The Discount Smeet by Dib07
Summary:
It all started when Dib went to an alien market to buy supplies. He didn't realize he'd be going home with a smeet. Only, the young smeet slowly becomes Dib's whole world, and the human space explorer soon has to defend Zim against those who want all defectives dead.
Warnings:
Sci-fi adventure. Light swearing. Peril. Alternative Universe.
Disclaimer:
I do not own the IZ characters. However this story and this idea is mine.
The story picture I am using is not mine, it has been lovingly made by Sin Hogar/tenebrio. The picture is owned by her. Please do not use/burrow without her or my permission. Thanks for reading! ^^
P.S I love you Sin Hogar! I can't express how much I ADORE this picture!
AN:
Okay, yeah, how could I ignore 13 reviews? Haha! 13 reviews all at once, for a little oneshot! What have I done? I guess that means I need to put up another chapter! Because yeah, I wasn't expecting such positive responses to this. I thought the story's opening was a bit... I dunno... odd? We're used to the characters of the show. And I've never bothered with au's before, so. So, um, I just HAD to write the first chapter before I forgot the dream, and then I privately wrote a lot more. Because smeet Zim.
Yeah.
I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Sin Hogar. She gave this story a little more life than mere words can achieve. Out of the blue she did the cover art for this story. It's so sweet. Such a charming gift. I LOVE it more than words can truly express.
Yeah. ^^
RhiannonsaurusRex
Omg he is such a tiny, squeaking bundle of joy for sure! And Dib, Dib is such a badass! He is really stepping out, and is such an independent lad with goals that far exceed himself. With his own ship! Oh there is a lot for me to share in this little story, with those little intricate details of his life aboard the ship, etc with all that onboard management! I LOVE writing sci-fi, and I did do an original novel of it once, but I never finished it. So I've had practise. I guess I just never bothered since, so it was exciting to get a taste of it again in a setting I'd never imagine I'd write. Yeah, I think it was a lot like Star Wars! Those movies really nailed the atmosphere of distant worlds that can be rich or poor. Oh gosh I know right, I would have flipped as well if I'd seen a merchant selling babies. I think you might get more angry the more you read this latest chapter, but yeah I might have personally unleashed the beast on that merchant, or ANYONE selling such cuties with such indifference to their welfare. Yes, animal cruelty and child slavery is rampant and sadly that chapter touching on the madness of our world was very real and felt a little too close to home. At least Zim's tragic beginnings have some hope, and he may find happiness yet. My stories do tend to be on the cold, realistic side of life.
''I've never read or heard of Dib being the one to raise Zim as his own in any fanfic. Kept as a pet yes or there was one where an adult Dib was the councilor at Skool and helped Zim with his life but never raised as a child.''
Really? REALLY? Oooh. That daunts me, that I may be the first. I kinda hope so, and I also feel a little isolated in this unique idea! I hope I can make it work! I've never read anything like this myself, or read anything on parental experiences through fanfiction, so it's a fresh, new thing for me too. So yes, I am new at this, and excited at being new at it. I've never had any children myself, so, um, if it's okay, I'D LOVE some advice! I am going in a little blind, especially with a weak baby being so smart! But thank you, so, so much, and I mean this with all my heart. You've given me such priceless, gorgeous reviews that I am addicted to in so many ways! I love reading what you write, and I often find myself re-reading them and getting excited and happy all over again!
Guest
Hi Guest! Thanks for stopping by and spending the time to say you enjoyed it, and that you were after a bit more! ^^ Here you are! Hope you like it as much as you did the first chapter!
Sanmari
Oh no, don't worry, it's definitely NOT going to be ZADR! That would be so weird if it was! XD Gosh no! XD Putting Dib in such an independent lifestyle I think was a good move to try. Yeah, it does totally remove them from their places on the chessboard, hence my reluctance to continue this any further from the oneshot I had intended, and the dream I had didn't continue from the first chapter, BUT I accidently wrote 4 more chapters. XD And Sin Hogar has offered to do some commissions, so, I decided to push out some more chapters onto the table as an excited thank you for the support of everyone here! ^^ Five day old smeets are just so... lovable and I HAD to write more! Plus yeah, this AU was just too fun to leave alone!
Boxy
I knooow! Smeet Zim's had a bit of a rough start. Was it because you were eager to read more, hence your reluctance to read that first chapter? ^^
Chapter Two: Getting to know you
Strangely he wanted to take it out of the carrier case and carry it around with him in his arms. It was an oddly maternal feeling he suddenly had that rose up within him, and he wasn't sure he liked this new feeling. For the smeet wasn't his, even though he had gone and done something stupid and bought it. He had no documents to confirm his new authenticity as owner, and the smeet was a different species. The baby might be likened to the uneasy start of having a new pet, like a new gerbil or hamster, and bite Dib out of fear. And yes, the novelty was there, of owning something new, something... different. But there was a lot of guilt with this sudden purchase and he was tempted to go back and hand it over to the stubborn Halycon.
But the market was just too damn loud and busy to carry around something that was only a few days old. He didn't want to get bumped into whilst holding the smeet in his arms. It would only frighten it. And the seller had warned him of the Irken 'wetting itself,' and Dib wanted to remain dry.
So yeah, it was staying in the carrier until he got it back to his ship.
In the meantime, he did do some extra shopping; having to buy supplies he never would have thought he'd ever be buying.
Using his digital credits, he spent it on blankets in a range of cute colours such as maple, pink, cherry and purple, and Irken baby formula. Lots of the stuff. They came in sterilized, laminated packs that were heavy to carry, and felt thick with liquid that was too dense and compact to be milk. This ignorance of what smeets actually needed reminded Dib once more that he had no idea what he was doing, and that he had done a stupid thing in buying the smeet. It was like going down to Africa for a holiday and coming back to America with a baby cheetah. It was dumb. It was stupid. He often laughed at the thought of people bringing home dangerous and exotic beasts to their humble apartments. Now he realized how easily he had been suckered into it.
He went to another store managed by Vortians, and bought toys, clothing of various sizes, and lots of diapers.
During his shopping spree, the smeet now very quiet and still within the carrier, a greater guilt began to settle on Dib's heart.
What am I going to do with it? My home is Earth! This Irken baby can't possibly come with me!
Then, a quick turnabout thought emerged, and with it, a feeling of sanity.
That's okay. I'll give the baby to someone who can actually take care of it. Or I can take it back to where it came from. Anything's better than being in that glass stall.
With this in mind, he continued buying his supplies with less aggravation. And, for the first time, he took an active interest in the few renegade Irkens that passed him in the crowds. Some were taller than others, and some were short and squat. Some were thin and tough-looking. But every single one held itself in a menacing way. And all of them sported deeply tanned green skin and they had bulbous eyes that came in various shades of red, or blue, or even purple. But they wore hardened, cold expressions and their gaze was terribly piercing. Their eyes were quick to humble whoever had the misfortune to look their way.
Dib was afraid to look at one for too long, in case he got noticed by them. And they were wearing military clothing, not the haggard street rags or flamboyant robes that other aliens wore. It made these Irkens look smart and helped enhance their menacing image.
At least they didn't seem to grow particularly big. The tallest one he saw was almost the same height as him, but only almost.
Because he had bought so much, a helpful Vortian vendor helped him cart it back to his docked ship on a levitating trolley.
Dib kept looking at the things he had bought, inundated with how much baby stuff he had.
As he walked back to the ship with the smiling vendor, he could hear the sickly smeet sneezing inside the carrier.
The ship: Blue Thunder, was easy to pinpoint amongst the massive rows of others. Most aliens loved the gaudiest of colours, and as a result, had their ships painted stark pink, or purple or red or violet. Dib's was plain cobalt, and its balanced human design set it apart from the eccentric design of the others. For Dib liked straight lines and the box-like practicality of his vessel even if it looked boring. The other ships were borderline nightmares with their fancy curves that served little purpose, and they had struts and fins and cross-pieces that served as cosmetic accessories that only weighed down the ship.
Sure, the alien pilots were imaginative, but it turned into scary absurdity when you started cobbling together ships with flamboyant prettiness.
By touching a device on his wrist that looked a lot like a touch-screen watch, the rear cargo door opened.
The vendor attentively helped stow the supplies inside using the levitating trolley, and once everything was stacked neatly, Dib thanked the Vortain and gave him a tip. When he asked the Vortian if he knew anything on Irken babies, the vendor's purple skin seemed to grow pale, and he fumbled with apologies when he said he knew nothing about them, and said that he was better off not knowing.
Dib began to suspect that Irkens weren't very well liked, for whatever reason.
After the vendor had gone, Dib went into the cargo bay and closed up the doors and sealed the airlocks so that the hull was secure.
As it was, Blue Thunder was very spacious and large, despite its lone occupant. It was quite clean, and its tunnels were cool and airy from the ventilation.
Dib went into his personal bed quarters, aft of the bridge with a bag of supplies in one hand, and the carrier in the other.
Nervously, he set the metal carrier down on his bedroom floor. He put the bag of supplies on the bed, and then went and hit a button on the wall. The door slid shut to ensure that the smeet didn't do a runner and get lost in the ship.
Once that protocol was in place, Dib nervously undid the little latch and swung the hatch outward. He tensed, kneeling by the side of the carrier, his hands safely in his lap. He had no idea what to say, if he should say anything to it. He was rather useless at these things. But he gathered smeets were pretty smart, if they were anything like their adult counterparts. But for all he knew, he had just bought one with brain damage.
When nothing happened, he was forced to take the initiative.
"Come on out, little guy." He tried, wondering if the alien baby could even understand him. "Don't be afraid. Nothing's going to harm you."
He supposed that his quiet, serene bedroom was a big change from the clutter, noise and hustle of the market.
But the smeet didn't come out.
Having little alternative, Dib picked up the carrier and titled it down, its open hatch facing the carpet. In moments the smeet came tumbling out, and plopped onto the floor with a squeak.
Dib settled the carrier behind him, and sat, watching the tiny thing blink with its large, diaphanous eyes that reflected all the lights and shades of the room. Then it turned slightly to look up at Dib. The human visibly saw a shiver oscillate down the smeet's body. Then it curled up where it sat, and started to cry.
"No! Don't cry!" Dib told it. He was no fan of tears, and liked babies crying even less, usually because it evoked mixed feelings of loneliness and sadness in him too.
When he reached out to timidly pat it on the head, the smeet got up and waddled over to his bed, where it then tried to hide in the skirt of the duvet, as Dib's bed was on the floor. There was no gap to store things, and as such, no gap to hide in.
Dib sat where he was for a moment, tasting defeat.
Gotta change tactics. He thought, deciding then and there that the smeet was smart, at least for babies. But it was also terribly frightened. For all it knew, Dib had kidnapped the smeet once again, to be sold elsewhere.
Dib opened the bag and brought out some of the toys he had bought. He sprinkled them here and there on the floor, and already the place was starting to look a tad like a nursery. He hoped he could attempt to engage with the smeet by tempting it with these toys. Then he unpacked all of the smeet's supplies, including the nappies. He really didn't want little accidents all over his ship.
He got out the Irken smeet formula too, and some biscuits for growing babies.
Then he made himself comfortable on the floor again, trying to appear as amicable as possible.
"You hungry? I have food."
The smeet remained huddled, using the hanging sheet of duvet as a wrap-around shroud. All this thing ever seemed to do was shiver and sneeze as if it was inflicted with some terrible cold virus.
"My name's Dib." He affably continued. "Do you have a name?"
He watched the shivery bundle nod its head through the sheet.
It was his first successful attempt at communication and Dib suddenly welled up with excitement.
The smeet had some knowledge after all, and it could understand him somehow, without any noticeable translator! Unless of course the token gesture of its head was purely accidental.
So, he tried again.
"Oh? What's your name?"
There was no reply.
Dib remembered suddenly that the seller had said that this smeet was a mute, which suggested that all Irken babies were quite capable of talking soon after birth.
Only, this one clearly did not speak, either because it couldn't, or wouldn't.
"You're safe here." Dib repeated, endorsing this very fact, because it was true. He wasn't like all those other aliens, and he wanted to prove it with every opportunity. Flaxier 19 was a horrid place to be, even if you were a customer, let alone as 'cattle' to be sold and distributed, so no wonder this little thing appeared so shell-shocked. "Please understand. I can take care of you until I can find your parents."
Again the smeet did not reply with vocal acknowledgement or a gesture.
It was miserably silent.
All it did do was sneeze, and sometimes it would deliver a very squeaky cough.
Dib was aware he was still parked on Flaxier 19, and that his ship wasn't going anywhere. If he wanted to make progress, it was better to engage the drives and set the ship to autopilot. Then he could deal with the smeet. Dib always felt safer when he was travelling through space. He felt like too much of a target, docked amongst so many aliens.
He himself was the real alien here, and he was always aware of this fact. Better to keep moving.
"I'll be right back." He told the baby. "I gotta warm up the engines and set a destination. I won't be long." He was good at talking to himself anyway, and he hoped the smeet would soon learn to trust the sound of his voice. Regardless, he had work to do.
Dib approached the door, and unlocked it with a button press. The partition slid open, and he stepped through into the cool, ventilated corridor.
To make sure the smeet would remain safe, he had the door slide shut again.
He plodded to the bridge with sudden spells of low energy. He was beginning to fret: thinking that the smeet was simply too young to be 'set free' as he had intended. He would have to find its parents, or a full-grown Irken who might be able to foster it. He could not set a course for Earth, which spiked him with impatience and growing disappointment. He had meant to go home after buying his fuel. Now he was bogged down with a baby. An alien baby. He could not possibly take it with him.
So where was the smeet's home planet?
At the bridge, he sat on his command chair and riffled through his astrological star system: his holographic map on his computer. The smeet's home planet was called Irk, and it took him almost twenty minutes of searching through the various planet systems before he actually found it. It was like looking for a single location without a postcode in a huge city using the search system: 'Google Earth.'
The planet was far, much further than he liked, and it was a big deviation from his usual route home.
"What a detour." He thought. But he had enough star ship fuel for both journeys.
You did this to yourself, Dib, old buddy. Said that little rational voice somewhere inside his head.
"I sure have." He agreed.
Either way, he was profoundly happy he had taken it from its prison.
How could aliens pass off... other alien babies with such ease?
Those adult Irkens didn't even care. They just walked on by, as if the smeets weren't even there.
This very question kept cycling through his head. He dreaded to think what might become of the other six.
Fostering these pangs of regret, rue and a little bit of grim satisfaction at what he had done, Dib took to the controls, and activated the ship's engines. Carefully he untethered its umbilicus from the complimentary dock and guided the ship upwards, slowly at first, to avoid low flying traffic, and to give others plenty of warning as he ascended. He kept his eyes alternatively glued to the radar for anyone swerving in too close, and at the readouts. Everything was in the green.
Once he was high enough, he engaged the throttle and cut into the planet's atmosphere with zeal. He was only too happy to leave this dusty ball behind him.
The ship sliced through the thin atmosphere with ease, only rocking now and again from the heat and turbulence, and Dib disposed of the translator headset around his head, glad to be rid of the weight. He wouldn't need it anymore, especially if the smeet was mute.
It was hard work, monitoring the systems, and in general: running the vessel all by himself, but he loved every minute of it.
Once Blue Thunder had exited the atmosphere it slipped coolly and easily into the vacuum of space. Any and all traces of fire along its hull quickly died as there was no oxygen to feed it. The ship felt ten times lighter, and seemed to move along at a faster rate in space where there was no friction or wind to slow it down.
Once he had set a course for the planet Irk (it would take Blue Thunder seven days to reach it), he left the bridge, glad to be rid of Flaxier 19 until the next time he needed cheaper star fuel. As it was, he had enough to keep him going for another year. That was the greatest thing about bulk buying.
Dib: the ever reluctant new owner of a defective smeet, returned to the bedroom, sliding the door open and then shut again. The smeet had surprisingly been petting the new toys with jittery disquiet until it heard the door slide to give Dib access. Then the smeet dived for the dresser. It opened the door with a tiny hand, and slipped inside.
Smiling patiently, Dib walked over and knelt by the open dresser so as not to frighten the smeet with his full height. Slowly he opened the dresser door all the way. The baby was pressing itself right back as far as it could go, knocking aside all of Dib's deodorants, soaps, gels and towels. It was looking at him as one might look into the mouth of a tiger.
Despite its hapless fear, Dib mused to himself at how damn cute it was. Its big, wondrous eyes mesmerized Dib the most. They weren't quite red, but they weren't quite pink either. They were a gossamer shimmer of both: an overlay of glassy fuchsia. And the little thing had two, great long black antennas that hung down to the metal dome thing on its back. Its head was large, and it had tiny feet and hands. Its chest was sexless, its skin a pale, yellowish green dappled in darker bruising. Though the smeet's eyes were wide in fear, its face almost retained that same neutrality the adult Irkens had possessed, only without the malice.
Now it was holding itself ridged as if it was on the precipice of a cliff edge with nowhere to go. Its breathing was fast and shallow. The smeet was so thin that Dib could clearly see the outline of its ribcage. And there was a nasty, swollen bruise on its jutting hip, and another on its neck.
Either the baby had acquired these 'marks' from sibling rivalry, or... or... the smeet had been...
No, no, Dib! Don't even think of it!
No one could hurt a baby! No way! No! I won't think of it!
If this smeet was indeed a mistake, it was the cutest mistake Dib had ever made. And he could not help but have a certain fondness for it, even if he knew that such bonding was dangerous if he later meant to give it away.
"It's okay. Really." He spoke in a gentle whisper. "I could never hurt you."
He's probably never seen a human before, Dib had to remind himself, and this ship must smell different too.
The smeet was absolutely tiny. Dib reckoned that if he had been able to measure it with a ruler, he would have found that the baby was only 11 or so inches in height, 14 if you included the antennae, and the smeet's chest was only 2 and a half inches across.
He hoped the diapers and clothes would fit something so delicate and small.
Dib reached in to touch him, a little worried about being bitten. As it was, the smeet only had one baby tooth, and had he have known this, he would not have been concerned.
The smeet only tried to push itself deeper into the confines of the dresser, beginning to squeal in distress.
Braving himself for any kind of rebuttal, Dib grabbed him and held him in both hands, one on either side of its chest as he took him out of the dresser. He was scared at how to handle him. What the best way to hold something so tiny and delicate? He also expected some kind of aggressive act from the smeet, but the baby just hung there in his hold, all floppy and shivery. It stared up at him with those big eyes that were shimmering with fresh tears. Then it peed. A yellow liquid ran down between its legs and onto the carpet. And it was peeing from a little slit between its legs, like a female. Dib believed the seller had got its sex confused.
"Real swell." Dib sighed. But the baby was too damn cute for him to be angry. "A bed wetter, are you? Or is this normal for babies to just... go?" He remembered to keep smiling, wondering if showing his teeth to the baby was appropriate. In the animal kingdom, showing teeth only reinforced aggression.
And the little thing barely weighed much of anything. Dib did wonder if the mite had ever even been fed. "I bet you're hungry. Let's put a diaper on you before you do anymore damage, and then we'll see how you like Irken baby formula. God knows what's in it if it isn't milk."
The smeet just watched him anxiously, urine dripping down its left leg. It was almost as if the baby believed it would be severely punished, hence the frightened anticipation. And the smeet felt cold in his hands. He could feel the little thing trembling. All it had ever done since he had first laid eyes on it was shiver, either from stress or from the chill, or because it was sick.
The half-price smeet. No. The discount smeet. Dib thought with a sad little smile.
The baby's skin was very soft, and a little spongy, and so, so smooth. It did not have a single follicle of hair on it, and it didn't have a belly button.
Aside from the string of bruising, noticeably over its ribs, pelvic bones and neck, for these stood out a little due to its overall thinness as it was pretty easy to get these bones knocked around, there seemed to be no other damage.
"Can... can you understand me?" He tried again, simply because trying anything was something.
Amazingly, the smeet nodded his head without hesitation.
Again, that same cluster of excitement stirred Dib forwards.
It was such a personal discovery.
"But you won't talk?"
Now the little creature slowly shook his head twice.
"Why not?"
The smeet's answer was silent.
Dib's thoughts were whirling through his head as fast as a rampant hurricane.
A perfectly intelligent baby refused to speak, and yet it seemed able of comprehending him without any visible translator.
If you could talk, what would you tell me? What awful things have you seen? What has frightened you so? Did that seller lay a hand on you? When was the last time you ate? Were you ever hugged, or loved, just once in your brief life?
"I think I'll get you talking eventually." Dib added with hope. "Let's get you cleaned up, and fed. I think you'll like that!"
The smeet did what it had always done, and stared up at Dib with great remorse as if it was in the deadly grip of a bear. But Dib was gentle and laid the smeet on a towel before cleaning his undercarriage with baby wipes. Then he fitted the diaper on him. Or her. Or whatever gender it was.
The smeet surprisingly let him put the diaper on without fuss.
Will the wonders ever cease?
The diaper was a bit big; despite Dib adjusting it to its tightest setting, but it was on, saving his room from anymore unwanted spillages.
Then he plopped the little smeet where it was most comfortable: on his king sized bed. The bed was blue, as was pretty much everything else, including the carpet. Next, Dib mopped up the little accident on the floor while the smeet sat up and watched him from the bed.
When that job was done, Dib asked it: "You hungry?"
Again, there no answer. The smeet just blinked, rubbing the tears from its eyes. One antenna dipped upwards. It seemed to be either listening, or expressing itself via its feelers rather than its face. Dib realized he knew too damn little on Irkens. He had seen Rath extensively use his antennae for whatever reason, and Dib had never called it into question.
So he tried another question as a final test to see how much this little baby understood him.
"Are you scared of me?"
A short, quick nod.
Of course he will be. Dib had to pause to tell himself. We've only just met.
"Do you... do you want to go back to the merchant I bought you from?"
A firm, hard shake of the head.
No.
I think I'm onto something. Dib fathomed, feeling quite pleased. But it seemed that the smeet could only answer to 'yes' and 'no' questions.
He also believed that this little runt of the litter was really smart, despite its tender age and sickly appearance.
Dib tried to think of something important to ask it.
It didn't take long.
"Do you have a mom? Or a daddy Irken?"
The smeet shook its head after an iota of hesitation.
Why won't you speak, little one?
How can you have no parents?
He sat on the bed, closer to the smeet. The baby didn't draw away or look to seek shelter but it did begin to cower again, as if expecting to be physically struck.
"You've got to have a name. How do I know what to call you?"
Astonishingly, the little smeet raised its left claw, palm up, and, with the other, it made a writing gesture as if it was holding a pen. It pretended to write on its palm.
Dib ended up feeling like the stupid one.
Quickly, he dashed to grab a pen and a sheet of paper from one of his drawers. Only, he found just a tablet and a stylus. He feared the material was too advanced for so tender a creature, no matter how smart he reckoned it could be. But when he glanced over at the baby, it was curling its claw towards itself, as if to say 'yes, come back, I can use that.'
With the tablet and stylus, he presented it to the Irken baby. Taking it politely off him, the smeet delicately held the stylus in its three-fingered hand and started writing. Dib was now the one staring with the googly eyes.
It wasn't every day a five-day old baby could use tablets and styluses.
Dib felt like pinching himself to see if he might 'wake up.'
The smeet took its time, flicking the stylus up and down with deft motions of its tiny wrist.
When Dib leaned in closer to have a look, he saw that it was in another language: probably from its own dialect. Incredibly, the smeet seemed to realize its mistake, and blotted out the symbols with its fingers, only to rewrite the letters in English.
In weedy, wonky writing, the word: 'ZIM' appeared on the screen of the tablet.
"Zim? That's your name?" Dib asked in breathless awe.
The smeet nodded. Both antennae bobbed as well, but no expression graced its face.
"Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Zim. I'm Dib, as you may remember. It's uh... a cute name you have."
He figured the tablet was an excellent way to communicate, but it still begged the question: why wouldn't he speak?
The smeet turned back to the tablet again, and slowly, awkwardly tried to spell a new word. When Dib looked, he saw his own name written on the screen. Zim had the screen turned towards him, as if seeking the human's approval.
He had spelt his name correctly without any prior knowledge.
Dib smiled. "Very good!" He said. He wanted to ask this little mite about a million questions, and keep at it, not wanting to lose this new foothold of understanding, but Zim was still shivering and sneezing. The shakes had made their way down to the smeet's fingers and toes.
He must be weak and starving.
And he did look starved to death.
"Did that obnoxious trader ever feed you?" He gently asked.
Zim shook his head. He looked down at the tablet but didn't write anything. His eyes looked sad.
How can anyone starve a baby? I want to kill that Nox merchant!
This led him to a question he had hoped never to ask. "Did... did that Halycon... beat you?"
Could someone so young and so tender even understand the nature of violence?
Zim did not look his way. But he curled up a little more, and his left eye filled up with a tear. He gave a very soft, very timid nod.
Dib closed his eyes for a moment as he tried to mentally deal with this.
He did not even want to imagine someone beating a baby that was mere days old.
Dear Lord. The bruises.
To cheer things up a little, he changed the subject, because he wasn't sure if he could deal with the emotional ramifications just yet.
"I better dress you up into something warmer. I can't have you shivering like that."
To think that such a smart little baby had been left to starve in a glass box without food, water or comfort. And was henceforth beaten.
Dib actually felt sick with disgust at the seller.
The human went through the baby clothes, trying to pick out the best size that might fit a frame so preciously small. He selected a blue one with pink motifs of alien fruit that looked a lot like strawberries. He slipped these on, starting with getting the pants on the baby's little bony legs. He tucked the waist up once Zim was lying down, and then he sat him up again to slip his arms through the sleeve holes. The little clothes were silky soft and very warming. Already they were allaying the smeet's endless shivering cycles. And Dib talked all the while about anything, even stuff that was all nonsense. He wanted to instil trust in the smeet, and he figured being patient and talking to him was the best way to achieve it.
He was extra careful too, as he pulled on the clothing on whilst trying to avoid touching its sensitive little bruises that were almost black in colour.
When he was all dressed up, Dib picked him up and eased the smeet onto his lap. In his hand was a pink baby bottle filled with formula. Using his free arm, he wrapped it around the baby to keep him slightly reclined. Zim did not squeak at this, but he still looked very nervous. His eyes kept darting to his hands, as if he was expecting the human to start punching him with them.
"We'll try this baby formula first. I have no idea if it's supposed to be hot or cold. The instructions are all in Irken." And he had left his translator on the bridge. It was a poor move on his part, but he figured the formula could be used directly from the packet.
He edged the tip of the baby bottle towards Zim's mouth.
Strangely, the smeet refused, pushing against the nipple of the bottle with one tiny clawed hand.
Dib was not altogether happy. Was he distrusting the formula? Or was he mistrusting the one holding it? Or was it because he had not been fed in days? There was a re-feeding syndrome in human babies who hadn't been fed enough. It caused really painful stomach cramps, even with early re-feeding. He wasn't even sure why he knew this. It was just one of those generalised things he had picked up in passing as he had grown up on Earth.
And the smeet was very bony.
"Come on little Zim! You need this! Just try it! Just a little! Pretty please?"
Dib07: There ya go! Again! Yeah, funny place to end it, but this chapter got long, and I hated cutting it off, but I just carried on with that scene and well, yeah. Hope you enjoyed. I'd love it if you dropped in your thoughts and if there's still a need for more. This story's not too weird still, right? I dunno, man. I just write it. Eh.
