Zim huddled in the blankets, watching the snow drift down through the window. "I should be out there."

"Not on your life." Dib wrapped his scarf around his neck. "Look, if you go out there and he lands one good hit on you? You might lose her."

"You underestimate me!"

"And you overestimate yourself." Dib knelt down. "Look, Gir's here to get you whatever you need. If I'm lucky, I can get in a few good shots in and be back in time for us to make fun of whatever cheesy movie they're running for Christmas eve."

"I am! I'mma get myself a maid outfit…" Gir mused to himself, tapping his chin in an imitation of thoughtfulness.

"See? I'll just be a few hours."

"Can't the Earth military take care of it?"

Dib groaned. "I tried to talk to them about it, but they insist that they 'can't kill Santa' and that he's 'definitely gone now'." He made air quotes. "Besides, after last year, I think they finally set up the bio scanners so I'm not allowed on the premises anymore or they'll melt my skin."

"Hmmph, and you're going to let that stop you?"

"It's not worth it if they aren't going to help me. I'd ask Dad, but his Santa-hunting equipment got buried in that landslide a couple of years ago, remember?" Dib adjusted his gym bag. "You know I can handle myself, I'll be fine. I don't want him getting too close to my house or the base."

"But- but- you're too squishy and flammable and breakable!" Zim clutched at Dib's sleeves. Didn't he realize how much trouble he could be in? He was brave, yes, but also ridiculously reckless. He'd be leaving Zim all alone, which wouldn't do at all!

"My coat's reinforced with flexible armor." Dib rapped his knuckles against it. "I had it installed from having to deal with you, actually. It can handle Santa." He pried Zim's claws off of him, one at a time. "Just… turn on some cartoons or something. You can distract yourself until I get back."

"But you won't be here, how can I-" Zim cleared his throat. He was an elite invader, this was starting to just get sad. He could manage without Dib for a few hours- he'd done it for ages before! "I will be waiting. And if you are in need of assistance, I'll be there."

"If I need help, I'll call Gaz. Your job is to sit here and not die, got it?" Dib said, straightening up.

Zim crossed his arms. Well, he didn't have to be condescending about it. "Fine, fine. Go before I change my mind and keep you here."

"I don't think you can really make me do anything at this point," Dib said. "With any luck, I'll be back by eight."

"If you aren't, I'll begin preparations for your burial."

"Sounds fair," Dib said, hesitating for a moment and turning back. "Do we have a flamethrower?"

Zim pointed over to the side table, before grabbing Gir and stuffing his hands over the ears of his dog suit, keeping him staring at the TV. "There's a button on the back of the shelf and a secret compartment."

"Really?" Dib shrugged the bag with the missile off onto the couch to rummage around inside of it, and Zim heard a click. "Oh, neat! Have you always had this here?"

"Usually, I use the one down in the lab, but you can never have too many flamethrowers."

"Can't argue with that." Dib tested its weight in his hand. Gir stared at him, tail wagging.

"Wooooah! Cool! Did that come from the ninja dimension?"

"Nope," Dib said, pulling the gym bag back up onto his shoulder. "Relax, I'll be fine. In and out, I know his fighting patterns now!" He turned to Gir. "Gir, don't let him leave the nest until I get back, got it?"

Gir saluted, eyes flashing red for a moment. "Yes, sir!"

"Traitor," Zim grumbled, as Dib headed out the door.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be back before you know it!"

Zim would be pacing if it didn't make his back ache and his legs wobble. As it was, he was bouncing his leg and squeezing one of Gir's toys, after thoroughly scrubbing it of any sticky substances on a container of wet wipes he'd buried in the nest.

Gir was holding a toy moose and a toy pig, smashing their faces together as he rambled on a story that Zim couldn't follow. And he'd tried! Anything would be better than the gnawing deep in his guts. "Don't worry about me", hah! How could he not, with how Dib was literally throwing himself at trouble? True, if he didn't, Santa would simply show up and try to destroy the whole city with them included, but they had weapons built into the base in case of incidents like this.

He was Dib, nothing could kill him.

...He was Dib, a human, everything could kill him!

The fact that he could hear distant roars didn't help. The Santa wasn't quite as large as it had been the first year he'd created it, but it had grown exponentially from the tiny doll they'd reduced it to and was now about a size and a half as tall as the one-story skool. It had been that big last year, anyway, and with another year-

No, he couldn't let his incessant brainworms gnaw at him anymore. Dib was infuriatingly difficult to really, truly injure, and he did know Santa well enough by now. He'd be fine.

One of the roars shook the reinforced 'glass' of the windows, and Zim scrambled up, pressing his face to one of them.

Santa was badly bleeding melted mint into its beard and parts of its legs were melted. Dib was swaying on his feet, hair fractured into more pieces than usual with cuts and bruises littering his face. Meanwhile, the missile launcher was dented and coated in white and red at his feet next to the bag. He was trying to use the flamethrower with one hand, the other hanging by his side.

It had hurt him.

It had hurt him.

Fury flooded his veins, sticky-carbonated and as frantic as a broken nozzle on a soda dispensing machine, and Zim threw the door open. "Hey!"

Santa turned to him, and Dib whipped around.

"Holy-! We made it all the way back- Zim, what are you doing? "

The creature swatted at Dib, knocking him against a nearby fence, and Zim shuffled over to the missile launcher as fast as he could. He jammed the one remaining rocket into it from Dib's bag, and dropped to one knee under the weight as he set it on his shoulder.

"Leave my Dib alone!" Zim yelled, taking only a second to aim before firing directly at the largest wound on its side. The kickback knocked him back on his butt, and the smeet scrabbled about inside of him, making him nearly vomit.

The rocket tore through synthetic flesh, exploding the Santa in a shower of minty red goop that drenched both of them. Zim panted, rubbing his sore butt. "Oooh wow…" Scanning the immediate area, it was a holiday war zone of candy and goop dripping from every fence and wall, but nothing organic was moving. Nothing except for Dib, that was.

"ZIM!" Dib nearly slipped in the slick three times before giving up and just crawling over, making squishy wet noises as he did. He was soaked in so much Santa-gore that his skin was more red than anything else, and Zim tried to slide some off of his arms with his gloves as he scooted closer to Dib- it was all over, soaking him to the bones. Dib slapped his soaked palms to Zim's cheeks. "What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking you needed me," Zim scoffed. The smeet kicked again, and he gave his stomach a pat, smearing the minty gore around. "I was saving your father, don't get angry with me." He met Dib's eyes. "Are you broken in any way?"

"You could have died!"

"But I didn't! You needed me, no?"

"I had it handled!"

"No, you didn't," Zim argued, raising a hand to stroke down Dib's cheek. Some of the goo was soaking into the cuts on his face, and he winced. "Go clean up, you can shower me with praise later."

"Are you sure that you're okay?" Dib's hands ran down Zim's sides, then over his arms. "Nothing's broken?"

"I'm fine. Are you?"

"I'm just sore- you've done worse." Dib stood up, grabbing Zim by the armpits to lift him up.

"I have, haven't I…" Zim mused as Dib started slowly walking towards the front steps. "That must have killed it."

"Nah, remember that one year we set him and fire and he boiled from the inside out but he still managed to show up again?" Dib grumbled. "He'll be back."

"We'll be able to take him!" Zim grinned at their victory- normally, he loathed being covered in anything sticky, but the blood of his enemies was an exception now that he was certain Santa was defeated for the time being. Still, it was starting to stick to his antennae. "Shall we share the shower?"

"Is it going to fit both of us at once?"

"I need to make sure you aren't lying to me that you're not injured." Zim turned his head, growling at a particularly large pile of Santa-goo. "It hurt you. Nothing gets to do that except for me ."

"Zim, really-" Dib winced. "Ugh, that might not be a bad idea." They both made their way back to the house, with Dib moving slower than usual, something Zim took immediate note of.

Dib took a deep breath, wringing out his hair on the front mat before entering. "Computer, take us down to the room that has that gel-bath thing."

"Geez, did you two run into a warzone?"

"Minty!" Gir ran over, starting to lick at Dib's legs, and Dib nudged him with the toe of his boot.

"No, Gir. Go eat the stuff outside, we're going to go clean up."

"Okay!" Gir ran outside as the elevator opened up, and they climbed into it. Dib still hadn't picked him up, although he'd been so fond of it in the past few weeks.

Not that Zim was going to complain about being carried by Dib and having him do whatever he wanted, necessarily, but he had to preserve some of his dignity. Besides, now this was just concerning. Was he actually broken or just tired?

They managed to make it to the cleansing room without getting too much Santa-blood everywhere. He could just get Minimoose to clean it up later. Dib began to strip, removing his coat and then his shirt. Zim watched as red-soaked fabric peeled away from his skin to reveal a scarred body, wet from sweat and practically glistening under the lights.

"I'll get in first, then you can just sit in my lap, that'll probably allow us both to fit at the same time," Dib said as he pried his pants off his legs, making Zim blink. Oh, yes, they were going to clean up, weren't they? He tugged his own shirt over his head and kicked off his boots as Dib climbed in and hit the switch.

"Aren't you going to take your tights off?" Dib asked as Zim set his gloves next to the sink and carefully lifted his leg over the edge of the tub.

"Irken fabric can be cleaned along with the skin," Zim said, raising an eyebrow. "You bathe entirely naked?"

"Uh, yeah. I can leave on my underwear if you want, but-"

"It's fine." Zim rested his cheek against Dib's chest as the bathtub filled with floral-smelling pink gel, lifting up the red carnage left on his clothes and body as it did.

Dib shifted about in the tub, his muscles relaxing underneath Zim. Ah, so he was just tired. Good to know. Zim reached up to push a handful of the gel up towards his hair, which made Dib rub some against his scalp in return. The deeply human scent mixed with the gel, and Zim's antennae twitched, soaking it in. Dib on one side, twice his size now but holding him gently, and the cleaning gel at just the right temperature on the other...

He didn't realize how tired he was until the adrenaline had worn off, and he drifted away from consciousness as Dib set a hand on his back, keeping him close.

A/N: This one has two fanarts for it so if you want to check those out, hop over to the ao3 upload. My ao3 is linked in my profile, chapter numbers are the same.