A/N: Warning! After this chapter, my updates will be slower, because I've started school again *sigh*. Please be patient, k? I promise I won't be abandoning this story anytime soon! :)
Ch.9: Personal Business
A few blocks later, and Zim's base came into sight. Zim picked up his pace, practically dragging Dib along behind him. Up the sidewalk, through the gap in the gate, all the way up to the purple front door. The lawn gnomes didn't even spare Dib a glance.
When they got inside, they slammed the door shut behind them, and leaned up against it shakily, together.
"Mastah! Big-head boy!" squeed a familiar voice.
Dib lifted his head, using a neck that somehow felt both boneless and full of iron. "GIR...?"
The little SIR unit tottered rather drunkenly into the room from the kitchen, no disguise on. He looked a bit scratched in some places, and dirty, but otherwise none the worse for wear.
"But I thought...?" The boy vividly remembered seeing a green GIR-like blur hitting Scattermoon in the park, to give him enough time to get away with Zim...
GIR remembered, too. "Scary lady was mad!" the little robot informed him cheerfully. "She tore mah head off! Like dis!" He grabbed both sides of his head and pulled it off. Snakelike metal circuits instantly came up out of the little robot's sparking neck, to grab the bottom of the head and pull it firmly back down on his shoulders.
Cyan eyes lit up, blinking confusedly for a minute. "Daww, Big-head boy's hand is brokin!" the little robot chirped, pointing at Dib's right hand.
Numbly, Dib looked at it. GIR was right; a deep gash, probably from him smashing the beaker on the keypad, marred the skin of his palm, welling blood as he unclenched it. He still didn't feel pain though, even though it looked like it should hurt...He supposed he should feel lucky that it was just the glass that had got him and not the acid...
He nearly jumped out of his skin when Zim abruptly grabbed the hand and pulled it toward himself for inspection. He'd completely forgotten that the Irken was there, standing right beside him...
If Zim had had a hyuuman nose, it would have wrinkled in disgust at the icky red fluid currently leaking out of the cut. "GIR! Bring me the medkit!"
GIR snapped off a salute, turning red for a brief second before tottering off in search of the requested object. Zim turned smartly on his heel and made for the couch, pulling the Dib along with him. Dib stumbled along behind, too numb still to protest.
They sat, Zim still holding Dib's hand. He held it up closer to his face, poking curiously at the bright red fluid with a gloved finger. He made a face. "Dis-gusting hyuuman...stuff," he hissed, but still didn't let go of Dib's hand.
Dib laughed at that, but it was short and hollow. "It's called blood, Zim."
Zim snorted, waving a hand at him dismissively. GIR tottered back into the room then, carrying a white box with a strange pink Irken symbol on it. Zim snatched it from the little robot, betraying his previously well-hidden disquiet. Once upon a time, he would have liked seeing the red fluid leaking from the human, but not now. Not now, for reasons the stubborn alien wouldn't let himself recognize, nor even think about. Weak, hyuuman-y reasons...
Laying the hand carefully, palm up, on his leg, Zim opened the kit and set to work, studiously ignoring the owner of the hand-which was currently sitting on his thigh, invading the superior Invader's personal space...
Dib didn't feel much pain from the wound-until Zim started messing with it, with what looked like a cotton swab dipped in a clear liquid from a purple bottle. Then it stung like all hell.
"Ow!" the hyuuman yelped, instinctively attempting to yank his hand back, away from the stinging assault.
The alien tightened his grip in response, pulling the hand back into his lap. "Stay still, Dib-wiggle!" he growled.
"It hurts! Are you trying to dissect it or something?"
Ruby eyes flickered up at him for the first time since they had come in. "Do not tempt the almighty Zim, Dib-smell."
Dib's heart jumped, but there was no real bite to the grumbled words. In fact, it was the closest thing to teasing he had ever heard out of the Irken, past or present.
Teasing, apparently, was a dangerous word for Dib, because it reminded him, somehow, of what had happened in his room, right before everything went to hell...and what else could have happened...Dib's mind backpedalled quickly from those dangerous and disturbing thoughts, heat rushing to his face in a blush.
"Dib-thing," Zim spoke up after a short, slightly awkward pause. Dib looked at him automatically, though the blush hadn't completely faded from his face. Was it just his imagination, or did Zim have the slightest tinge of blue around his cheeks, too? "Yeah, space boy?"
"Zim is curious..." the alien paused, not speaking again until he finished tying off the white gauze from the kit on the back of his hand. "What was the Dib-stink working on with his inferior Earth technology, before...?"
That was all Dib needed. All the numbness and embarassment vanished in that instant, his mind clicking back into focus. He actually smiled. "Zim, I need your computer."
The alien stared at him incredulously. "Dib-stink, use ZIM'S computer?"
"It's important! You do want to help me get rid of Scattermoon so you can go back to your merry attempts to conquer Earth, right?"
Little did the hyuuman know, Zim's 'merry' attempt (singular, because he was ZIM, and ZIM would need only one attempt this time.) was still rolling right along nicely. But still...Zim's manual computer access was nestled deep inside the heart of the base; the hyuman would see everything...
The hand on his lap flipped over, catching Zim's gloved fingers. "Please, Zim. You can even stand and watch, if you want."
That was a huge concession, they both knew; Dib's plans would be laid bare to the alien. And not only that, but the Dib absolutely hated people watching him work, especially small obnoxious green aliens.
"Fine," said alien finally growled. He poked the end of Dib's nose with a clawed finger. "But Zim will be watching youuuu-"
Dib jumped up happily, interrupting the alien. "Good! GIR, will you show me to the computer...?"
The little robot looked to his master for confirmation. When the annoyed alien gestured his consent, he squeed. "YAY! C'mon, Dibbeh!" The little SIR unit grabbed the boy's uninjured hand and dragged him into the kitchen. Zim followed primly behind.
Dib watched, fascinated, as GIR tapped something on the left side of the fridge. The 'fridge' then opened, to reveal a white square elevator large enough to accomodate Dib's much taller form. But Dib wasn't allowed to gape for long; the second its doors opened, GIR happily dragged him inside, chattering on about nonsense.
Just before the doors slid shut again, Dib caught sight of Zim, smirking and waving at him. "Wha...?"
"We go down!" GIR squeed. Then there was an omnious click, and the elevator plummeted, in complete freefall. Dib cried out, squeezing his eyes shut-
Less than five minutes into the hellish ride, the elevator slowed, and gently stopped, the doors opening again with a small ding and a pressurized hiss.
GIR squealed, skipping crazily into the giant, dimly lit room beyond. Dib groaned, following shakily after. "Fuck..."
Zim, of course, was already in the room, standing next to the monsterous hulk that was the computer terminal and the equally large chair-like thing in front of it. He smirked as Dib approached on unsteady legs, vindictive nature satisfied by the boy's discomfort.
Dib glared back at him. "You could have had the decency to warn me."
Zim didn't bother to answer, just smirked wider and gestured to the 'chair'. Dib sat in it gingerly, wary of more tricks, but there weren't any. The chair, though kind of ridged with a hole in the back (for a PAK to rest comfortably) was easily the most comfortable piece of furniture he'd ever sat on in his life.
He quickly forgot that though as he viewed the massive keyboard in front of him. "Whoa."
"Computer!" Zim growled. "Authorize access for the Dib-human."
"All right," grumbled the computer from somewhere above. Dib froze as a red light, similar to a barcode scanner but much larger, swept down his body, from the top of his head to the soles of his boots.
"Access granted," the computer muttered. The terminal in front of Dib clicked to life, the Irken characters automatically transforming themselves into English, both on the keyboard and on the screen itself.
Dib's inner tech geek went nuts over that, but Dib surpressed the urge to squeal, refocusing instead on the task at hand as he set his fingers to the keys.
Zim watched the long fingers fly over the keyboard expertly, honestly curious now in spite of himself. "What exactly are you doing, Dib-stink?"
Dib actually cracked a smile, an uncharacteristically wicked one that did weird but not entirely unpleasant things to Zim's spooch. "I'm making a virus. A computer virus. See, I tried to do this to your systems when I was a kid, but it never worked 'cause your computer is semi-sentient. It was able to find it and squish it, well, like a bug."
"Hey, I resent that," the computer groused.
"Shut up," the alien snapped. "Continue, Dib-stink."
Dib rambled on, having barely heard the exchange. "It'll work this time, though, because Scattermoon uses a computer with human-made technology. And I have a supercomputer to make it with."
"Pitful hyuuman technology," Zim purred, leaning against the side of the chair, near Dib's shoulder. "What will this 'virus' do? Make the Scattermoon-thing's head EXPLODE?"
"For the moment, it won't do anything."
Zim gave the back of the boy's head an incredulous look. "Zim fails to see the Dib-inferior's point."
Dib's smirk widened. "You will. Go put on your disguise. I'm going to call up the rest of the Network."
Zim's expression slid from incredulous to dubious, but he reluctantly did as he was told, anyway.
When he came back, Dib was talking to three shadowy figures on the computer's giant screen. "There's another hostile alien on Earth. It's already tried to kill me once. I can prove it."
Small sounds of disbelief came from two of the figures, but the one on the far right of the screen said, "Show us your proof, Agent Mothman."
"Thank you, Agent Darkbooty." Away went Dib's fingers over the keyboard again, like two pale white Earth birds.
"Gentlemen, I give you...Agent Scattermoon, alien!"
Another, larger screen came up...Empty. The screen showed a dark lab, completely deserted. Dib gaped in shock as the others made sounds of disgust.
"Not again...Goodbye, Agent Mothman," growled one, as two screens disappeared. Dib's gaze flickered desperately to the one still remaining. "Agent Darkbooty!" The NASA janitor had believed him about Zim, when the alien had hijacked Mars and tried to squish the Earth with it; sure he could..."You gotta believe me! Scattermoon's an alien! She tried to kill me! She set fire to my house!"
But it was like he was ten years old again, ranting without solid proof about Zim's schemes to take over the Earth. Dib couldn't see Darkbooty's expression, but from his narrowed red eyes, Dib could tell it was full of disgust, too. "Dib," the man's voice was heavy with disappointment. "Agent Mothman. I though you had outgrown this crazy ridiculousness. I guess I was wrong."
"But, Agent Darkbooty-!"
"Goodbye, Agent Mothman." Darkbooty's screen then disappeared, too. Dib's heart sank, down through his stomach and his legs, to leak out into a blood red puddle around his feet and the base of the chair. Earlier's numbness came back full force, enveloping his mind and filling the hole. Detached, Dib watched his uninjured hand reach out and turn off the program. Then he stood up, and quietly walked back towards the elevator.
Zim watched him go, spooch tightening at the familiar slumped shoulders, bowed head and dragging feet. "Dib..." he found himself saying out loud, his own feet unsticking from the floor so he could follow after.
But by the time he caught up, the Dib had already entered the elevator. By the time it came back down and brought Zim back up, the Dib was already slumped on the couch, head in his hands.
As Zim approached quietly, a soft noise, almost like a sob, came out of the huddled boy.
If ever called on it, Zim would swear what happened next was a direct result of all the icky hyuuman chemicals that had been injected into him lately. Because there was no way that the almighty ZIM in his right mind would crawl up onto his own couch and push his head between a smelly human worm-baby's arms, to nuzzle against said worm baby's thin, delicious-smelling chest. No way. And he certainly wouldn't hum, a soft, almost inaudible note used to calm disobedient smeets, just to comfort him. Oh no...
The Dib's breathing hitched once, then evened a little, arms wrapping wordlessly around the smaller alien's body, holding him close. Zim made a face at the mild sting of a damp cheek pressing against his head, but didn't pull away. He nuzzled closer to the scent, his hands grabbing fistfuls of the blue shirt beneath his head as his own humming and the warmth and smell of the Dib slowly lulled him to sleep...
A/N: Dawww! Chapter 9, the most squee-worthy chapter yet, IMHO. They might be mildly ooc, I think. But oh well *shrug*. Usual disclaimer: characters belong to Jhonen Vasquez, not meh.