a DNA analysis on the petals, then asking Dib questions while giving him a physical exam, ending with an X-ray. It all worked out that all the results came back at around the same time—the genome of the petals and the X-ray images.
Dib stared at the images hanging on the wall. Under his ribs, it clearly showed that roots were digging their way into his lungs, flowers sprouting at the very bottom and creeping their way up. Though color wasn't shown, he was fairly certain those flowers had pink petals.
"It's some form of…parasitic plant," his dad rambled, gaze flicking between the images and his monitor. "With DNA remarkably similar to the Prunus genus…incredible! This appears to be a totally undiscovered species!"
Dib sighed, coughing lightly. His dad quickly whirled back around and approached him, sheepishly twiddling his fingers. "Of course, ah…like all parasites, there will be a way to remove it. I promise."
"Like surgery?" Dib suggested.
His dad frowned. "Well…that is an option, of course. But there are a few other methods I'd like to attempt, first." He headed back to his workstation. "Perhaps a mixture of antibiotics and herbicides…when did you acquire this parasite, anyway?"
"I just noticed it a few nights ago," Dib answered. "It was probably present before that, though. Reports say sometimes people don't notice they're sick with the Hanahaki Disease until they come close to admitting their feelings to themselves."
His father sighed, even as he mixed various chemicals together. "Son, the Hanahaki Disease is a fable. A myth. While this might be similar, there is a much more scientific explanation for this than just…being in love."
"…though perhaps we could name this new species after the fake disease! Prunus hanahaki…or would you rather it be named after you?"
"Whatever," Dib responded with a sigh, laying back and closing his eyes. Oh, well. At least his father was helping. Perhaps he would be lucky and one of his father's ideas would actually get rid of the disease!
He didn't have high hopes, though. There were plenty of stories of people that tried various other methods, with none succeeding.
He opened his eyes when his dad approached him, holding out two capsules filled with a clear liquid. "Take these," he ordered. "We'll make note of any changes to the parasite tomorrow, then possibly alter the dosages."
Dib eyed the capsules warily for a moment, then popped them in his mouth and swallowed them. "Do I have to go the school?" That would mean seeing Zim, which he wasn't keen on.
His dad's brow furrowed. "I'd prefer to keep you at home, for your safety. And to observe if any sudden changes in your condition occur. I'll talk to the school, get your homework for you."
"…thanks, Dad." Dib paused for a moment before giving his dad a brief hug (which was returned), then heading back upstairs.
The first few days passed by in a blur. Dib completed any homework with ease, and allowed himself to be continuously examined, occasionally asked to cough up petals for more tests.
Professor Membrane had contacted several other scientists to study this phenomenon, and all of them were fairly stumped on what to do. In the lab, Dib would catch glimpses of the petals on Petri dishes and in different vials filled with chemicals, his dad's screens filled with notes and hypotheses.
X-rays were done every other day. The volume of petals he coughed up was carefully recorded. His dad tried different dosages of medicine. Nothing changed, though the flowers slowly creeped and spread through his lungs, a few more petals coughed up each time.
Nothing changed, until the third day he spent at home.
It was in the evening, after dinner, and when his dad has ceased testing for the day, insisting he get plenty of rest to fight the parasite. Dib mindlessly scrolled through new reports from the Swollen Eyeballs, checking if there was any local paranormal activity he could look into.
A familiar scrabbling sound at his window made him freeze, whipping around in his chair. A disguised Zim pried open the window with his claws and pulled himself inside, glaring angrily at Dib.
"Where have you been!?" he said, pointing almost accusingly at Dib. "The school says you're sick at home, but those are LIES! You've fought me before even when covered in those filthy disgusting germs, and you look healthy!"
Dib wheezed, his lungs and throat burning at the sight of Zim, angry and passionate. He took a long, slow sip of water to force down the petals he felt bubbling up. He smirked as Zim's annoyance and impatience visibly grew.
"…I have been sick," he said once he was sure he wouldn't begin coughing.
"YOU LIE!" Still, Zim edged a little further away from him. "…sick with what, Dib-thing?"
For a brief moment, Dib was tempted to spill everything. Confess, tell him about the Hanahaki Disease, accept the fact that he would be laughed at, possibly forever. The flowers in his chest shivered and twisted, urging him to do it.
But the rational part of him won out. He couldn't tell Zim. He wouldn't.
"…sick of your face," he answered with a cocky grin.
Zim gasped sharply, gaping at him for several seconds, shocked and offended. When he plopped on the edge of Dib's bed, looking ready to make himself at home, Dib frowned and stood up, cup of water in hand.
"Hey, shoo," he said, shaking the cup at him threateningly. The alien hissed, crawling backwards and away from the water.
"You dare attack Zim!?"
"I will if you don't leave."
Zim hissed again, perching in the windowsill. He pointed at Dib again. "Zim orders you to recover from this…illness of yours and return to school immediately!" he barked. "Don't disobey Zim."
With that, he leapt out, PAK legs extending before he landed. He scuttled off into the shadows of the city before Dib could even think about getting a photo of them.
He frowned and closed the window. Once he was sure that Zim was really gone, he rushed back to his desk, grabbing the bucket Dad had wanted him to use whenever he coughed up the petals. He opened his mouth and immediately began to cough and hack, minutes passing by as his throat burned and the corners of his vision dimmed.
With one final hack and a long, tired wheeze, he set down the bucket and flopped into his chair. Every breath he took ached, and his throat stung, but he could still breathe. Once his vision was back to normal, he risked a look into the bucket.
Earlier, the petals were a thin layer on the bottom. Now, it was nearly half-full. It was getting worse, and only after one face-to-face meeting with Zim.
Dib swallowed nervously. How much time did he have left?
He tried again during next day's tests to convince his dad the Hanahaki Disease was real, but with no success. He complied through the tests, saying that there was more of an ache in his chest now, that his breathing felt shallower. That and the larger volume of petals from last night made his dad's brow crease deeply with worry.
That worry only grew after he had taken another X-ray. Before Dib could ask what was wrong, his father showed him too images—one from yesterday, and the other from today.
Dib immediately noticed the issue—the flowers and roots had spread much further. The bottom halves of his lungs were now filled. "Ah…" He swallowed thickly.
"I don't understand it," his dad said, still comparing the two images. "How could it have grown this much worse in so little time? I only altered the ratios of the chemicals…"
Dib remembered Zim coming into his room uninvited and burst into a loud coughing fit, scattering a pile of petals across the floor. His dad turned to look at him with clear concern.
"…son, if it progresses suddenly like this again anytime soon, you could…" His brow furrowed as he frowned. "We…may have to attempt your first suggestion. Before this can progress any further."
"Surgery?" Dib said, perking up slightly. He was confident it would work, all his research said it should. Even his father sitting next to him, hands clasped together, emitting a clear aura of worry wasn't quite enough to dampen his hope.
"…this could be risky. Dangerous," his father told him quietly. "This would be a very…sensitive surgery. We'd have to remove each growth to make so it can't grow back. If we miss one, or if someone makes a small mistake…"
"Dad." Dib placed his hand on top of his father's. "I trust you."
His dad stared at him for several long, silent seconds before sighing. "…alright. If you're ready and willing, we can do this today."
Dib nodded.
A few calls made, and a couple of strings pulled, and within the hour, Dib was waiting in one of the closest hospitals his father worked with. His dad had called for some of the best surgeons he knew, and medical equipment of his own invention was being prepped.
Currently, Dib was alone, listening to the sounds of doctors talking just outside. He was shirtless, and the planned locations of incision were already clearly written on his chest in marker.
He took a few deep breaths, trying to steady himself. The anesthesiologist came in, saying a few comforting words before giving Dib the anesthesia. In a few minutes, they explained, Dib would fall asleep. He'd wake up hours later, long after the surgery was finished.
Dib thanked them, laying down as they left. From his perspective, it would all be over in mere minutes. He could already feel his mind and body growing fuzzy and numb.
He drummed his fingers against his bare chest. With the drugs coursing through his veins, he imagined his fingers running through the soft flowers blooming under his skin. It was terrifying, but he was growing tired enough that the thought made him giggle.
Staring at the ceiling, he took several deep breaths. It was so simple. He'd fall asleep, and when he woke up, he would be safe. No more feelings for Zim, either.
…would he just fall out of love, or would he really feel nothing at all for the extraterrestrial? He'd still fight to save Earth, of course, even if all his feelings were gone, but…would he care for anything after this?
He sniffed, and realized that his vision was growing blurry because of the tears that had welled up in them. He scowled and closed his eyes, willing himself to let go, to fall into the numbness and finish this.
But just as he was on the cusp of unconsciousness, he thought he heard…something outside. Shouting, a commotion, followed by the screech of metal on metal. His brow furrowed, and he opened his eyes, something that took more effort than he expected.
The door had opened, and something was approaching…an all-too-familiar clack of metal legs that made something in his chest twist. But he was so numb at this point that he could barely even feel it.
A shadow looked over him, familiar even in that terrible disguise. He swore he could see a gleam of red behind his contacts. Zim was rambling, asking him something, maybe? But he couldn't understand any of it.
Maybe he's speaking in Irken. That would be funny.
That was his last thought before he finally fell unconscious.
Dib slowly blinked awake, groaning groggily. Funny…it was pretty dark in here, for a hospital. In fact, it looked more like Zim's lab than anything else.
He blinked once. Twice. Looked around a bit. Yes, this was definitely Zim's lab.
It took a few seconds for that information to sink in. Once it did, though, he quickly sat upright, patting down his torso and checking for scars, the signs of anything being added or removed. He couldn't find anything, which made him sigh in relief…
…until he realized that there weren't signs of the surgery had was supposed to have, either. There was still a tickle at the back of his throat, and a dull ache in his chest. "…Zim!"
"Ah, so the worm baby is finally awake." Zim's voice from overhead made him shiver, chest constricting. He looked up just as Zim crawled down from a higher point in the lab with his PAK legs, undisguised and looking like he could have come from a horror film.
Dib hated that it made his heart flutter a little. And even more so when Zim's cocky grin made it worse.
"For a moment, I worried I hadn't made it in time," Zim continued as he landed on his feet, PAK legs retracting. "But I never should have doubted myself, really! My timing was impeccable as always." He held his head high, looking smug. "Feel free to praise Zim as much as you wish."
"Praise you?" Dib sneered. "For what?"
Zim looked offended. "For saving you from experimentation in that backwards Urth lab, of course! Who knows what condition your pathetic body would have been in afterwards?"
Dib blinked a few times until he understood. "It was a surgery, not an experiment," he said, groaning and reaching up to rub his temples. "My dad was there, I would have been fine!"
Zim just sneered, antennae flicking. "And you think your primitive human 'surge-jury' couldn't have gone wrong somehow? Simply cutting into your unconscious form with simple sharp instruments, stabbing near your fragile vital organs, and hoping you wake up after removing pieces of you?"
Dib sighed, still rubbing his temples. The idea that Zim might be worried for him made the roots squeeze in his lungs, but he clamped onto annoyance instead of even entertaining that idea. "Zim."
"If anyone is going to have the honor of cutting into your freakishly pale and skinny torso and investigating your organs, it will be ZIM!"
Ah, so that was it. Dib found grabbing onto his annoyance a little easier, now. "Zim, do you even know why I was going to go into surgery?"
Zim blinked. Apparently that thought had never even crossed his mind. Dib groaned, rolling his eyes and trying to ignore the tickle at the back of his throat. "Great. For all you know, you could have just killed me. Stupid bug."
He expected Zim to laugh, maybe make some comment about how his victory was assured now. But Zim's mouth twisted into a curving scowl, and…he leaned closer, starting to feel at Dib's bare chest with his claws.
"The Dib is not allowed to die, except by my hand," he growled, pressing and prodding at his chest. Dib felt his face rapidly heat up. "What inferior Urth disease is threatening you? Whatever it is, it will be no match for Zim's superior knowledge!"
Heat rushed to Dib's face. He quickly placed a hand on the alien's forehead and tried to push him away. "Get off—"
Zim hissed and pushed back, prodding forcefully (and a little painfully) between his ribs. "Zim will not allow you to die, Zim forbids it!"
The tickle in his throat was too much to ignore, and his chest was being painfully squeezed. Dib turned his head away and coughed up another flurry of petals…only for his chest to heave, his coughing turning into retching as whole flowers poured up through his throat.
Almost as quickly as he started, he stopped, coughing a few more times to dislodge a few flowers. His throat and lungs burned painfully enough that he could see stars in the corner of his vision. He took in several raspy breaths, staring at the pile of flowers in horror.
"…it's getting worse," he said, glancing over at Zim. His enemy was staring at him with wide eyes, face pale as he looked back and forth between Dib and the flowers.
"Those disgusting petals you accused Zim of planting," he said after a few moments. "There are…more now?"
Dib nodded, pursing his lips. "…it's called the Hanahaki Disease," he confessed after several moments of hesitation. "Throwing up flowers is one of the last stages. If I can't get rid of it soon…" He trailed off, shuddering. He told himself that his difficulty breathing was all in his head, that he still had at least a few weeks left to fix this.
Still, hanging around Zim wasn't making it easier. "I'm going back to the hospital," he declared, standing up.
He barely even took a single step before a PAK leg shot out, stabbing into the ground in front of him. "No," Zim growled, glaring at him. "After all the trouble Gir and I went through to get you out without them following? Zim will fix this, Dib-worm, and much better than any Urth doctor! Be thankful that your future overlord is so willing to assist you."
Dib glared at him, swallowing thickly. "You don't know how to fix this. You haven't even heard about this disease until now!"
"Ha!" Zim turned away, facing some of his monitors. The PAK leg was still blocking Dib's path. "I'll figure out this pathetic disease quickly enough. Computer! Show me everything about this, urgh…"
"Hanahaki Disease," Dib supplied.
"That!"
All of the monitors lit up with several sites, many of which Dib recognized from his own research. Zim's head twisted back and forth as he took it all in, antennae flicking. Dib swore for a second that they flattened against his skull when he was reading about the cause of the disease, but they quickly shot back up when he moved onto the next site.
…it was probably wishful thinking on his end. If it even meant anything in the first place.
Just minutes later, Zim slowly turned back around to face him, claws hooked together and an unsettlingly wide grin on his face. Dib's chest lurched, and he coughed a few more petals up.
Zim looked disgusted, but was still regarding him like a particularly interesting experiment. "So, someone has caught the Dib-human's heart?" he chuckled. "And of course, your feelings haven't been returned. Makes perfect sense."
Dib glared at him as he pulled his PAK leg back. "Yeah, well, if my…feelings aren't returned, the only way to get rid of the flowers is through surgery."
Zim grimaced. "That is…unacceptable," he said. "You risk losing all your feelings, not just those for that one unfortunate fool. Zim refuses to even entertain the thought of having a nemesis without a passion, a fire!"
"Well, what other ideas do you have?" Dib's glare intensified. "It's either risk that, have my feelings returned, or…" He swallowed, feeling his face grow a little pale. He tried and failed to not think about the flowers slowly spreading through his lungs.
"None of those are acceptable." Zim began to pace. "You filthy humans are too limited in your thinking. Instead of removing the infection…" He stopped, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Why not remove the source?"
"…no one knows where the disease comes from," Dib told him.
"Ah, but it's always due to some object of your affections, isn't it?" Zim's grin grew wider. "Nothing mentioned what would happen if said object was…eliminated."
He posed dramatically, claws held in the air. "Zim is certain that with them out of the way, this disease will wither away, and nothing can distract you from our next glorious battle!"
Dib stared at him, wide-eyed. "…you can't be serious."
"Zim is deadly serious," he said, that manic grin still in place as he marched closer to Dib. He used his PAK legs to lift himself up, bringing himself eye-to-eye with the taller human. "Now, just tell me what pathetic worm has stolen your heart, and I'll ensure it's returned to you."
"It doesn't work that way," Dib said, taking a step back. Zim followed, eyes narrowing. "You'll probably just make the disease even worse, you idiot."
Zim looked downright offended. "Zim is a genius, you…you swollen-headed fool!" he snapped. "This will work! Just tell Zim who it is!"
Dib stepped back again, shaking his head. He flinched when his back hit a wall. Zim growled, leaning forward and slamming his hands on the wall beside him, trapping him. "Tell me! Tell Zim!" he barked. "Who dared taking your attention, stealing what is Zim's!?"
…the way he worded that made Dib pause, the gears in his head turning. "…'what's yours'?" he echoed, giving Zim a look.
Zim flinched, looking shocked for a second, before his scowl returned, glaring sharply at Dib's chest. "…you are Zim's," he hissed, tapping the tip of a PAK leg against his sternum. "Nothing else is allowed to claim you. Not another puny human, not one of the spookies you chase after, and not some…filthy disease."
Dib stared at him, wide-eyed. A huff of air escaped him, though he pursed his lips to try and contain it. But it kept bubbling up in his chest…and in moments, he burst into laughter, coughing in between each one and spilling out whole flowers.
"What!? What is this!?" Zim shrieked as his laughter and coughing continued. He was laughing so hard that tears were starting to form in his eyes, and he couldn't even say why it was so funny. "You dare laugh at Zim!?"
Dib wheezed. "So…So stupid." Even he wasn't sure if he was talking about Zim or himself.
Zim grabbed his shoulders and started shaking him, ignoring the flowers that spilled out of his mouth. "Stop laughing and tell me who it is! Just…ugh, let me help you, Dib!"
Dib kept wheezing, slowly catching his breath. It didn't feel like there was much space in his lungs for it. To his shock, Zim actually looked and sounded desperate, his claws digging into his flesh.
"…of anyone it could have been, it just had to be you, didn't it?" he chuckled. Zim blinked, confused, and pulled back a little.
He continued, "…it's you. You're the reason I have this disease. Because apparently I have extremely low tastes, and I—" He swallowed, words and petals stuck in his throat. He reached up and grabbed one of Zim's wrists. "You're my enemy, but I still love you."
The air around them froze. Zim stared at him, wide-eyed. The only part of him that moved was his antennae, which twitched back and forth, waving at Dib as though to sniff out any lies.
"…there is no one else?"
Dib gulped and slowly nodded.
"Just you and me?" Dib nodded again, and Zim's grip loosened, if only enough that his claws weren't piercing Dib's skin.
Zim pursed his lips, staring into his eyes. "…Zim has horrible, awful tastes in love-pigs," he huffed, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against Dib's, closing his eyes. His antennae whipped forward, wrapping around Dib's cowlick.
Dib's heart was pounding, and it was hard to breathe. "Zim…?"
"Hush." Zim's antennae were still tugging at his cowlick, playing with strands of his hair. "It's a good thing you have grown less annoying over the years. Be grateful that I…appreciate your presence at times."
"Zim," Dib choked out. It was getting even harder to breathe, everything in his chest and throat burning and twisting.
Zim tilted his head slightly, just enough that his lips were pressed against Dib's ear. He clicked a few things in his native tongue before growling, "If you try to tell anyone I said this, I'll feed you your own tongue."
"…despite everything, Zim loves you."
He quickly darted back, his antennae pulling Dib's cowlick forward. Dib stared at him with wide eyes as his words slowly sank in. He…but that meant…
The painful twisting in his chest intensified for a moment into white-hot pain…and then suddenly vanished as though it was never there. Dib's chest heaved once, twice, three times…and he fell to his knees and bent over, opening his mouth as everything that had been rooted in his chest poured up his throat.
His throat burned, but it only lasted a few moments. With one final cough, the last roots slipped out of his mouth, and he took a deep breath. Cold air rushed in, filling the deepest parts of his lungs, and he felt almost giddy from it. That was all he needed to feel to confirm that it was over. He carefully wobbled back onto his feet, turning his attention to Zim.
Zim was staring at the mess of roots and flowers with clear and utter disgust. Dib would have laughed if he wasn't so focused on pumping air back into his lungs...but he still cracked a wide grin at the sight of it. "Zim..."
"YOU ARE CLEANING THAT UP," Zim declared, stepping back and pointing at the flowers, still looking at it like it was the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. "ZIM IS NOT TOUCHING ANYTHING THAT COMES OUT OF YOUR FILTHY HUMAN WORM BODY."
Dib could breathe easily enough now that he managed a single, small chuckle. "Hey, it's your fault it exists in the first place. Stupid bug."
Zim snarled in response, tossing Dib's trenchcoat over him and using a PAK leg to press a disinfecting wipe over Dib's mouth. Dib just rolled his eyes, slipping on his coat and cleaning off his mouth.
"I'm going home," he declared, tossing the wipe at Zim and laughing as he flailed to dodge it. "When's your next evil plan? This weekend, again?"
"Like I would tell you when I'll strike," Zim answered with a sneer. "Besides, you'll be seeing Zim's glorious visage much earlier than that. Humans need to eat after sickness to recover, yes?"
"Yeah…?"
Zim puffed out his chest. "I'll treat you to an Urth pizza," he declared. "Tomorrow. After school. I'll pick you up from your base. Be ready, and don't embarrass me."
Dib gave him a look. "…is that your way of asking me on a date?"
"Bah!" Zim's sneer grew. "You humans use such…fickle terms. But, if it helps your puny worm brain understand, then it is a…date."
Dib grinned widely, heart fluttering and twisting…this time in a good way. "I'll see you then, space scum," he said, heading toward the elevator. He felt lighter than he had in weeks, breathing so much easier. He felt as though he could float on air.
Zim let out an annoyed screech just as the elevator doors closed, apparently realizing that Dib had left the mess of flowers behind. Even knowing he would probably get payback for this, Dib laughed loudly, practically cackling as he darted out of the house.