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 becomes Dib's whole world, and the human space explorer soon has to defend Zim against those who want defectives dead.

Warnings:

Sci-fi adventure. Light swearing. Peril. AU.

Disclaimer:

I do not own the IZ characters. However this story and this idea is mine.

This gorgeous DAMNRIGHT GORGEOUS story picture/avatar I am using is not mine, it has been made by the lovely Alicartin! OH YEAH! This picture is owned by her. Please do not use without her permission. Thanks for reading! :)

As a side note, I did not realize how perfectly this adorable picture goes with this story! It's sooo... CUTE! ^_^


A/N:

This chapter is a shoutout to Alicartin who has made me glow countless times with her Discount Smeet art she made for me awhiles back. I know I have gushed about it before, but I gotta gush again! Plus her lovely message on Tumblr gave me the encouragement to push out this update, which was due a long time ago! I just hope it was worth the wait! XD


guestrev: Thanks, heh, I enjoy writing it, I hope you like this chapter as much as the ones before it!

Intrigued Reader: I hope there's still time, and that you haven't exploded yet! Quick, here! It's all yours!


Chapter Eight: Home Sweet Home

'It's my problem.' His own words echoed resolutely through his head. As did Rath's cool, almost uncouth reprisals.

'Each Irken has his own demons to struggle with, and overcome. Yours shall be no different. I hope you have not made the wrong decision.'

The trip back to the ship was a sad one. And Zim looked to him; unsure what Dib was thinking, or planned to do with him now. As if the infant was very much aware of the burden he was and had become in the space of five minutes. It was never something Dib had intended him to hear, or had expected things to turn as foul as they had. He had wanted, expected an easy exchange as it might have gone on Earth between two humans. But Irkens were a lot more complicated and foolhardy than he had ever imagined. He had not realized that Irkens were encompassed entirely by politic agendas, war and status. If Zim hadn't been a defective, Rath may well have taken him to an Irken soldier who then would in turn deport him back to Irk for his proper evaluation and conscription into service.

But Zim was a born defective, which meant he was about as useful to the Empire as a crooked screw. And even if there was a problem physically and mentally with the smeet, Dib could not have him killed.

The Irken system was clinical and barbaric. Their ways reminded him of mankind during the days of Spartan men and women who dumped their sickly newborns into rivers, gullies or on the dry wastes surrounding their city. Like the Spartans, the Irken Empire was only interested in the strong, and the capable. The meek were pushed to one side, and discreetly disposed of. Perhaps the 'defective' smeets at the market had not been 'dumped' after all as Rath had suggested, but had been prematurely ejected out of their incubators because the system found their development unsatisfactory. After that, only Zim knew the rest of the story, and how he had ended up on Flaxier 19.

Rath's words continued to sting:

'You're right about that. Defectives don't belong anywhere.'

'You humans are infinitely soft, aren't you? Rescuing every little broken thing you come across as if it's yours to save.'

Taking Zim back to Irk was not going to happen.

Like a noose tightening around him, his chances of passing Zim on to another plummeting, he felt like there was nowhere else to go, no other option to cling to.

Unless... unless he kept him. And risked taking him home, back to Earth.

If he did that, his whole life would have to become a carefully constructed secret. He'd have to live apart from the other humans, and have a home in the mountains perhaps, where Zim could live freely until their next voyage into deep space. To have an alien...wondering about on Earth's soil. It was so strange. So bizarre.

But to have such a companion felt pretty hopeful. Yet it meant disposing of any possible chance of leading a normal human life with his fellow species. He'd never have kids, never have a partner. He'd devote all his time to space travel, and to this strange creature he had adopted. Dib wondered if he still would have bought Zim, knowing the consequences he did now.

As he made his way back through the throng of aliens towards the Emporium, and towards Blue Thunder's docking station, he heard a call behind him. He was almost too afraid to look in case it was one of those soldier Elites come to whip him for blinking too many times or doing something else equally innocent.

"Dib human."

It was Rath, limping along with his elegant staff. When he drew closer, his voice was low, and his eyes still held that splintery condensation as if he looked to Dib with much loathing when in fact it was simply his naturally tense expression.

"Here." He dropped something heavy into Dib's hand. "There may be a way to conscript Zim into service."

Dib actually felt his heart stop dead in his chest. He paused a lucrative moment to look at what it was Rath had dumped into his hand. It was an black acorn shaped pendent. But a closer look revealed intricately embossed veins on the thing, looking more like a heart than an acorn.

"But you said...!"

"Technology has moved on since I was conscripted into service as a smeet." Rath seemed to press on, his earlier patience worn dry as if he was worried of onlookers. But the street was pretty thick with crowds, and Dib hoped it would camouflage them for the time being. "I can fabricate a chip. One that can hide Zim's defectiveness from the Control Brains until he is of age where they can't so easily destroy him. It will at least give him a chance."

"Control brains? Conscription? But... he'll be a soldier, like you!"

"Yes! It's the future of every Irken! Isn't that what you so wanted, child of Earth? A chance for this woebegone creature to live a normal, serviceable life – a life that can bestow seldom privileges."

"But you said he won't live that long! That'll he'll be doomed to live a broken life on the sidelines!"

"Not if his status is one of the greatest pretence. But it'll be your job to get him stronger. If he survives his first month, you only activate this charm. The chip should be ready by then. I know of your backwater planet, though I too have heard of its poisonous air and waters. I will not tarry there long, once I arrive to claim this Irken. Or you may signal me on some other planet, if you do not wish it of me to come to your dirty Earth."

"What's this going to cost me?"

Rath looked conceited then and there, and his earlier openness and charm seemed to swirl right down the drain. "The debt will not be yours to pay. It will be Zim's. Once he is conscripted, and of age, I will employ him under my services. Maybe he will prove useful to me after all. And maybe, just maybe, in the near future, you two will meet again, but as enemies."

"Like he'll forget me that fast. How's this chip even going to...?"

"It'll be like a microprocessing adapter, able to render his corruption blind to any computer, because computers are easy to fool once a wizard knows how." And he tapped the side of his head. "It won't change him. Of course. But I can bend perceptions."

Dib looked at him doubtfully, trying to foretell what the story really was behind his malicious eyes of deepest red. But Rath revealed very little as he stared right back, one hooked claw resting piously on his robed hip, the other stationed on his staff. There was little to deduce what he really felt, or meant. Dealing with an alien who knew more than him, and had far superior technology at his disposal wasn't very wise. Especially when Earth could be a high prize indeed for anyone interested. But it was the way out Dib was seeking.

"Will you be good to him?"

"As best as any teacher can be. But in war, we do not make friends out of each other, human child. And do not think any less of our methods just because you are not a soldier."

"I'll keep that in mind." His eyes darted left and right as he gave it thought, but Rath looked smug. Smug, because he knew the decision Dib would rise to. "Fine. You make that chip, and it had better work!"

"Remember. One month from now. An Earth month. I'll be waiting for your signal. And do not be hard on yourself if mortality takes the smeet. Weaklings are ill fit for the tough lives we all lead." And with that he turned, the robe sweeping along the ground as he made his retreat, the staff preceding every step made with his right leg.

Like all solitary, unsentimental Irkens bred into the military, he did not look back. And faded into the crowd.

x

Zim was quiet on the way back, his head heavy on Dib's shoulder. Every so often his chest pulled in a difficult breath that made a bubbly sound, and he'd squeak up coughs. Dib kept him covered for much of the journey back, and when the cargo doors of Blue Thunder opened, he stepped up onto the ramp and had it close behind him. Dib felt a little safer since arriving, but he would feel safer still once he had undocked and they were moving.

Cradling Zim with one arm, he went to the bridge and set the co-ordinates to exit the Aggros system. He had a tight feeling in his chest; a niggling worry about Rath's choice of words, the Irken Empire's expanding armies, and what could await him back on Earth if he chose to keep Zim. These worries and problems were piling up, making him feel heavy with responsibility. He had not wanted any of this, and yet he had taken it on a plate, and now he had to sit down, and eat it.

x

"Zim. Zim, look at me."

When his beautiful starry eyes did not look up, Dib gently tucked a finger beneath his bony chin and lifted his head up. His bulbous eyes of many refracting colours: pink, cherry and dashes of mauve, diffidently looked up into his tired, dull amber ones.

They were on the observation deck, and beyond the line of empty couches was a massive screen showcasing every star the eye could see. The darkness was bright with the lambent glow of a thousand suns. And each one left a trace of silver in Zim's reflecting eyes. But the smeet had not graced the stars with a single look. Ever since returning to the ship, he had turned away from Dib at every opportunity, looking about as downtrodden on as an orphan could get. No doubt the words Rath and Dib had said were still going on inside the smeet's little brain.

Dib had rather hoped the screen on the observation deck would brighten the smeet's little heart. But it was not working. He realized that it was only he himself that could re-ignite that smouldering spark, and nothing else.

Dib sat across from the smeet on the stool, realizing that, in order to guide the smeet back from the shadows of doubt and self-regret that would surely eat Zim whole, he would have to take the first step.

"I'm sorry. Really sorry for putting you through that. To me, you are not a 'defective' as Rath called it. To me you are an Irken named Zim. And... and I would like to... to keep you, if that's okay. I'm... I'm really sorry it took me this long to realize. It's just because... well, I'm human, and I live on a planet far, far away. But, if you'd like, we can live together. For however long you want."

Zim's eyes flashed away from his, and he looked incredibly sad, incredibly betrayed. To think that such a baby could contemplate so much... and be so emotionally weighed down. Dib wished he had been able to save Zim from the debauchery of life and its cold indifference and shield his innocence for as long as fathomably possible.

He struggled to think of what else to say. Zim did not seem to want to speak, as if doing so would open him up to indefinite hurt. Regardless of his muteness, his expressions, though subtle, were perfectly loud to Dib. For the first time in his life, Zim was, for a second time, faced with being all alone. Dib had not wanted him. And Rath had labelled him as something broken, and that all things broken had to be thrown to the wayside, where they belonged.

"Zim. You must speak. Say something! Anything!"

But the smeet did not meet his request with a look, or a sound.

"Zim, I was scared, okay? I've never had anything to look after before! I didn't know what to do! And... and when Rath explained to me just how unique and special you were, I... I suddenly realized how much I wanted to have you. To bring up. To protect. I've decided what I want, Zim, not what I think I should do, or what's responsible of me. And do you know what I want?" There was the meekest shake of Zim's head. "I want to look after you. I want to be your father. If you'll have me."

Zim actively looked up at him, and his glossy eyes full of sweeping shadows reflecting the barren coldness within had vanished. He got up, waddled two steps over to Dib and hugged him. Dib closed his arms over the smeet in a glad and loving embrace.

"You're staying with me." He whispered beside his antennae. "This ship is your home now. We're going back to where I came from. We're going to Earth."

Accepting Zim as his own felt right somehow, even though Dib knew he had begun a new stage of anxiety when he would get to Earth, but he pushed it right back into the corridors of his mind, and basked in the happy glow that filled him completely. Dib had tried so hard to do the right thing that he had failed to see what might have made Zim actually happy. And now he realized it. Zim hugged him with frightened fierceness, as if in the moment of letting go, Dib would irrevocably change his mind, and cast Zim into a pile for the broken and the unwanted. Had the Nox merchant filled his head with much the same talk? It seemed possible, and Rath's cold apathy in the matter may have just reopened Zim's wounds that hadn't yet started to close.

"It's going to be okay, Zim." Dib said, alternatively stroking and hugging the baby, "We're going to be okay."

If only that were true.

x

A few days later

x

Blue Thunder blasted its jets downwards, turning a simple landing into a bit of an art. The blasters greased out huge amounts of hot air that turned into violent geysers that would have swatted anybody down, even buildings. Its underside was bright with warning flashlights as it manoeuvred gently, but loudly downwards. Even after it landed, sending many of the scientists back as they tried to press forwards, the damage on its hull was clear. Mostly along its stern, and starboard side, were huge dents left by brief collisions with stray asteroid debris or interstellar dust. But majorly, its integral hull was intact.

The inner hatch opened, and Dib proudly stood in the doorway as the ramp descended. As per usual upon every arrival, his return brought its own media flurry. People stood back, their cameras rolling, and the bright flash of cameras zipped off his glass lenses like lightning strobes. His father, the tallest amongst them, stood out, and always approached his son first.

"How was it son? Did you see Pluto? Did you go beyond our known solar system and into the great beyond?"

Oh, I've done more than that. He thought wily. "Oh, yeah. I saw a couple of nebulas. Visited Proxima Centauri. Nothing special." More cameras blinked in front of him. No doubt he'd be one the front page of Space Time magazine again. He wished they didn't all swarm around him like seagulls every time he returned. Wish they'd just let him pick up his stuff and go home. It was bad enough walking off a ramp from a plane ride around the world, but he'd come from an all-round trip across many galaxies, and he was bone tired. But, of course with all things forbidden in the alien department, he had an even bigger reason to get away, and that was the baby alien he kept tucked up in his bag. He had to forgo any other item to avoid suspicion, and had warned Zim to not make any noise, which sounded like a strange request asking a mute to stay quiet. But the last thing he wanted was Zim to be discovered, snatched out of his bag by the scientists, and paraded around like some otherworldly trophy for all the world to see. Then Zim would spend his last moments living like a lab animal.

"Have you been to any other constellation?" The cameras pressed close.

"Other than Sagittarius? Yeah. I might stroll through the Ophiuchus system, or maybe Orion next time. We'll see."

A photographer got in his way, and aimed the camera right at him, holding a microphone in the other hand. "Any sign of alien life?" He asked Dib.

He had already been prepared for these invasive questions, and the ludicrous media frenzy that came hand in hand with being the professor's son and owning the world's fastest spaceship. So, with practise, lying had become a whole lot easier. "No. Not at all. Space is just stars and cosmic dust." His bag started to jostle as the tiny baby inside began to fidget. Dib's practised calm began to melt around the edges. A silly, lopsided smile graced his lips as he nodded at the media crew as he tried to pass them by. But his father grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him away. He was still trapped.

"What a venture, my boy, what a venture!" Professor Membrane was slapping his son's shoulder proudly, his voice thick with cheer. He always seemed very happy whenever Dib returned, be it because of his space travel achievements, or simply because he was glad to see him alive and well until his next decade-long endeavour through the galaxies. "I am so very proud of you! I'd come too, but my age desists my lust for such long and weary voyages! It is not a journey for the old. And besides, my place is here, developing all that this besotted world needs."

"Maybe I'll take you sometime, dad. I think you'll like it."

"And how are you? Fairing well, I trust? You look tired, son. Is everything okay?"

The media was following them like some strange locomotive made out of humans. The snap of the cameras went off, and they were murmuring amongst themselves. The ship in question; Blue Thunder, standing proud under its huge shaft where he had made a jerky landing, looked proud and yet somehow sullenly majestic despite its many dents and bumps to its hull. He had seen Flaxier 19 in that ship. Seen Irkens in that ship. And travelled such a distance that no man may ever cross again. Space was a dangerous place, barbed in risky opportunities. And he had ended up coming home with a baby alien not native to Earth, or its bacteria, or its atmosphere. He worried about Zim's health a lot, and worried about being found out by his own race of humans.

"I am tired." Dib confessed. "I just want to go home. I can fill a report in later if you like. I'm not used to the gravity here either. I feel ten times heavier than I've been all year."

His father laughed, clapping his poor old son one final time on the shoulder. "I understand! Go for a ride in the limoscene I have waiting for you outside my lab! My treat!"

x

Dib shuffled into the backseat, delicately placing his duffel bag on the seat beside him as he shut the door. The cameramen pressed themselves to the glass outside, still snapping away shots at their renowned 'space boy.' Dib gave them one last smile, when really he just wanted to flip them the bird. Still, as much as he enjoyed the fame once upon a time, he knew it was the curse he had to ride with. The public loved him, and loved him even more when he put his own life at risk just to satisfy human curiosity. But he did it for himself. Not for them.

"Where to, Mr. Membrane?" Asked the limoscene driver.

"Urm, Lincoln, please. Maple."

"Right away."

Just as Dib clipped his seatbelt shut, the bag did that funny little jerk again. Dib grabbed the bag in the hopes the driver hadn't noticed, and put it on his lap. He bent low over the bag, and whispered; "Hush. Not long now. Just lie still!"

"You okay back there?" The limoscene driver was watching him in the rearview mirror.

Dib nodded, sweating just a tad. "Yeah! Just talking to myself, that's all!"

But the bag wobbled again, as if Zim was actively defying him. No doubt it was fun to challenge the parent, when he did not realize the dangers the very parent was trying to protect him from. Either that, or Zim was just plain uncomfortable, and hated the cramped, dark space he had been confined to. For he had been in there for almost 30 minutes.

The phone in his pocket tinkled. It made him start, having not been used to the nature of mobile phones during his space flight endurances. He picked it up, toggling its touch screen to answer it, thinking it was his dad filling him with praise once again. But it was not.

"Dib! Why didn't you call me as soon as you landed? You bastard."

His heart did an uneasy double beat in his chest when he recognised the voice of his sister. "Gaz, I haven't even got home yet! I'm dirty and I'm tired. I was gonna call you!"

"That's not good enough! You had me worried sick! I'm coming over!"

"No, wait! Don't..." But the line went dead. She had already hung up. "Jeez. That girl." He muttered.

Great. Flipping fantastic! His worry came on again, tighter than before, so much so, that he felt dizzy with it.

IF she came round, he'd have to stuff Zim in some other hiding place yet again.

This was only his first hour back on Earth, and already he felt way out of his depth. Hiding an alien felt sound on paper. But actually putting it into practise was nigh impossible. As if in tandem, there was a squeal from inside the bag. When the driver came him an eyeful in the rearview mirror, Dib pretended to wheeze and cough, which was not an easy thing to fake.

This smeet's getting angry, Dib. And if he gets mad enough, he might just burst out of the bag for a nice fat surprise. Then try explaining yourself to the driver! He thought to himself, chewing his lip enough to make it bleed.

In another five minutes, the driver had parked up along the curb by his home. To see the house again, after years and years of space, and darkness, and lonesome stars blinking in the ever reaches of nothing was a dream he thought he may never achieve. Nothing could quite beat the humbleness of coming home, and seeing simple plain bricks and mortar that meant so much. It lifted the tiredness from his shoulders and chest, and made him feel bright with hope again. "Thanks, Tom." He said, about to hand him a tip.

"No need." Tom, the driver said. "Your dad paid big bucks to drive you home first class."

Dib nodded his appreciation, gave the driver a wave and struggled out with the bag in tow. He slammed the door shut and watched the limo drive away. To be alone once more, and not to be pestered by anybody, was a boon to his soul and mind.

"Nearly there, Zim." He said aloud, and walked to his front door. After digging up the keys from the submerged depths of his pocket, he opened the door, and stepped inside, closing it behind him. The peaceful sound of its own private solitary was truly sweet indeed. Then, gently, he plopped the bag down on the carpet in the hallway, and unzipped the bag.

Zim's head immediately popped through the opening, breathing harshly as if, during the trip, he had begun to suffocate.

Dib grimaced, forgetting to leave an opening for air to get in. "Sorry, little fella. But I didn't want anyone to see you." He went to pat the smeet's head, but Zim shied from his touch, as if still angry with him. "Yeah, I'm a dope. I know. Anyhow, this is my sweet abode, Zim Zam. This is my home. And it's yours now too."

Anger forgotten, Zim scanned the hallway with curious, large glossy eyes. He gave everything a once-over. The ceiling. The carpet. The adjacent stairway. The door leading to the parlour, and the one to the kitchen. Almost excitedly, he went to leave the bag, only to tumble heavily on his knees like a clumsy human child.

Dib picked him up, and placed him gently back on his feet again. He was plenty warm, he found, thanks to the snug blue pyjamas he was wearing. "Earth gravity." He said apologetically. "It caught me by surprise too."

Stubbornly, the smeet knocked Dib's helping hands aside and waddled off on his own, desperate he was to explore and to learn and to see. Dib stood back, still feeling sick to his stomach at how he was going to execute all this: and keeping the baby alien a secret. And his home functioned purely for a bachelor. He had already paid the first expense at keeping Zim a secret. He had ejected all his baby stuff except for what he was wearing through the shutter hatch in space. Because, he knew that as soon as he landed, his dad and his party of scientists would go over his ship with their magnifying glasses, studying all there was to see. Dib had had to fake the records in his archives showing where the ship had been, and had to hide all his data on his computer. Blue was good at keeping secrets, which was just as well. But lying to his own fellow species did not feel good, and he was beginning to hate himself for it more and more every day he lived on Earth.

Zim patted into the kitchen, his little eyes trying to take it all in at once. At least he wasn't wilting like a dying flower in the Earth's new atmosphere, and he seemed to be doing rather well.

"D-Dib. Home." His little voice, so casually slipping out, took his father by surprise.

Dib was by him in a heartbeat. "What did you say?"

Zim glanced up at him, and Dib could still see the stars in the depths of his fuchsia eyes, reminding him of the baby's faraway origins. "Your home."

Dib could not contain his massive grin. "It's your home too, little guy." Zim's gaze held onto his for just a little while longer, and then he continued his avid exploration. Dib was still beaming. What was it that had finally clicked? What was it that had got Zim speaking? Was it because of what he had said to him in the observation deck? He was too afraid to push Zim any further; worried this might break the spell, and seal the baby's voice up again.

Just run with it Dib.

It furthered the theory that Zim had been holding himself back this whole time, as if afraid of... what? Commitment? Loyalty? So used was he from being passed from one pair of hands to the next, and not allowing himself to speak and therefore build relationships?

At least there was nothing wrong with his vocals then. Or his throat.

The smeet ran his eyes up and down the large, towering kitchen cabinets. Everything was much sparser, and more spacious than what he had been used to on Blue Thunder. He walked giddily across the tiled linoleum floor, his socked feet making soft little patting noises. Then he wandered over to the patio glass doors that looked upon Dib's proud garden that had subsequently become overgrown since his last visit. It was a green paradise of such avid greenery that Zim was drawn to it, as if amazed by the verdure. He kept on walking, thinking he could reach that green pasture until he hit the glass door with a rattling thump. Dib grimaced and came over, thinking that at any minute the smeet would explode into tantrum-fuelled tears and screams. But Zim merely brushed himself off and stood back up again, knocking his little fist on the glass experimentally.

"That's glass, honey. I'd open the door, but let's save it for another day, huh? You've got the rest of the house to explore don't forget."

Zim seemed hesitant to leave. He had never seen forest before, or such lush grass, or the colourful flowers that bloomed along the back garden path. If he pricked his antennae high enough, he could hear the distant sounds of summer birdsong; the wail of police car sirens giving chase somewhere in the city, and a dog barking.

As he stood there, curiously taking it all in, and still sometimes banging lightly on the glass as if he was half-expecting a portal to open up for him, Dib stood back, glad he did not have a cat flap or he would have already lost his smeet halfway down the garden, and it was a big garden.

He turned to the fridge, and opened it, disappointed to find that the only thing sitting on the shelf was half an onion that didn't look so good, a lemon, a carton of spoiled semi-skimmed milk, and some really, really mouldy bread that looked about as green as the garden outside. The cupboards yielded very little as well, not counting the box of oatmeal, and tins of soup and beans. He'd have to go shopping. For smeet and human alike.

Yet, when he next turned, he found the glass door absent of baby alien. In fact, Zim wasn't in the kitchen at all. Panic rolled in on him, as potent as a hammer hitting his chest, and his wide eyes swept the kitchen as his heart pounded. "Zim? Zim, where'd you go?"

He had diverted his attention for just a few minutes, that was all! He went down the hallway and heard a cheerful cry coming from the front parlour. Zim was sitting on a soft sheep rug with a white pot of something in his claws.

"Zim, what do you have there?" He was relieved that he hadn't gone very far after all, and that the stairs may prove an obstacle too steep for such a young baby to tackle so soon. He quickly thought of maybe installing a baby gate to prevent any catastrophes involving stairs.

"Dopamine!" Zim chuckled happily, holding the pot of drugs in his needle-like claws. He was pleased with himself, because he had mimicked the words on the bottle.

"Where'd you get that?" Dib was sure he had left that on the table or maybe the shelf when he left his home some months prior, and the shelf was 4 feet from the floor. There was no way Zim could have reached that. He hurried over to grab it off him, knowing the pot had a child-proof lock on it anyway, when, as if to answer his question, a tapered, long (oh-so-horrifyingly-long) metal strut swept out of the baby's metal dome on his back and rocketed backwards, smashing a bunch of stuff all along on Dib's mantelpiece. Dib threw himself backwards, hitting the lounge door and breathing hard, a look of horror peeling outwards on his face. Zim just squeakily chuckled, crying out : "Dopamine!" as if he loved saying the word.

Then the metal strut from hell disappeared again, as if the dome on the baby's back was sucking it back inside.

Were those...weapons he just saw?

Dib swallowed. And swallowed again.

Jeez. Thanks Rath. He thought with resentment, knowing full well that the albino Irken must have known about these secretive abilities, and had chosen instead not to warn him about them.

Well, when you adopt a baby alien that happened to originate from a military planet invested in war, what do you expect? And a baby that happens to melt when it comes into contact with water. Yeah. Fun times ahead, Dib.

Zim looked fondly up at him, smiling.

I don't think he knows how to control it. Whatever the hell that was that erupted out of his... PAK thing.

And without proper training, how could Zim know?

"You gonna put that down, Zim?" He asked, knowing that he was still pressing himself up against the lounge door.

Zim dropped the pot. And the rattle of the pills instead encouraged another giggle out of him.

Dib relaxed, but only slightly. "You're full of surprises, aren't you?"

xxx

This is a stupid idea! Stupid!

He pushed the shopping cart forwards, trying to act normal. Zim was riding in his rucksack, which Dib wore on his shoulder. He could not leave the baby home alone in fear of making him sick again, (and for the health of his own house as well) but he wasn't great about the whole 'I'm taking him with me' idea either. But if he kept a low profile, and had Zim stay still, his head mostly hidden by a blanket, he would hopefully be passed off as a doll or toy. And things were actually working. Dib had already been down two aisles without incident. However, as he made to grab a packet of noodles, a girl was standing opposite him in the aisle, staring at his rucksack. Wherever Dib went, the girl followed, like she was some floating, soundless apparition. And when she wasn't there, she was peeping round a corner, always watching.

"Honey?" Her mom called to her somewhere down the second or third aisle where Dib could not see. "What are you doing? Stop wandering around and stay close to me!"

"But mommy, that man has an alien!" And she even pointed his way. Dib felt himself knot up all over.

"Yes, I'm sure he has." Came the uninterested response, "Now come here!"

Dib could start to breathe again. Yet, when he passed down the toy aisle to get to the bath products, Zim reached out of the rucksack to grab one of the toys on the shelf. Bright, pleasing colours was an instant attraction to Irkens, and Zim was no different. He grabbed a beige plush bear that was about half as big as he was.

"Zim! Put that back! You've got enough stuff in the cart already!" He whispered. And, to make matters worse, the girl was back, closer than ever.

"Mister." She said to him. She wore a pink dress, and her hair was in cute little pigtails. "What's the alien's name? Is it friendly?"

It took a second for Dib to realize who she meant. He tried to keep the rucksack out of her vision, not that it did much good. "Uh... what alien?"

"The one in your bag!" She said as if he was stupid. "Where'd you get it? I want one too." She had to be no older than seven.

"Oh, I'm sure a toy store sells them somewhere." He went to move away, and still, she followed. Dib could not scan his items fast enough through the checkout. He bought the beige bear too, and could only relax again when they were back in the car. Just as he was buckling up, Zim in a new babyseat in the back and cuddling his soft bear, the first drops of rain hit the windshield.

"All buckled in, buddy?" He called to the smeet at the back, who squealed happily in reply. "Good. Let's get the fuck out of here."

"Fuck out of here." To which the baby replied in perfect English.

"Yeah. Better be careful what I say, huh?"

Dib pulled up to his driveway, grabbed the shopping in one hand, and picked up Zim in his rucksack in the other. The rain was coming down heavier, spilling in resolute torrents and causing rapidly filling puddles that greased the roads and sidewalks. Cars flurried on by, creating mini waves of water as they sped past. Instinctively, Zim tucked himself right down as far as he could go within the depths of the bag, but he let out wild, frightened squeals as if the very sound and dampness of the rain caused him great alarm. He was holding onto his bear the whole time, and just as Dib tried to juggle out his keys, the plush toy slipped from his claws, and hit the wet pavement below. Unnoticed by Dib, he shoved the door open with his shoulder and went on inside, closing the door behind him. Zim jumped out of the rucksack and ran on legs still too ungainly for him to wield, so he flipped over onto his chest with a painful thud. Then he was up again, scrabbling for a control panel that would open the door. But there was no control panel.

"Zim, why do you want to go outside? It's raining. You'll melt into sticky green goo."

"Toy!" He said, not yet knowing the appropriate word for 'bear.' "In wet! Toy! I dropped it!"

"Just no running and getting hit by a car. Understand? You stay behind me." Dib wasn't sure if this was a trick. Being as smart as he was, Dib had to prepare for anything. But he did open the door, and he did see the brand new toy getting soaked right down to the core of its stuffing. It lay like something dead and wet on his front porch. Dib ran out, snatched it up in one hand and brought it back inside. This was turning into a bit of a mess. If someone had seen him open the door, and seen the tiny alien waiting anxiously on his indoor mat, he was so fucked. "Don't touch it, Zim Zam." He swung the wet toy away whenever Zim made to grab it.

"No! No! Toy!"

"It's got to dry first!" He walked right past the suffering child, and dumped the wet toy into the tumble dryer in the kitchen. When Dib went to unpack the shopping, he looked round to see the smeet pressed against the glass door of the tumble dryer, watching his favourite toy go round and round inside. It was then that Dib noticed a nasty looking patch of dark green on Zim's cheek as if he had knocked or scratched himself there. The human knelt down and tilted Zim's face towards him by lifting his chin up with his finger. "You scratch yourself, Zim Zam?"

"No." He squeaked, his large eyes blinking worriedly.

"I didn't notice it earlier. You must have bumped yourself. You've done lots of falling down today." He went to touch the dark patch, thinking it to just be a bruise, when the skin came away, sliding out from under his finger like butter. Underneath was wet, suppurating flesh. "Oh..." Dib didn't know what else to say, but his mind was in a huge tussle of concern. Maybe it was just how Irkens...bruised? He slid up Zim's blue pyjama sleeve, and alarmingly found more of these strange rash-like blemishes where the skin appeared to be peeling.

I can't deal with anymore problems. He thought just as the doorbell rang. He would have ignored it on any other day, but this was one visitor he could not ignore. In the next two seconds there came a series of heavy banging that even made the pictures in their frames wobble against the wall.

"Dib! Open up right now! I know you're in there! Your car is in the driveway!"

"Oh no! It's Gaz!" He looked to Zim, having no clue where to hide him, especially when his cheek was still peeling. Was he moulting? Was this how Irkens grew? But he looked no bigger...

"Dib!" His sister called outside.

In a crossroads, feeling pulled apart in two different directions, Dib stood up, wondering how long his door would hold out for.

Zim took about two steps behind him, looking very upset and agitated.

Then Gaz crammed a key went into the lock.

Oh yeah. My sister has a spare key! How very unfortunate of me!

She threw the door open like she was a cop jumping in on a raid.

Then came the uncomfortable and confused silence between them as Dib stood, soaked in wordless dread, with Gaz laying wide eyes on the alien standing off to one side in the kitchen doorway.