Chapter Five

A sedate Zim lay, curled up, in his large memory foam dog bed. Why any human was so willing to give such luxuries to a lower life form mystified the alien but he was none-the-less grateful; the foolish love and desire to pamper that humans showered over their companion animals meant he'd been able to purchase his new sleeping quarters at an amazingly low price.
'Thank Irk Earth creatures need extended periods of rest.'
Snuggling up to the mauve pillows, Zim attempted to settle himself, getting as comfortable as he could manage. His body had already begun to alter itself to suit the cycle and his environment, mass producing the chemicals that would turn his brain to mush, all inhibitions to be quickly be forgotten and all control thrown to the wind. Soon he would transform into nothing more than a wild beast, seeking out one thing as desperately as if his life depended on it.

A groan of frustration left the back of Zim's throat. He didn't want this, he wanted anything but this. To mutate into a creature of primal instinct was the lowest an Irken could sink, to lower ones self, to become submissive and… tame… towards another. It was the stuff of nightmares.
His time trapped on the filthy dirt ball of a planet hadn't helped his predicament either; it had actually worsened his condition. The Irken body was incredibly resilient, it was built to adjust and survive, even in the strangest of ways.

Tak and Skoodge, those lucky bastards.
They remained mostly unchanged; they hadn't had the lengthy interactions with the stinkin' meat sacks! They didn't have to endure watching their bodies 'adapt' to
blend in. No, they stayed in the base, safe from any chance of change, blissfully unaware of what their great Zim was having to endure to maintain their lifestyle.
Hmph!

Burying his face deeper into his pile of plush, he attempted to drain out the thoughts in his head. The sooner he fell asleep, the sooner the cycle would begin, and the sooner the Blorch of this situation would come to an end.

But it was not meant to be.

No sooner had Zim slammed his features into the cushions, his lekku had picked up the rustle of fabric from somewhere close by. But he just didn't have the concentration to care. With the buzzing of his insides, the burning heat pooling in his organs and the tingling of his flesh preparing his poor form for an act Zim refused to commit, he was more than drained of any intelligent thought telling him to worry.
Passing it off as some bird carrying stolen items of human clothing, lekku flattened against skin once more and relaxed. If he got up now, there'd be no chance to rest soundly.

But the rustling continued.
'It's just more birds, damn those feathery fliers.'
Vibrations began to run through the floor in a steady pattern, growing more intense with each beat, battering against tired lekku.
'Boars and stags must be ramming the tree again, stupid beasts.'
New smells floated through the air, little whispers said under heavy breaths could be heard and …
Wait, whispers?
Birds don't whisper and, no matter what stupid humans say, the wind does not whisper either.
With a sudden burst of bright light shinning down from the direction of the entrance, he was finally disturbed enough to provoke movement.
A half-lidded Zim raised his head towards the doorway, drained eyes squinting at the new brightness of his surroundings; he may not be in the right mind to fully understand his situation but his natural defensive instinct forced him to find out what type of visitor had entered his den.

It was a tall, slightly muscular figure of Irkenoid build, always a positive when broken down to the basics. Dressed in dark clothing, not uncommon for elites, things were looking up! Small eyes? Well, it was odd for an irken but not unheard of. Only one lengthy lekku in the front centre of the head… with three bends!? Now that was strange!

The need to sit up and confront the unusual intruder finally kicked in, and a reluctant Zim began to move. Stretching out his limbs, he arched his lower back upwards with his chest almost pressing into the soft fabric beneath. Palms firmly planted into the bedding in front, clawed fingers reached outward to show their full length before snapping back to gently knead the fuzzy material, a habit picked up within his first three disastrous cycles on Earth.

A quiet yawn signalled the end of the Irken's waking routine and the little figure turned to face the new presence.
He was beyond using strings of words to communicate in his current state. He hadn't been able to use coherent sentences since the second hour of his trip but at least his mind had been focused for long enough to fill the feeder and tighten the collar. Now all that remained was an occasional word and his thoughts, and even they would take a while to start up after the short rest. How was he to show that he has no threat without letting the other on to his condition?
Well, work with what you've got and all that, Zim guessed.

Dib was far past stunned. He was way beyond shocked. He was astounded. Frozen in place, he continued to stare at the alien in front of him, eyes bulging and mouth agape.
It was Irken.
It was an actual living Irken!
Like, right there, not even moving away or attacking him or anything. It was just looking at him with those deep blood red disks of eyes…

'Pull yourself together, Dib! Don't fuck this up for us; get your ass in gear!'

Shaking himself mentally, Dib let his paranormal brain take control of the situation. Irkens, as he knew from experience, were aggressive by nature and nearly impossible catch when they don't want to be.
'It's not alarmed yet, just move slowly, be confident, and, for the love of all things strange, don't make and sudden noises!'

Shifting his weight off one foot to the other, Dib cautiously began to walk towards the bed at a painfully slow pace, faking complete confidence while taking mental notes as he observed.

It's short.
Must be about, hmm, five foot seven… max?
Isn't that really tall, like, for the race though?
If I remember correctly, aren't the leaders just taller than everyone else too?
Does that mean it's a high rank or something?
Never mind, what else?
It's thin, are those… bones?
So, it's weak?
Nah, don't assume, just in case.
But... it hasn't come at me yet…
Maybe it's injured? Or brain damaged?
Do Irkens even have a brain? Or does that thing on their backs, whatsitcalled?
The 'pack', does that do all the thinkin' for them?
It doesn't look angry though, in fact it doesn't even look the least bit aggressive.
Its face looks flushed though, maybe it's the heat?
Zim could never stand summer, but he couldn't stand the cold either.
The hell-? Is that a collar… and chains!? Why on Earth would an Irken need to be chained to the freaking walls!?
So, it is dangerous?
Well, I've searched for ages. I can't just back away now, might as well speak to it. It knows more than I do, maybe it even knows what happened to Zim.

Zim watched the stranger close the distance between them slowly, really slowly.

Clearly, he didn't want to fight either. Good, he was in no position for confrontation with the being-tied up to the walls and his lack of sufficient motor skills and all that. Perhaps he's lost? Another unknowingly damned Pak sent to Earth to…
Well, doesn't matter now, does it? Zim needs to keep away from everyone, there was no telling what his body might do if someone got too close for too long.
In fact, he could tell exactly what it wanted to do. That was the problem…
'Might as well try to help him. The sooner he leaves, the better.'

"Uh, hello there! I don't mean you harm. Could you please tell me your name?"
'Is that… English he's speaking? Why on Irk would he speak English of all languages?'
"Excuse me; can you hear what I'm saying?"
'Shit, what should I do? If I don't respond he might guess I'm…'

Unable to think of a better solution: Zim chirped.

What else could he have done!? Words were impossible for now. A growl, although it would have been Zim's preferred choice, would be perceived as a challenge and he'd rather die than purr. Zim knew there was no chance in Blorch he'd come out unscathed of any scuffle. It was better to make cheerful sounds than end up a pile of goo.

The trill surprised Dib. He hadn't been aware Irkens could even make such a delightfully happy noise; he certainly hadn't heard Zim, Tak or Skoodge make anything that even came close.
Well, at least there was no way it thought of him as a threat now, Dib was sure. What creature meowed to scare away predators?

Creeping closer, Dib sat himself down on the floor two feet from his new 'companion'. Holding out his hand, he decided it was only polite, as a self-appointed ambassador of the Earth, to introduce himself.
"Hello, I'm Dib. I welcome you to Earth, that's this planet by the way!"

Antennae shot up the second Dib's name left his mouth. Ruby eyes snapped open to an improbable size as the body leaned back in shock.

'Dib? '
'As in The Dib!? This was him!?'
'No, his lekku must have been mistaken. There was no way, not a chance!'
'But the lekku did look a lot like…'
'And the eyes were the same as…'
No! It couldn't be. Dib had left as a small, stupid, filthy worm-baby nine rotations ago. Sure, the pig-smellies were known to transform early on in life but for that to morph into this? And now, of all the situations he could have been in when they finally met, he had to be this? In what kind of GIR's sick dramas did that happen!?'

Dib saw the reaction his name had caused in the alien. Did it know him? Was he made famous in space? Had Zim had returned to his homeland, spreading stories of their battles across the universe? Whatever it was, his new foreign friend seemed quite taken aback. Better clarify things before it got out of hand, he thought.

"Pardon me, but- do you know who I am?" Dib calmly inquired, the last thing he wished to do is freak it out further but he needed to know.

Widened ruby orbs stared back at him, shaking as if they were flicking between his own eyes, searching for… something.

"Uh. Hello? Can you start, like, um, speaking or something? I won't hurt you, I just want to know."

Shoulders shrugged in front of Dib, the chest heaved as if letting out a silent sigh, eyes lowered and fell closed. Slowly, the Irken opened its mouth.