Zim stifled his laughter at the Dib's pathetic state of emotional well-being while they went to the office. First, he's focused, next, in desperate need, and then, he's beside himself with anger! This little experiment was proving quite intriguing to the alien, realizing how easy it was to manipulate a human's feelings.
Just through one simple touch! He giggled at the thought, unable to quiet himself.
Dib threw a glare over his shoulder but didn't dare close the distance between them and demand a reason for Zim's amusement. He knew that his foe was planning something; he just knew it! So, Dib refused to have any contact with the alien until he could make a plan to counteract Zim's plan.
If that makes any sense, Dib thought with a sigh, rubbing his temples.
"Heh…hehhehheh…Ha, he, ha! Ha, ha, HAHAHA! MWAHAHAHA! BWAHAHAHA!" Zim's quiet giggles soon grew into maniacal bits of laughter. Dib knew that laugh from years of battles, he knew what that laugh meant; it meant Zim had a huge plan.
He laughed that very same laugh in skool before Robo-Dib infiltrated his home, after he had turned Dib into a blob of walking bologna, when he was planning on bringing the massive to Earth; and, worst in Dib's books, just before he attempted to empty him into a wormhole in the room with a moose.
Dib felt his step quicken with the site of the blue door of the office; whatever my fate is in there is better than what it is out here. With that thought in mind, he glided into the room, followed by a calmed but chuckling Zim. The scythe haired boy feared if they sat side by side but, while he sat on one side of the room, Zim sat on the other, looking at the clock with a slight intensity Dib couldn't place.
Dib could say he felt relief that the alien wasn't near him and, soon after they arrived, the principal walked into the room, an eeriness following him like a fog; many things confused Dib about Hi Skool. One of those things was the principal; he couldn't have been in his mid-twenties, unusually young for a principal, his coal black eyes flicked from side to side, almost in a paranoid manner, and the hair that matched his eyes was unkempt.
He didn't question the screams of pure agony that emanated from this room whenever he passed during lunch; he grew up with that experience in middle school when he passed Ms. Bitters room at recess.
"So, Zim, Dib," he asked with a scratchy voice, occupying himself with flicking the bobble head on reception desk. "I haven't heard from you two in about a month; where could it have gone wrong?" He drawled the last question out in a honey-coated tone, though there was no smile on his grey face. Dib glared at Zim from where he sat, slightly shocked that it wasn't returned; Zim was looking at the bobble head that the long, ghostly fingers were flicking.
"Uh," Dib cleared his throat, "Dr. Killman assigned us together for a project, even though everyone knows we don't get along." The principal merely nodded, almost uninterested in this common knowledge.
"So," Dib continued, "I can only think that there was some… mistake, or something, because we're never paired together; we fight all the time." With a sigh, the principal slid down and leant his back against the desk behind him; it was an odd sight, for someone of his profession to be sitting in such a casual manner, knees huddled to his chest.
"Look you two, this is the ultimatum in place at the moment; you two can survive this one project together and we can change your schedules afterward so that none of your classes are together or lunch, if you want. But," a dangerous glint entered the soul black eyes, "if you two can't get along, it would be easier just to get rid of one of you." Both Zim and Dib stared at him in fear until he cackled with estranged laughter.
"Of course, you two have to realize this is just preparing you for the crueler world after your four years here; sometimes you don't get a choice in life." The black eyes looked up at the ceiling in thought, finger tapping his chin. "Think of this like getting paired with a horrible person for a job prospect; the choices there are do it grudgingly to get it over with or get fired. Think of this as the situation for your 'Substance Abuse' project."
The two teens glanced at each other for a moment, trying to judge the others reaction to this problem. The principal's skinny frame stood, one arm propping his elbow as his chin rested in his palm. "Well? Are you going to work together or are you going to call it a deadlock?"
"We'll work together," Zim said offhandedly, like he was accepting a particularly easy challenge. Dib sighed and nodded, not happy but not wanting to 'be fired' as the principal put metaphorically.
"Good!" the principal announced with a maniacal grin. "I expect a good project from you two; you both have high grades in chemistry, no doubt you picked it up from your family Dib, and Zim seems to have a natural talent for it." With boosted egos, they stepped out of the office, Dib turning and poking his head in just for a moment to say, "Thanks, Mr… uh-,"
"Mr. C, Dib. That'll do," the dark haired principal – Mr. C – informed with the tone of dismissal; quickly, Dib ducked back out, facing the alien he was partnered with for the remainder of the project. Zim looked down the hall thoughtfully, holding the research papers.
"So, class is most likely going to be over within the next ten minutes; are we going to be working at your house or my base after skool?" the alien questioned, examining the door behind Dib. The teen shrugged.
"My sister won't bother us tonight so, I guess we can work at my house," he answered, his tone restrained. With a nod, Zim strolled away from a dumbfounded Dib; oh, now he's acting like I barely exist, he observed. Well, this is better than his other moods.
The rest of the skool day passed quickly, Dib occupying his mind with the project; for some reason, he felt a stronger determination to do his best on this project. The praise he received from Mr. C just seemed to light a fire inside him and now he wanted to live up to the principal's expectations; he felt that, if he didn't put his all into the project, he'd disappointed the eccentric older man.
It was almost like… Dib was looking at him like a father figure.
Wow, I'm pathetic, he thought. A few words of praise and I'm like a lost puppy finding a new master… Did I seriously just use that kind of metaphor? He shook his head, waiting for the final bell to ring… and dreading it. For, as soon as that long hand hit the twelve, he'd be walking to his house with the most unpredictable being on the planet.
RRIIIIIIINNNNGGG! Unfortunately, the inevitable couldn't be delayed forever. With a heavy sigh, Dib walked away from his last class and went to fetch his bag from his locker. At least they made our lockers in separate hallways, Dib thought with content.
"So, Dib, how long do you plan on taking?" The teen jumped, un-expecting of the alien standing near him. Holding a hand over his pounding heart, he threw a glare in Zim's direction before hoisting his backpack from the locker, slamming it shut.
"Happy now?" he asked sarcastically. The alien turned with an uncaring shrug, leading the way out of the skool and down the road to Dib's house. He was surprised that Zim was keeping this silent/ignoring act against him for so long but he was starting to get a little irritated by it's hidden meaning; what was Zim's plan? He wondered with urgency.
They arrived at his house, Zim still behaving passively toward Dib. They entered and sat around the coffee table on the floor, research papers spread out on the glass surface. They spent two hours doing that; Dib relaxed after the first half hour but realized that they weren't talking very much at all, just sharing an idea for approval. They were talking much less than it would take for them to complete the project on time.
"Zim, should we add this or do you think it's just repeating the main points?" he asked, trying to encourage more talking. Grey eyes flickered to the paper for a second before glancing back down at the sheet he wrote on, revising.
"I do not believe we need that," he answered curtly. Dib's eyes widened before a suspicious glare entered his gaze.
"Alright, Space boy, you've been giving me the silent treatment since the library thing; it's not like I care but we actually have to talk to get this project complete within the next few days," Dib sighed. "You can ignore me all you want after this project."
"I understand," he responded, concentrating on the notes he was writing. Suddenly, Dib had the urge to make Zim face him, look him in the eye; he always paid attention to me before so this deprive of it is kind of… I want to think 'unbearable' but that doesn't sound right.
Pretending to work, Dib thought about that sudden, inexplicable urge; it's probably just because he's the only person who really pays attention to me. I'll get over it; my sister and dad ignore me and it doesn't bother me. And they're my family! I can deal with this… Unfortunately, the longer they stayed silent, neither one of them wanting to speak, – Zim because of his plan and Dib because of his stubborn self determination – the more and more they craved to hear a word from the other.
I don't think I've gone this long without hearing the Dib's voice since I arrived on earth, Zim figured. Well, in his presence, anyways.
I don't know why I need to hear his voice so badly, Dib wondered with slight panic. What's wrong with me?
I don't know if this plan is working in my favour or not, Zim thought. The more I try to infatuate the Dib then act indifferent, the more my amazing mind betrays me. CURSE YOU, ZIM'S MIND!
It's around seven; he hasn't said anything for three hours! Dib mentally growled. I always thought he had the biggest blabbermouth in skool. If he had always been this quiet, it would've saved me a lot of headaches.
Gaz, who played video games in her room, noticed the absence of noise. She stuck her head outside her door.
"Dib! Are you still alive down there?" she called down, hoping there wouldn't be an answer.
Dammit Gaz! You've made me lose! Dib thought angrily.
"What's wrong, Gaz?" he called back up. Zim smiled when Dib turned to yell at his sister; I win.
"Everything; you weren't talking my ear off and the TV isn't on!" she responded, tone slightly more annoyed, followed by the slamming of her bedroom door. Dib let out a sigh and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"So, it seems that we will start documenting the information on the computer tomorrow?" Zim asked, unable to hide the smugness in his voice at the victory.
"Whatever," Dib responded uncaringly, flipping the TV on to Mysterious Mysteries. Zim scowled in distaste.
"You actually still watch that show?" he implied as he collected the revised research. Even though Dib was miffed at both losing and the comment, he would be lying if he said he wanted the alien to shut up.
"Yeah; they don't make any new shows but the reruns of the older shows are actually good. They still play the show about you, too." Zim showed little interest but felt inclined to ask… no, Gir would destroy the base if he didn't get home soon… but still…
"Can I watch with you?" he asked. Dib's eyes widened visibly, immediately searching the stone grey eyes for any suspicion. The blank eyes stared back for a moment before annoyance clouded them.
"Are you going to answer the amazing Zim or not!" he demanded, his voice rising. Dib resisted a groan; if they fought again…
"Alright, alright," he allowed, patting a spot on the other side of the couch. Yeah right Dib, Zim thought with resistance. Of course, Zim sat closer to Dib than Dib had expected him to, their bodies close enough to touch but they weren't, Zim reclining into the seat and propping his irken militia boots onto the edge of the table.
Dib thought twice about telling him not too, the worry of a fight breaking out much greater than a little dirt on the coffee table. He drew his thoughts away from their close proximity to the MM show on; oh, chickenfoot. This one barely came on anymore because of Dib's little expedition when he was twelve but the other myths were considerably interesting.
Zim wasn't watching the show but observed Dib's reactions to the show; interest was etched into his features, along with disbelief. The alien debated if he should attempt a new phase in his plan but, settled with just moving closer to the human, so their sides were touching. Dib didn't even seem to notice.
I'm not an irken invader, he thought. That's what the Tallest said; but how could they say that to the amazing Zim? I worshipped the ground the walked on and then they just didn't care. HOW DARE THEM! But, defective? How can I, ZIM, being defective? It's unfathomable!
Banished… The word echoed in the alien's mind. He almost felt like something had dropped right into the pit of his squiddilyspooch after being told the news that, apparently, all of Irk, and then some, already knew. Zim felt himself lean against Dib slowly, thinking; Dib glanced at him for just a moment but, seeing as he wasn't groping or massaging something he wasn't supposed to, Dib let it pass, turning his attention back to the TV.
The alien could say he was shocked that Dib hadn't pushed him away but, seeing as this wasn't like the other times, it may have been acceptable. Zim knew now, if he hadn't before, what Dib was now.
Despite their bitter rivalry and initial plans to kill the other before they could destroy the others plans, one of the links was broken; Zim no longer intended on taking over Earth, thus Dib would lose his purpose, and the two would crumble from their peaceful chain of bitter hate. But, what was under the hate and loathing?
Dib was inexplicably the most annoying creature Zim had ever known, but also the most fascinating, the most unpredictable. Unlike so many other aliens, the inferior human race had given him a formidable rival in the battle over Earth. But, when the war ends, what do the two sides do?
Zim knew their were two options; he could continue a rivalry with Dib, pretend everything was right with his world once more, until they died. Or, the option he chose was the peace treaty; he could promise Dib earth's safety for friendship. Or more, his mind slipped in naughtily.
It was already decided, though. He already knew that Dib belonged to him; he figured that happened since their first battle, except Dib had chosen him that time for hate. Now, it was opposite in many ways.
Zim owns you Dib, he thought with possession while his head leaned against the humans arm.
Zim is your drug.
...
...
...And, although I'm not sure yet, you are the Zim's drug.
~!~!~!~!~
Sorry it was a little longer to update.
Our computer ran down and I typed this up at my dad's. I'm so tired. No sleep… for five days… I think I've had around thirteen cups of coffee per day? Perhaps more?
If this chapter is less quality than the others, tell me through reviews and I'll redo it after an appropriate amount of sleep.
From the sleep-deprived genius, Lexi. -_-zzz
PS. Do you know who the principal is? Huh? Add a little more gore and you should be able to figure it out... Skinny, dark hair, laughs with maniacal laughter! This is an easy one! Screams of agony?
You know, describing there for a second, I pictured L from Death Note... but no, it aint him.
Theoretical cookies bought with theoretical money for you if you know! ^-^
PSS. Speaking of Death Note, if you read my bros Ashes of Hate fic, it won't be updated for a while since I hogged this computer and we're going home right after I post this chapter. ~!~!~ He not gonna update~!~!~
Little Update: 11:02pm, Saturday in July, computer up and running, for now: I know Zim's boots aren't militia but I like dat word better than military. Sounds cooler, doesn't it? Sorry for that confusion though.
SHIT! SHIT SHIT SHIT! I just realized an entire word confusion! Circumcised is not what Dib was thinking about before! He was thinking of castration! Crap! I hate that I can't remember those stupid little word mix-ups! They're so close too; circumsision is, apparently, just cutting off the foreskin of the you-know-what (youch.) but castration is the entire getter riddering of the you-know-what (double youch.).
Freak out time! *Runs around, pulling hair out*
Well, at least I got that out there anyways.