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! ^^
AN:
Wot WOT WOT! 30 reviews? WOT?
Okay, this story has broken my personal records. I guess smeet Zim is very much loved. And I do not blame you.
I freakin' love him too.
Can I just say how enthralled I am to be here, writing this for you all? With 30 reviews to glean upon, look at, and admire like they are golden bits of treasure?
Like I mentioned before, this had meant to be a quickie self-indulgent one-shot. Now it's turned into a little story. I might not have bothered continuing it either,
but you dear reviewers are way too convincing. ^^ You've also encouraged me, saying this story's not weird. Ha. Thank goodness!
I don't know why, but I have begun to entertain the idea of Zim becoming an adult, and Dib being his wise, enduring father. Man. Dreams can be so misleading. But cool. If it wasn't for dreams, this story would not have existed. Thank you, brain!
Guest
No prob! Glad I could oblige you! Hope you like this one just as much! :)
Boxy
Hey there Boxy! So glad you returned to send me your thoughts! Yes, baby smeets need food... need sustenance! That merchant was pretty darn awful. Treating smeets like slaves. The emotional damage he's left is not yet forgotten. Well, the thing is, Dib has led a pretty selfish life, doing the things he's wanted to do. He has quite a lesson to learn! But yes, he'd made a very suitable father if only he'd listen to his heart! I'm super happy this story has touched you! I hope you love this chapter too, Boxy!
Guest
Oh gosh, me too! XD I'm on chapter 10 as of today due to my smeet Zim needs. I am too addicted. Uh!
RhiannonsaurusRex
Dear, dear Rhian. I owe you so, so much. But before I say anything else, HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY! I tried so hard to get something up for you on your birthday, but my week caught up with me, and boy, have I been busy! I hope, pray you had a fantastic birthday and that you got treated on your special day as a queen and had lovely gifts, and that you had a well deserved break from those dear children! Birthdays are very special after all, for each one is a year triumphed. Another year wiser. I wish I'd got this story up sooner, but heh, I suppose late is better than never! And omg Dib sure has got a lot to learn. Bad enough that he's got a newborn, let alone an Irken newborn! Thank you so, so very much for all your amazing help. You went out of your way for me, and gave me something to think about, which I loved. I needed that help, I needed someone else's opinion to make this story as realistic as possible. So, I've given all you've said into great consideration, and I have developed and plotted all of chapter 6 with all that you have said in mind! Yes, you are going to have to wait to see chapter 6, but hopefully the wait will be worth it! And I shall henceforth dedicate that chapter to you! We're already on chapter 3 as it is, so hopefully the wait won't be too long! ;) Chapter titles and how to actually end this story is giving me a bit of a headache, but it is all part of the creative process!
Your nephew and him saying 'oh bugger' had me laughing! And your dear 5 year old niece swearing like that! Oh bless them! They do make such outstanding memories! I love how children's minds work. It's good, how the absorb information like sponges, but bad as well! You just can't win sometimes in this day and age! LUCKILY I can sidetrack this a little, as Zim is mute for now, but he will still pick up on everything, I am sure, and he has so much to learn. It can be a bit overwhelming for someone so tender and young.
Oh boy. About Zim and affection. I don't know how I did it, but I wrote this very chapter like, weeks ago, and I think I may have got it right judging by what you've said about Zim and his need for attention, while at the same time being distrustful, and a little cornered. I dunno. I write mad stuff sometimes. The best writers are crazy, right? XD So I hope I've got it right, and if not, then I hope I am almost there.
''But no matter how smart and capable a child is, if their only a few months old it still won't matter as even if they have knowledge built into them, they have no experience or content. Even if Zim can talk and knows things from his pack, he doesn't have any life experiences so everything will be a big game of finding out.''
You know what? I am so, so glad and reassured you came up and said this. I MEAN it. I am so eternally grateful. I had such a bitter mental battle with myself, trying to determine how smart Zim should be, and in relation to that smartness, how he'd develop or already be developed in terms of his motor skills and experience, and I was deviating between what you've just said, and unrealistic out of the blue smartness. I kept cantering between the two, and I've had a few people already say that Zim should be smart enough to do this, and that, and I was a bit crestfallen, thinking I had overthought things and screwed it up. BUT, BUT you came and smacked those indecisive demons clean away. You are right. Reading about piloting a boat say, is all very good, but actually doing it without guidance is a whole different experience. His PAK has information, like you said, but he has no idea how he fits into the world, what's expected of him, or how things work. The smarter a creature is, the longer it takes for them to learn all there is to know. Animals with bigger brains tend to be nurtured with their parents for longer, humans being the longest. So thank you for reassuring me. Because of what you said, I was more sure of what I was doing. And oh yes, Dib will be tested! ;) The poor man!
I really hope your sister's broken foot is on the mend. That must have hurt, badly. How did she do it, if I don't mind asking? Breaking an ankle is a very easy thing to do. I horse ride, and having an accident is all too easy. I rode into a tree, for example, came off my horse and winded myself from hitting the ground. Not fun, lol.
Yeah, having to look after and keep an eye on 4 children is not easy! Bless ya! I am thinking of you! And I LOVE your reviews so, so much. They get me through my working week. You are a ton of inspiration, and I am hatching a plot to that 'If Only I Could' aftershot you requested! I'm sorry I have not updated Saving Zim or Debacle R to reply to your requests so fully, and the only bad news is that you will have to wait until after the summer holidays when I get my normal schedule under way, lol! This 'Inside Zim' I am looking forward to as well, but I shall try and do the aftershot first as a really nice, satisfactory conclusion! I will dedicate it to you! ^^
Have a great, awesome day, that's hopefully relaxing! ^^
Chapter Three: The Reluctant Father
He wasn't going to give up. If smeets were anything like human babies, then they needed to be fed and managed constantly. Dib only wished that he had some help. He supposed this was his punishment: buying something he knew next to nothing about, without even a basic book as a guide.
As he nudged the nip of the bottle at Zim's mouth, he glossed over the thought of what Rath would have done with the baby. The human always got the impression that Rath was diplomatic in all of his approaches, be it military, domestic matters or even casual affairs. He had never given Dib that same stinging look the other Irken customers had given him in passing back on Flaxier 19, but when you were in space, contacting someone from afar wasn't easy. You had to know what quadrant of space they were in to send the message, and it might take years for a reply, depending on the distance. For all he knew, Rath was at war with someone, (as was his duty of his Empire he kept saying blah de blah) and wasn't in the mood for taking messages concerning the dumb purchase of a smeet.
"If you're smart," Dib told the baby, "then you'll know this is good for you. If your tummy hurts, this will help. Honest."
The smeet blinked its deep oval eyes up at him, as if listening. Its intelligence was uncanny. Human toddlers could barely draw at three years old, and this little thing could write on a freakin' tablet.
"Go on. It's gotta taste good... I'm sure." He had no idea himself. For all he knew, the mysterious Irken's-don't-lactate formula probably tasted like mud for all he knew.
The smeet took a shy suck on the bottle, and these shy beginnings turned into a fierce eagerness as he took the formula with fast mouthfuls as he rediscovered his appetite. Both his little claws clutched on each side of the bottle as he slurped it down. He was out of practise in feeding, for already he was making a mess as excess liquid of a pulpy purplish kind drooled down his mouth. Using some tissues, Dib wiped away the drool with one free hand while the smeet took possession of the bottle. The dribbled formula reminded Dib of sap for some reason, and it was slightly sticky.
"Okay, that's enough." He grabbed hold of the bottle and drew it out of Zim's mouth. The smeet mewled for it, groping out with his little hands to retrieve it back from him. "You might not have eaten for days. It certainly looks like it and I don't want you vomiting it all back up again."
For he certainly didn't want to be covered in it.
Regardless if the smeet had understood him or not, he still mewled for the bottle, reaching out for it stubbornly as Dib held it high above his head.
"I'll give you some more in a minute! Let it go down first!" Dib insisted, hating the big, sad puppy eyes the smeet was now giving him. "You shouldn't drink it down so fast!"
It was like the smeet had been starved as well as dehydrated. A desert survivor would have gulped down a glass of water in exactly the same way.
He gathered the seller had fed the healthier ones in the glass cage, because they were more likely to survive and well, make money. It reminded Dib of the mother bird he had watched feeding the chicks in the nest in his back yard one early spring when he was about nine or ten years of age. There had been five in the nest, until one day, a tiny little chick had fallen out, and lay in the grass beneath the tree: dead. He had brought it to his father, trying not to cry, but crying anyway.
"The mommy bird left it there." He had said. "It won't get back up!"
His father had knelt down and patted him on the back in his usual, distant manner. "Now, now, son. It is merely the way of things. It is the strong who survive, and in order for that to happen, some creatures must perish."
Dib had gone on crying of course, and his father had taken him to the ice cream truck and given him a strawberry sundae. That stopped the tears, and he was able to get over it, more or less. Now, as an adult, he knew how nature worked, and also knew how damn cruel she could be.
Now he had the runt, and he wasn't about to let nature take the smeet away, because he was in control now. He supposed his father would not have approved, being a man of science and natural law. In order for change and evolution to happen, things had to perish. But a distant man putting himself on the edge of life had no room for any love in his heart, and that was what set him and his father apart. As much as Professor Membrane wanted Dib to be the Next Great Scientist, Dib did not possess the same cold apathy needed for the job.
And that was one of the many reasons why Dib built a ship, and left, to live the adventure, even if he might die doing it.
"Okay. Slowly now, and not all at once." He lowered the bottle back down again, watching the irresistibly cute way Zim tucked his claws around the sides of the bottle and sucked on the formula, even if he was still slurping it down a little too greedily.
Dib began repeating to himself: I'm not getting attached, I'm not getting attached!
NOT getting attached!
The plan was to dump this thing where it belonged, soon, so that he could continue back home. If he got attached, the incoming separation would be harder to accept. Sure, he was cute, but babies invested a lot of work, a lot of time and dedication, and Dib had too many things to do! There were too many planets still to see and record, and alien races to meet and to form alliances before they decided otherwise. He had rescued Zim from the market, and that was great! He had done his good deed for the day, week, whatever, as he had done this little mite a HUGE favour, but now he needed to pass the baby on to someone who could better care for it, and someone who wouldn't beat it to death.
This led him to consider Rath as the new foster parent, and if not, then Dib would have to just keep heading to Irk.
He wondered what Irk would be like. Judging by the few Irkens he had seen in passing, not very promising.
He definitely is my cute little accident.
"That's it. No more for a few hours, I think." Dib plucked the bottle out of those little claws, and Zim's mouth hugged the nip of the bottle for about three more seconds until it was pulled out. He whinged in surprise, trying to catch the departing bottle with his claws, but Dib was bigger by far, and placed it out of reach on the little side cupboard by the bed. "I think that should keep you going. How about some shut eye? Would you like that?"
He cursed at himself when he saw the spilled purplish liquid down Zim's new clothing. It was now staining the blue, silky material.
I suck at being a temporary dad. He thought. He had always been rather clueless when it came to human babies, let alone the alien variety. He had kind of left that up to the female race of his species to know about those sorts of things. But deep down, the real reason Dib didn't learn much about them was because he had never the time. He was always building, or inventing, sometimes spending whole days working on blueprints or new fuels for Blue Thunder, and even before the days of his ship, he was always tinkering on something while the world moved and breathed around him. Babies were loud, babies were messy. And he had never really seen them as 'cute.'
And now he had this adorable thing sitting expectantly on his lap.
"Should have bought you a bib, huh?" He sighed, running a hand across his forehead to feel the sweat there. "Yup. Nice move Dib. I guess you wanna sleep now, huh?"
The smeet watched him attentively, as if he was waiting on every word that Dib said.
"Not much of a talker, are you?" The human petted Zim's head, careful of the curling antennae. It was hard to access what the smeet was sensing or feeling, since his facial expression had hardly changed when he had brought him to the ship. The only thing he had ever done to express raw feeling was when he had been crying, and curling in fear.
And then Dib quickly, angrily discovered his next mistake.
Zim had no crib to sleep in.
No nothing.
Dib whacked his hand against the side of his head. "Great going, Dib!" And Flaxier 19; that ugly dust ball of a planet, was about a thousand clicks behind them. "I haven't been thinking very far ahead, have I?"
Zim's left antennae ducked low, followed by the other. He began to fidget on Dib's lap.
"You wanna... uh... poop?" Dib tried, safely knowing that at least Zim was wearing a diaper. For he hadn't bought a potty either, and the toilet Dib used would sooner suck the smeet in, and jettison him out somewhere into space if the flush mechanism was turned on.
A shuddering spasm coursed through the smeet, and he grabbed his tummy. It was the first of many cramps as fluid filled a shrivelled sac of a spooch.
"See, I told you you'd get belly ache from drinking so fast!" Dib gently admonished. One of the other 'few' things he had picked up was that newborns needed to be burped. He really wanted to high-five himself for at least knowing some stuff like this, or the smeet would end up vomiting to rid himself of a painful tummy ache, and Dib really didn't want that.
He picked the smeet up and rested him against his shoulder. He went to pat his back when his fingers met the solid spherical pod of metal that was there. He barely had had a chance to look at it, but he figured it kind of needed to be there. Every Irken he had ever seen had worn one, like it was important or something. So, trying not to touch it too much, he lightly thumped the smeet below the metal dome. Zim seemed staggered by this arrangement as if he had no idea what the human was trying to do to him, and the baby tensed, expecting some repercussive violence to follow.
I'm sure this will work. Gods, I have no idea!
He went on gently thumping the smeet, not sure how much pressure he could afford to use, and what was most effective. Of all the times he had been on Earth, watching lazy programs on TV or just being bored, chilling on the sofa with some wine, he wished he had picked up a book on babies and read it from cover to cover! That at least would have given him more mental preparation.
Zim began to mewl in his ear, probably because the cramps were getting worse, or because he didn't like what Dib was in the process of doing.
Mute or not, Zim still managed to make a lot of distressful noises.
Then there was a squeaky burp, followed by another louder one.
A warm spark of relief grew and grew until it filled Dib right up. He had done something right.
He slipped Zim back down into his arms. Again the baby Irken was looking up at him with utmost intensity. Dib's huge reflection filled his beautiful fuchsia orbs.
"Feeling better now?" He asked.
Zim nodded, his antennae springing back up as if they had previously been flattened down by pain. Now the pressure had been released, and the smeet was looking actively interested in things again, especially Dib. The smeet's incredible watchfulness was kind of appealing, as if he was getting attached to Dib in some way.
Dib shook his head. "I'm not your mommy, or your daddy." He told him. "I'm just taking care of you until someone else comes along. I'm human, see? We're very different, you and I. I don't have... antennas or claws. I'm not even green! I know Rath's white and all because he's an albino... but..."
The smeet looked away for the first time, and sniffed from nostrils that sounded congested with phlegm. And the shivers cycled up again. Incredibly, both antennae sunk right down until they were almost hanging limply from the back of his head.
"Hey, it's okay!" He said, trying to cheer Zim up. He did not think his words would be so adversely affect the smeet. He was still not used to how clever this little thing was, and how he seemed to pick up and understand every word he had ever said: like the baby was some tiny computer processor or something. "We'll find someone to take care of you! Don't you worry! I'll make sure of it."
It was all he could promise.
But Zim's antennae did not spring back up as they had done earlier, and his beautiful silky eyes remained averted in a cloudy, downcast kind of way.
Because he couldn't leave him in dirty clothes freshly stained from so short a feed, Dib did the labour of changing him again into a pretty pink pair that were just as soft, if a little big, for the sleeves and pant legs flopped over Zim's claws and toes quite comically. Then, because Dib had nothing to lay him down in for sleep, he sat him on the bed and he started peering around the living quarters of the ship for a box, or a carry case or something to hold the little thing in. It was too much of a risk to have a five day old smeet sleep on his bed. Even if the bed happened to have no legs, and lay flat on the floor like how the Japanese liked to sleep, the smeet could still tumble out. And Dib had nowhere to sleep either. The last thing he wanted was to roll over and crush the baby flat if he slept beside him.
"Come on, come on!" He started flinging things around, and hunting through cupboards and dresser drawers. It was easy to believe he was in a messy apartment room and not riding in a spaceship heading breezily through the darkness towards its set destination.
Real smooth for not buying a crib! Real, real smooth! I hope I don't need a pacifier too, because I didn't buy one of those either!
All the while he chastised himself as the baby silently watched his antics from the bed. Zim flinched a few times when Dib chucked some clothing behind him.
Dib felt like a dog digging its way to a bone, but instead of mud flying everywhere; it was clothing, slippers, hangers and magazines. A black boot flew and landed on the corner of the bed. Zim crawled on over to it as a sock landed on his soft skull. He picked up the boot and started tugging on the laces, fascinated with this new toy. Dib turned round, saw what he was in the process of doing and took it off him.
"No! It's dangerous, honey." He said. "Here. Play with these." And he gave the smeet some of the toys he had bought on Flaxier 19. There was a plastic model of a space ship, a soft badger, and a plush blue dog. Zim went for the plastic ship and tugged it apart easily with his claws. Bits of plastic went everywhere.
Before he tried to bite on the bits with his one tooth, Dib took it off him as well.
"No! You broke it! I can't have you swallowing the pieces."
The smeet squealed for the pieces to be returned, but Dib was already dumping them in the bin for later disposal.
"Note to self. Don't give him anything that breaks." Dib muttered, and went back to finding a suitable bed. There was a shoebox, bent and creased from long storage, but it was one size too small. He wanted the smeet to feel comfortable, not cramped up like a sardine in a can.
It took him some time to realize that there was nothing suitable in the bedroom. He looked to the smeet, and his heart ached with strange maternity when he noticed Zim stroking the fuzzy head of the blue dog with juvenile affection.
"Zim," he said, "I'm heading over to the designated eating room... I mean the uh... kitchen to try and find something for you to sleep in. I'll be two seconds. Don't do anything!"
One antenna dithered upwards, as if to pick up on his words, but the smeet gave him no other signs of acknowledgement.
I think I've gone and hurt his feelings.
Wow. He's five days old and already he's emotionally complex.
He was alternatively fascinated and daunted and anxious. If all Irken babies did was incoherently babble, and drool, and cry for food, he believed his job would be as easy as pie. But he wasn't dealing with something as simple as all that that had a brain of mush. He was dealing with a sensitive, emotional being who seemed to be already suffering from emotional trauma. Why else had Zim selectively become a mute? Unless there was something wrong with his throat or vocals? But he could cry! Loudly, at that too!
Dib went through the section where he cooked and ate, and peered in all the cupboards in there as well, hoping something would inspire him or be bed-like enough for a smeet of such tender age. He looked at the frying pans and shook his head.
When that search proved pointless, he dipped into the bathroom next to the big pantry where he stored all his edible goods, ration packs and NASA space travel foods.
In the bathroom, he threw open the shower curtain and peered at the fake windowsill with tired eyes.
Nothing here either.
He opened the medicine cabinet, and his towel cupboard. Inside was a basket made of real wood full of neatly folded, fresh clean towels. He picked it out and felt along the wooden ribs, estimating its size and capacity.
Yes! This will do perfectly!
He dumped the towels out of it and inspected the dusty innards of the towel basket for any bits of broken wood or dirt. He gave it a quick wipe with a cloth using recycled water and decided it would do very well. The basket was about 17 inches long and 12 inches wide. Zim could lie in it, snuggled with blankets without having to feel cramped, but with enough security to curl up in it and feel safe, for its sides were quite steep.
Bringing it with him, and using both his hands to hold it, for the wood of the basket was quite dense, he made it back to the bedroom. But when he returned, he stopped dead in the open doorway, clutching the basket to his chest.
Zim was still on the bed as instructed, but he was playing with hundreds and hundreds of white, fluffy feathers. Lying by his curled kneecap was one of Dib's pillows, and it had been ripped open down the middle, exposing its feathery viscera. Of these goose feathers, they slowly cascaded and floated, seesawing down around the smeet like snowflakes. Zim was reaching up and playing with them. Some had got in his mouth, and others were stuck to his antennae. A few had even tickled down the collar of his pyjamas. When Dib stood there, gaping at the destructive mess, Zim must have sensed he was there. He turned to look at the human, and his claws hung in mid-swing to catch the feathers. He looked very guilty.
"Oh my god." Dib watched the feathers scatter amongst the sheets and on the floor in their hundreds. He had really liked that pillow.
Zim shrunk away, cringing when Dib dumped the basket by his feet and came towards him.
"You like to destroy things, don't you?" He said, bringing up his hands to pick the smeet up. Zim protested a remorseful moan, shying from Dib's reach. Dib picked him up and moved him away from the shower of feathers. He then sat him on his lap and began plucking them off his little body. "It's okay, I'm not mad. I'm just angry." Dib muttered with a short sigh. He got Zim to open up his mouth by nudging his fingers against his lips to retrieve two very wet feathers. "No swallowing things unless its food! Now I've got to clear it all up! But only after I've sorted you out!"
He imagined the smeet had done it because it was fun. And curious. He did not like to think the smeet had done it on purpose for vindictive reasons. But he was still trying to get a grip on how baby Irkens worked, and the Halycon seller had warned him that the one he bought was a defective, whatever the heck that meant.
"Now, sit still for two minutes and don't do anything. I need to get your bed ready." Dib sat him on the floor and proceeded to get the basket ready. Luckily he had at least bought a bounty of blankets and pillows for this little thing, for those things had come to mind straight away on the hot, dusty streets of Flaxier 19, but, due to his inexperience, he had not thought of anything else.
He lined the hard base of the basket with padding and a long pillow that filled the edges. Then he layered another coverlet to cover the hard walls of the basket. Finally he added in pink pillows and fluffy pink blankets as extra comfort. It had become quite a luxurious bed from its humble beginnings as a storage unit for towels, and he was pleased at himself for another small accomplishment he had been able to fulfil.
He looked up at the clock on the wall hanging opposite his bed – positioned there so that when he was drifting between dreams, all he had to do was peek up and see it. And man, was he tired! He still lived his life by the clock. And he still functioned using Earth time, even if it never applied out here in the cold, unfriendly reaches of space. But it applied to him. Looking at the time reminded him how long it had been since he had last eaten, or slept, or relaxed. Most aliens did not constrain themselves to the primitive strings of time. They went about, fulfilling their quotas, their objectives, or their next mission report. Besides, each planet had its own time zone, its own set of rules depending on its orbit and rotation around whatever sun or suns it happened to be rotating around. So aliens went by their own schedules without adhering to the passages of time on a clock.
Now it was midnight back in America, and Dib was usually sound asleep by then. It was good to keep to a routine, and to eat and sleep plenty, should he run into any problems with his ship. It was also important to stay healthy when he had no one to depend on but himself.
For, with no sunsets or sunrises to depend on, he often set an alarm to signal when it was time for bed, or he could easily lose track of time.
Zim opened his mouth in a huge, gaping yawn. Dib noticed, as he was yawning, that he had a single little tooth in his upper mouth. Not only that, but he also saw the smeet's creepy and unusual lizard-like tongue that was especially slender and red looking, reminding him of earth worms.
"Well, bedtime! No more sleeping on dirty straw in cold glass prisons for you. You get the luxury suite!" Dib wrapped his hands around the smeet's little chest, and lifted him up. Then he deposited him in the basket and guided him down to rest, for the smeet still seemed perplexed as to what was going on. Zim was obviously not used to having a routine, or a bed for that matter, and so everything was new and unknown.
"That's it, lay down. God, I hope Irkens sleep. I wouldn't know what to do if you bounced around all night." He tucked him in, very pleased at the way Zim sunk into the plethora of blankets, all bundled up and cocooned in softness. Zim lay on his side, still holding himself tensely as Dib wrapped him up, making sure that all his hands and feet were well covered up.
Once that was done, Dib gently touched the smeet's forehead with the back of his hand to gauge his temperature. He wasn't cold, and that was good. If anything, he felt a little too warm. Zim suddenly sneezed, snuffling with nasal congestion.
"Still got the sniffles, huh? I'm hoping that will go soon."
He picked up the basket and took it out of the bedroom.
Sliding another door open with the press of a button while he straddled the basket against his hip as if he was carrying a pail of milk, Dib stepped into a spare room that housed all of his books and labelled files. It was slowly becoming his study or recreation room, away from the busy hubbub of the bridge. He had accidently napped here a few times, missing hailed calls from other alien vessels as they passed him by.
He placed the basket on the floor.
"You can sleep in here for now," he told the smeet, who was looking at him from his blankets. Slowly Dib was getting the gist of his emotions. They were there, but they were so subtle, so very discreet that it was hard to pick up on them. Humans were just so expressive, and their emotions could be read so easily that you didn't even need to step back and decipher them. But Zim's emotions were oftentimes clouded, and were not easy to notice unless you actually paid attention to them. The antennae were definitely a big part in it, and their gestures and motions were still grossly unknown. When Rath came to visit, his emotions had been even harder to detect. For all he knew, that albino Irken had been grimacing at him the whole while and Dib would have been none the wiser!
A dimple of confusion was showing on the smeet's face, for one antenna was raised as if in question, and both eyes were shimmering up at Dib in a pleading kind of way.
"It's perfectly safe in here, and I'm just in the next room. I'll come and check on you in a few hours, but right now Dib needs some sleep."
And he left it at that. He still had a room full of feathers to clean up and stuff back into his pillow, if the pillow was even repairable. So he stood up, approached the open doorway and stepped out into the corridor. As soon as he slid the door shut he could hear the smeet wail with newfound cries within the closed off room.
He'll get used to the idea.
But the smeet didn't get used to the idea. Even while Dib spent ages on the floor, cleaning up the feathers and gathering them into easy to manage piles, he could hear the smeet crying through the walls. And even after he had stuffed the feathers back into the pillow, and had done a poor job of sowing the ripped gash back up again, he could still hear the thing crying its heart out.
It took all of Dib's patience and willpower to not go and open the door, and to not go to Zim.
He'll exhaust himself.
He'll go to sleep.
It's better this way. I can't get attached to him. If he sleeps with me, I'll bond with him. He's not mine. He needs to learn that the hard way if that's what it takes.
About half an hour later, Zim was still wailing. Only, the cries had taken on a sunken appeal. Some were louder, in a tantrum-kind of way, and others were genuine sobs of lonely sorrow. Zim was cantering between anger and sadness. He wanted Dib to come in to see him. And was frustrated when it wasn't happening.
Dib couldn't stand it.
He knew this might be tough, but he didn't think it would be this hard.
Go to sleep, go to sleep.
The pillow was repaired, even though it looked misshapen and ugly and the last of every feather had been retrieved.
Dib then had a shower using hot, recycled water, for he was very careful how much he used, changed into soft, casual clothing and had himself a light meal of reconstituted beef lasagne and a tall glass of orange juice. Even way down in the cafeteria, he could still hear Zim's distant crying.
He had been at it for an hour now.
But when Dib had washed up his plates, and was about to turn in for some much-needed sleep, the cries took on a new sickly cadence. He could hear the smeet coughing and sniffling.
Dib had the door to the storage room slide open and he waved his hand in front of the motion sensor for the light to turn on. Zim was sitting up in his basket, soaked in fever. And he was trembling. Great rivers of snot glistened his upper lip and his eyes appeared to have sunken-in. Even his blankets were wet with stress-induced sweating.
Now Dib felt bad. Really bad.
He had just shut a five day old baby in an unfamiliar room, in the dark.
He had wanted to secure the freedom of having no attachments. Life would be easier that way. Now he was hiking that plan out the window.
"Zim, what's the matter? I'm right here!"
The smeet's face was wet with snot and tears. Dib could hear strange new wheezes emitting from his chest each time he wetly inhaled.
That can't be good.
"Okay, okay, you win little guy. You win. Easy now." He said as he approached the basket. Then he picked it up, feeling the smeet's hot little breaths against his neck. "Guess you'll be sleeping with me after all."
Dib07: Bam! Another chapter submitted! Yay! ;) Tell me what you think! I'd love to read your thoughts! Sorry for the wait, but I am thrilled in a BIG way how much of you are enjoying this, judging by the reviews!
