"What do you mean?" Dib asked, equally as curious as he was fearful. The cut on his chest stung, though shallow, and he couldn't help but wonder why.
Zim was still quiet, as if he hadn't heard him the first time he asked. Dib already knew the answer to the question, but he asked to clarify completely to avoid a total meltdown. After several moments, Zim turned his head to look up at the human.
"It will…it will…" he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. It absolutely terrified Zim to think about such a concept, even more than the thought of Tallest Red's wrath. Though he considered himself fearless for the most part, it didn't matter right now. The mental image of the…the monster, eating its way out of him like a larvae, struck him cold to the core.
Call it a survival instinct, a refusal to die so easily, but Zim hated it. He hated that he hadn't taken the suppressants and hated the human-thing even more. It was ENTIRELY his fault that Zim was in this situation to begin with. On top of that, he hated how his nether regions stung and felt swollen. All of this was the Dib's fault.
"It will…be my end," Zim finally concluded, his tone sharp with anger and borderline hatred. It was emotionless save for that, lacking the warmth it possessed just a few minutes ago. It struck Dib, oddly and painfully, registering that Zim's demeanor had changed.
He knew it shouldn't bother him. Zim was the enemy, of course, but his motivations lately had seemed less than truthful. It also didn't help that Dib's seed would father the greatest monstrosity the galaxy had ever seen.
"Well, even if you did…get rid of it…you could just pretend it never happened," Dib offered, hoping to calm the angered Irken. Zim looked offended, simultaneously disappointing and scaring Dib.
"It's not that easy!" he snapped, lashing out again at the taller. Dib winced as the previous injury was again scratched open, blood seeping slowly through the fabric of his shirt. Dib was wounded, both emotionally and physically. He was just trying to be kind.
"But…why?" Dib asked, knowing that pressing him would not result in a good outcome either way. He was right. The atmosphere grew tense and Zim was quiet. Though he didn't lash out again, Dib could tell he was upset and had something on his mind.
Without a word or even a sound, Zim rose from his curled position, straightening himself. He drew in a deep, quiet breath and tugged the hem of his shirt down. He blinked a few times, clearing his ruby-red eyes and casting his gaze low.
Dib noticed his antennae were low too, not quite pressed flat against his head, but almost so. Zim strode quietly into another room, disappearing around the corner. Dib had to jog to keep up with him, enamored with his effortless grace and knowledge of his base.
Even though he knew it was an inappropriate time, Dib couldn't help but notice how Zim's clothes fitted so nicely to his shape. Forgetting momentarily about his deadly claws and strength, he had a truly beautiful form.
Zim walked faster, either sensing Dib's gaze or simply wanting to get wherever he was going faster. Dib didn't know which one it was, and he didn't exactly care to know.
Dib, now able to somewhat look inside Zim's base without running away from the alien or his security, could see panels lining the walls. They were similar to the ones he saw upon entering the lab, but were slowly growing lighter in color. The hue drifted from a dark, polished grey to a kept, pristine white. Dib, the tech nerd he was, couldn't help but enjoy the awe he felt from such advanced technology.
He stopped for a moment, again touching the cool metal that wasn't metal. Zim stopped too, but didn't motion for him to move again. It was almost as if he was allowing Dib to explore.
Dib pressed his hand against it, intrigued by its impossibly smooth texture. He could almost melt into it, it was so smooth and flawless. He pressed his other hand to it, feeling his own warmth seep into the material.
Zim snatched his right hand in an instant, his grip tight and severe. Dib yelped from the sudden soreness that emanated from the bone and was sure that Zim's fingertips would leave a bruise. Tiny pinpricks of blood smeared across his skin, surely a result of those horrible nails.
"Stop touching. Your meat hands are dirty, Dib-thing," Zim mentioned offhandedly, meaning what he said but with a softer tone, at least. The alien did have a point, Dib thought to himself, looking at the fingerprints left on the glass.
Zim turned again, this time into a room. The room was white like the walls. Dib followed Zim, reluctantly, anxious to discover the purpose of the room and disappointed to be pulled from the workings of the lab.
The alien pushed Dib to sit in a chair, which instantly molded to accommodate his legs and hips.
"Incredible," Dib thought.
Zim turned his attention to one of the wall panels, seemingly looking through them for something specific. They all looked the same to Dib and he didn't understand exactly what he was doing.
Dib spied a look at Zim's backside, surely still bruised and sore from the previous onslaught. Though Dib knew it wasn't entirely consensual, his nether regions stirred with the memory. When he looked up again, one of the panels was alive and illuminated.
Dib cursed himself, vowing to figure out how the technology worked and if he, like Zim, would know how to use them. Or, if he would even be able to.
Zim gestured for Dib to rise and approach.
"Here, Dib-thing," he said, turning around to make eye contact with the human and invite him into his space.
Dib wasn't able to make sense of the text and symbols appearing rapidly on the screen, despite his years of attempting to learn Irken from what he intercepted sporadically. It was just too difficult a language to figure out without proper instruction.
"Um, what does it say, exactly?" he whispered, cautiously as to not startle or anger Zim again.
"Do not worry. Zim will teach you eventually."
Dib perked up at the promise, suddenly much more interested in the unreadable screen and in Zim.
"Really?" he asked, seeing if the alien was simply manipulating him, as usual, or actually had intent to follow through with his words.
"Perhaps."
Dib said nothing else, a simple maybe being all he was looking for. He watched as Zim flicked through a few screens of information and pictures, quickly processing it and making the next decision. He had since turned his back to the screen again.
He reached around gently and laid his fingers into the dip between his PAK and his skin. Dib was curious and reached out to touch it. He had never touched Zim's PAK.
Zim froze.
"Do not touch."
Dib pulled his hand back quickly, regretting his impulsive decision. He was also, understandably, happy that he evaded another painful scratch.
Dib watched in horror and fascination as the PAK became a separate entity from Zim's body. The two holes cut into Zim's spine were perfectly rounded.
The panel opened to reveal a small shelf, upon which Zim placed his PAK.
Dib couldn't stop staring at the two round holes.
"Project the most recent scan," Zim started, before glancing back at Dib, who was still staring in wonder at the gruesome display. He held eye contact with Dib for a few moments, his cheeks heating and flushing blue.
The panel now displayed what Dib assumed was the inside of Zim's body. He remembered the x-ray goggles he ordered all those years ago, and Zim looked basically the same. That is, except for the sickeningly copious amount of human organs.
"This is the…the thing."
Dib looks at the small dot on the screen. It doesn't look like much. It couldn't grow to hurt Zim that much, could it?
"List possible complications."
Uh oh, Dib thought. This is what Zim must have been concerned about for so long. The familiar mechanical voice read off an endless list, some in Irken and some in English. Dib surmised the latter was included for his viewing and listening pleasure (not).
"Improper dental development. Improper bone alignment. Improper muscular structure…"
The list went on and on, until the end when the worst of all was revealed.
"Possibility of improper exiting procedures."
Zim's face paled as it had before. A single shiver went down his spine, violent enough for Dib to see and worsened by the puncture wounds in his back.
"This…this is what Zim worries about. It will…it will survive at any cost. Removing it will be difficult, as smeets attach strongly to their carriers. This one is…especially enduring. Its removal will risk Zim's life."