It had been four days since he had been captured (going by the number of times he slept), and Dib swore that he was close to losing his mind here.
He thought things would be simple, at first. Avoid falling asleep (to keep Zim from…touching him, the mere thought making him shiver) and look for a way to escape.
But no. Now, Zim was insistent on sharing meals with him. Occasionally, he would wander past and try to strike up a casual conversation (which Dib kept ignoring). Worst of all, no matter how much he fought sleep, he always seemed to doze off at (presumably) the end of the day.
Well…no, that wasn't quite the worst part, but it was close.
The actual worst part was that, though Dib avoided the nest of blankets and pillows in his cell like the plague…he always woke up tucked into it. Zim was always gone by the time he was up—he had learned his lesson the morning after he sedated Dib. But who else could it have been that moved him?
It just made him feel so…paranoid. He knew one thing Zim did when he was dead to the world, but…what else was he doing to him?
The thought made him shudder.
"Oh, are you cold?" Zim said, walking around the corner with a tray in his hands. "Well, that's what happens when you ignore perfectly good blankets."
"Like I'd ever trust anything that came from you," Dib sneered, eyeing the tray. Seemed like a normal breakfast—eggs and toast, with orange juice. Except that most breakfasts didn't have a mixture of eggs that were scrambled and hardboiled, with just a single (and slightly burnt) sunny-side-up one, as far as he knew.
Zim handed the tray to some robotic arms, and it was soon placed in Dib's lap. "I think your paranoia is getting to you," he said. "They're regular blankets. Superior to most others, but they're not going to bite you."
"It's not paranoia if you're right." He poked at his eggs a few times. He wasn't sure how it would help determine if it was safe, but he felt that it sent a message…one that he didn't trust Zim.
After nudging the toast a little, he tore open the sunny-side-up egg and dipped a corner of the bread into the runny yolk inside. Zim made an intrigued sound, and Dib's head whipped over to him. The Irken had a few slices of toast sitting on a tray in front of him, though he was ignoring them to instead lean forward and watch what Dib was doing.
The gaze on him made him feel awkward, so Dib dropped the toast and instead took a bite out of the scrambled eggs.
"Mm." Zim leaned back into a normal sitting position…though Dib saw him scoot a little closer. It was only a few inches, not worth glaring at the alien for just yet.
Still, he stretched, using the motion to move away from the cell's wall.
He kept eating the scrambled eggs, and eventually picked up the toast again. Zim was still watching in curiosity, but he wasn't making an obvious show of it, so Dib didn't feel as awkward. He dipped it into the yolk again and quickly polished off the toast.
At this point, he had eaten enough that his hesitancy faded. He finished off the rest of the eggs, minus the hardboiled ones, which he nudged to the side before dropping the tray on the floor.
"Why don't you finish your breakfast?" Zim said, halfway through his last piece of toast.
Dib shook his head, finishing off his orange juice. "Don't like the hardboiled ones," he said. "The yolk texture is…" He grimaced a little.
"Hmm. …I could bring you another egg to make up for it."
"No, I'm full," Dib said, dropping the glass onto the tray. "I don't want any more of your food."
"Not even a dessert…from another world?"
A bit tempting, but Dib shook his head. "No. And having a dessert after breakfast is weird, anyway."
"Only by the standards of humans," Zim said, waving off the idea. A robotic arm dropped down and grabbed the tray from Dib's lap, carrying it over to Zim. "I'll see you soon, little human."
Dib glowered, sitting up straighter to show that he was obviously taller than Zim, and not 'little'. But Zim was already walking away, ignoring him. Dib sighed and waited until he was out of sight before slumping back against the wall.
He drummed his fingers on the floor, scanning the area and trying to think of a plan. He was still keeping an eye out for opportunities to escape, but Zim was being surprisingly careful, minimizing any of Dib's chances to get out.
Well…he was a germaphobe, so…maybe if Dib made himself look gross, Zim wouldn't try to touch him? That would at least make this whole situation a bit more manageable.
After mulling over the idea for a bit, he stood and glanced around, specifically at the few security cameras he could see. …there was no way to tell if Zim was watching. Even if he was, Dib would probably just look crazy.
He grimaced and began to jog in circles around the blanket pile, working up a light sweat. He also gave a few of the blankets some kicks, enough that he could see where he had hidden piles of food before Zim had watched him eat.
The waffles still looked ready to eat, if stale, even after sitting for a few days. That was…not normal, he was pretty sure. Made him glad he didn't eat those. He dropped the blankets to hide them again.
In other places, he found the sandwiches. The bread had gone hard, the insides spoiled into a gross muck, and one was starting to grow a spot of mold. The smell made Dib gag…
Which made them perfect to use against Zim, who would probably recoil and keel over at the awful scent.
…but was he really willing to go this far? Sure, he might have once sacrificed his hygiene long enough that Gaz wore a hazmat suit around him, but that wasn't totally intentional! He had just been too busy to take care of himself. The sandwiches looked disgusting, and he was starting to think that maybe just building up some more sweat would be enough to deter Zim…
"HEY!" someone screamed just outside the cage. Dib jumped and fumbled with the sandwich, nearly dropping it when he whirled around. Zim's insane little robot was standing there, staring at him and tapping on the glass.
"Uh, hey there?" Dib said, waving. "…can you open the cage?"
It shook its head. "Mastah says I'm not allowed to. Not after the weasels."
Dib sighed. Of course it couldn't be that easy. Still, it was staring at him, as though waiting for him to do something interesting. He scooted a few inches away.
"Are you gonna eat that?" it asked, pointing at the sandwich.
Dib gagged at the thought. "No, no, I am not."
"Can I haaaave it?" GIR asked, trying to give him puppy-dog eyes.
Dib frowned down at the sandwich. If the crazy robot really wanted this, maybe he could use it to his advantage. He'd seen Zim drop things to keep his robot from doing something particularly insane before, so…
"I'll make a deal with you," Dib said. "I'll give this to you, but you have to do something for me later."
GIR nodded, seeming to understand so far. "At some point, I'll start whistling," Dib said. "That's your signal to be as loud as you can and get Zim to come over to you right away." It wasn't a perfect plan, but he didn't really have a good way to contact the robot. He just hoped the base had good acoustics…
"Okie-dokie!" GIR said with a nod. "I wanna sammich now!"
"You promise you'll be loud and distracting when I signal you?" Dib said, holding the sandwich up and away from GIR. "And that you'll listen very carefully for the signal?"
"I promise!" GIR pressed against the glass, trying futilely to reach for the sandwich. "Just gimme sammich!"
Dib tossed the old sandwich in an arc, up towards the slot Zim used to move trays of food back and forth. GIR whined a little, and robotic arms dropped from the ceiling, grabbed the sandwich, and dropped it right into the robot's arms.
GIR let out a happy squeal, first hugging the sandwich…and then taking a big bite out of it. "Remember the deal," Dib said, his nose wrinkling as GIR actually ate the thing.
"Yes, Dibby!" GIR said, saluting him. "Buh-bye!" It turned and wandered off, taking big bites out of the sandwich as it went.
Dib turned away and gagged. …but as long as this worked, it would be worth it.
Assuming that GIR didn't forget. And that it would actually hear him. And that Dib would have an opportunity use to the deal…
He glanced over at the security cameras. He also had to hope that Zim hadn't just watched the whole thing and knew not to fall for it.
Dib sighed, sitting in the corner again and thumping his head back against the glass. At least he had created a better chance of escaping, if this would actually work. He still needed to wait for a good opportunity, but he felt a little better prepared, now.
In a little bit, he stood and started to jog around his cell a little more, combining his search for an exit with working up a sweat.
By the time Zim came with today's lunch, Dib was sitting in his usual corner, now with a sheen of sweat on his skin. He wasn't dripping with it, exactly, but he hoped it was just enough to make the alien uncomfortable.
Zim tilted his head at him, apparently noticing that something was off. But he passed the tray over as usual, then set a smaller tray of food on his own lap.
Lunch was a slice of cornbread, though this time it was smaller and being served alongside a grilled cheese sandwich. Zim's plate just had cornbread and a few miniature candy bars.
Dib continued his ritual of poking his meal repeatedly before finally eating. Zim had been nibbling on cornbread until then, only speaking up when Dib was a few bites in. "Why do you look…slimy?"
"I'm dying," Din said dryly. "Feeding me nothing but junk food has made me deathly ill. Bleh." He let his tongue roll out, his head falling back and thumping against the wall.
"D-Dib!?" Zim said. The sudden panic in his voice made Dib laugh. He sat back up straight and continued to eat.
Zim was still staring at him, antennae vibrating wildly. "I'm not dying," Dib said. "Well, not yet. It's just sweat, moron."
"Oh." Zim munched on a bit of chocolate. "…that was a mean trick, Dib-thing."
"Yeah, well, I don't really care about being 'nice' to alien kidnappers." Dib took a bite out of his sandwich, letting it crunch loudly in the hopes that it would get on Zim's nerves.
Zim just huffed at him, a tablet popping out of his PAK. He looked back and forth between it and Dib, tapping at the screen. "Why are you covered in sweat, anyway?"
"Maybe because someone tries to crush me with way too many blankets and makes me overheat." Dib stuck his tongue out at him, rubbing grease from his fingers onto his pants.
Zim huffed, sticking his tongue out at Dib, and continued to type something on his tablet as he munched on chocolate candies. Dib continued to make his chewing as annoying a sound as possible…but Zim still sat there, refusing to leave.
Once he finished, a robotic arm, as usual, grabbed the tray right off of Dib's lap. This time, he was quick enough to try and grab it, but it slipped right out of his greasy fingers. Zim laughed. "Oh, it was a good try, Diblet."
The tray was handed to him…and his face wrinkled up. "Ugh, you're worse than I thought." He flipped the tray over, pointing at the underside. "Look! Look at the greasy sweat stains your touch left!"
Dib scowled at him. "Yeah, well, let's see how pristine you'd be after days stuck in a cell." Oh, he could just imagine their roles being reversed, with him being the one staring at Zim and just mocking his attempts to escape…
Zim huffed. "…Zim is going to have to do something about that." He grinned widely. "Fortunately, I've just gotten something prepared for you."
Dib's eyes widened, and he nervously scooted back a few inches. That didn't sound good.
Zim walked closer until he was in front of the cell, and a section of the wall opened up…just large enough for Dib to get through if he crouched. But Zim was standing right in front of it, waiting for Dib to come closer.
He weighed his options…and darted forward, trying to push past Zim. But Zim quickly wrapped him in a bear hug and scooped Dib up into his arms, even while complaining about how gross and sweaty he was.
Dib thrashed, trying to break free, but tendrils from Zim's PAK wrapped around his wrists and ankles, keeping them tied together. He still fought…until Zim reached up to give his scalp a quick scratch.
Dib quickly stiffened up, trying to fight against his urge to shiver, against the warm feeling that pooled from Zim's fingertips and through the rest of his body.
But Zim grinned and continued rubbing his claws all along Dib's scalp…until Dib grunted, his limbs falling limp against his will. Zim's grin widened when Dib shot him a death glare.
"I hate you," Dib spat, trying to get his body to listen to him, to fight.
Zim just chuckled. "Oh, keep telling yourself that," he said. "You can't keep that up forever."
He could, because it was the truth! Instead of saying that out loud, though, Dib settled for grinding his teeth and fixing a death glare on the alien. Zim was content to ignore all of it, carrying Dib away through twisting hallways while humming something near-inaudibly.
Dib debated whistling for GIR…but no, even if he was out of the cage, now wasn't the time to escape. Not with Zim holding him. He'd probably rush to whatever mess GIR made while forgetting he had Dib cradled in his arms the whole time.
Zim made a few twists and turns that Dib was half-sure were made just to confuse him, before stopping in front of a small metal door. He fumbled with Dib for a moment, and Dib started pushing against him, trying again to wriggle free. Zim grunted, quickly tightening his grip and rubbing his hand over Dib's back, scratching the very back of his head.
It all lasted only a minute before Dib fell limp again, now with Zim holding him up awkwardly under his arms. The new position let Zim reach out and press a hand to the panel beside the door, then shove Dib inside once it had opened.
Dib stumbled on his feet and whirled around, but Zim had already stepped through and let the door close behind him. The alien grinned at him, lifting one hand and gesturing for Dib to turn around.
His eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he stepped back a little so that he could glance at the room while keeping an eye on Zim.
The walls and floor were made of metal, just like everything else in Zim's lair. But right in the middle of the room was a bathtub that almost looked normal, though large enough to comfortably fit either of them several times over. It was filled with steaming water, and surrounded with several colorful bottles.
Dib turned back to Zim, who was still blocking the doorway, and raised an eyebrow.
"Well?" Zim said, looking at him expectantly and tapping his foot. "Come on, human, you should know how baths work at this point. Take off your clothes and get in."
"What!?" Dib said, face turning red. "In…in front of you? No, no way, that's not happening." He wrapped his trenchcoat a little more tightly around himself. "…and I'm not getting in that bath, either!"
Zim sneered. "I don't care what you look like under those," he said, gesturing at all of Dib. "I just want to get you cleaned and…less stinky."
"Well, too bad," Dib said, inching away from Zim and the bath. There wasn't really any room for him to escape, unfortunately. "I don't trust you, and I'm not getting anywhere near that. Either deal with my 'stink' or let me out of here."
"You're really going to be stubborn about this?" Zim scowled.
"Yeah, I am," Dib said, crossing his arms and glaring. Zim glowered back, but Dib refused to budge.
With barely any warning, Zim grabbed him under his arms, picked him up, and tossed him into the bathtub.
Dib flailed wildly for a moment, spluttering and trying to jump back out. But Zim quickly placed his hands on Dib's shoulders, pushing down until he was submerged up to his chin in the warm water.
"What the hell!" Dib yelled at him. Some water got in his mouth, which he quickly spat out. It tasted awful, what had Zim put in it!?
"'The hell' is that I'm taking care of the fact that you're starting to stink," Zim said, causally offering him a bar of soap. "This is better than baby wipes, anyway."
Dib smacked the soap away. "What do baby wipes have to do with anything!?"
"How do you think I've been dealing with your sweat until now?" Zim said. Dib tried to get up, but Zim just shoved him back down. Zim grabbed a bottle of shampoo. "You don't even need to do much. Just sit back and let Zim take care of you."
Dib quickly turned around, splashing water right in Zim's face. Zim flinched...but nothing else happened. No telltale smoke or sizzling that usually came when Zim came in contact with water.
Zim snorted. "Do you think Zim would be stupid enough to put you in a large amount of filthy unfiltered water?"
"Yes."
"I ran that water through a dozen filters," Zim continued. "I also added some liquid soap. As I said, you just need to sit back and let me take care of this."
Dib moved forward to the other end of the tub, trying again to climb out. But Zim quickly followed him, shoving his claws into Dib's hair. He pushed Dib into the water and smeared shampoo into his hair with one motion.
The feeling of fingers on his scalp made tingles go down his spine, much as he tried to fight it. Zim scratched behind both of his ears, and Dib went limp, sinking into the water.
"There we go, isn't that better?" Zim continued to rub shampoo all through Dib's hair, briefly stopping to play with his cowlick. He grabbed…something out of Dib's sight, and Dib tensed up…
But all Zim did was use some sort of nozzle to rinse his hair with warm water.
He wanted to stay tense, to be ready to fight, but Zim placed his hands on his shoulders and massaged the tension right out of them. That, combined with the heat from the water soaking into him, made him feel…loose. He wasn't relaxed, because he could never be relaxed with his enemy so close.
But his body felt limp, and his mind slowly meandered from thought to thought.
Zim scrubbed his hair with shampoo and rinsed it out again, then grabbed something blue from just outside of Dib's sight.
"You know, Dib, I won't be satisfied enough to let you out until you're completely stench-free," Zim said, rubbing the bar of soap along Dib's shoulder blades. "Even if I have to scrub every single inch of you."
Dib glared at him, using one hand to weakly push him back. "Don't you dare."
Zim was on him before he could try to climb out, looping his arms over Dib's shoulders and trapping him. "Not a fan, human?" He wiggled the bar of soap he still held in one hand.
Scowling, Dib snatched it away from him. "Ugh, fine, will you just…keep your creepy hands to yourself?"
"My hands are not creepy," Zim huffed. "But yes, if you clean yourself to my satisfaction, I'll leave those places be."
"Oh, to your satisfaction?" Dib said. "With how obsessed you are about germs, I could slough off my skin and you wouldn't be satisfied." Even as he spoke, he rubbed the bar of soap against his feet.
"I am not that bad."
"Yes, you—!" Dib froze when Zim massaged his shoulder with one hand, using the other to scratch right behind his ear. "Grrk." It wasn't fair. At some point, there shouldn't be any knots for Zim to massage or he'd grow…immune to gentle fingers on his scalp. This would stop happening.
It had to stop happening. He tightly gripped the soap, feeling it squish a little between his fingers.
"You know that I'm not," Zim cooed, rinsing his hair out again. "Don't I give you such good things? Better than the rest of humanity has given you?"
Dib flicked water over his shoulder at him, even if it was useless. "Shut up." He cleaned his feet a little more, then quickly moved on to parts of himself he didn't even want to imagine Zim touching.
Zim was thankfully quiet. Dib would have preferred to be left alone, or to not be in this situation at all, but if his enemy was quiet…he could try to pretend that the gentle hands in his hair belonged to anyone but him.
It didn't really work, since the hands were too inhuman to belong to anyone else. But he could at least try.
He kept scrubbing himself. Zim scrubbed his hair one more time and rinsed it out before humming in satisfaction, reaching out and holding out…a pink loofah and a bottle of body wash for Dib to see.
"What?" Dib said. "Is that supposed to mean something?"
"Not really," Zim said. "But it seemed like you might appreciate a bit of warning. Or…knowledge? It's not really a warning when it isn't dangerous, is it?"
"It's a warning," Dib said, already feeling tense. He had to fight against the urge to move away, since that would just lead to Zim grabbing him and holding him down. He needed to try and minimize how much Zim touched him…even if it meant letting him do things he wasn't keen on.
The loofah and body wash were pulled back. Not long after, he could feel the loofah pressing against the back of his neck. He shuddered, splashing a little water back at Zim. Zim ignored him and began to carefully scrub, using his fingers to work out any tension points he found.
For a moment, his fingers brushed against Dib's chin, too long to be accidental. Dib shuddered, and quickly brought up the bar of soap to furiously scrub his face and neck. He then dunked his head under the water and washed his face again, just to be safe.
He swore that he heard Zim sigh behind him.
Zim soon brought out the nozzle again to carefully rinse off Dib's neck. Then, he was nudging Dib into more of a sitting position, lifting up his shirt to start scrubbing his back. Dib cleaned his armpits and sides, everywhere that he could remember being a ticklish spot for him.
After that, he focused on cleaning the front of his torso. It was hard to lift his shirt in the opposite direction Zim was currently pulling, so he ended up smearing some soap on his shirt.
Zim was starting to scrub the lowest part of his back, and Dib froze. "It's alright," Zim cooed, loosely wrapping his arms around Dib's waist, leaning forward to pepper kisses on his spine.
He didn't get more than two kisses in before pulling back, sputtering. Dib glanced over his shoulder and saw that he was trying to spit out soap suds. He couldn't help but laugh at the sight, nor could he resist the urge to splash Zim with water again.
"That was pretty stupid of you," he taunted. Zim shot him a hurt glare, spitting one last time before holding the loofah with a newly determined glint in his eye.
Dib may have pushed his luck too far. He hunched down in the tub, but Zim quickly moved forward, furiously rubbing his lower back with the loofah, drizzling some extra body wash over Dib.
"Ack, okay, fine, I'm sorry!" Dib said. "That's not even the stupidest thing I've seen you do! Calm down already!"
"That is a terrible apology," Zim grunted, now scrubbing up and down his sides with vigor. He left anywhere Dib had cleaned alone, but he was starting to get rough, and there were a lot more soap suds in his shirt, now.
Dib moved forward, smacking Zim's wrists away. "You're freaking out, and that's freaking me out," he snapped. "Could you back off before you tear all my skin off!?"
That actually made Zim freeze in place. Dib took the opportunity to move to the other side of the tub, turning and facing Zim with a scowl. He very nearly climbed out, but that made Zim's claws twitch, so he stayed in place.
Slowly, still watching the alien carefully, Dib scrubbed himself down. There wasn't much left, in all honesty…just scrubbing his legs and trying to get some of the soap out of his clothes. But he still tried to work quickly, not knowing how long Zim would be stunned for.
He had just finished cleaning his shins when Zim moved over to his side. Dib tensed up, but all Zim did was rub a hand gently over Dib's side. It was a bit red from Zim's rough treatment, but it wasn't sore.
"Harming you was…not Zim's intention here," he said. "It was meant to be…there's a human phrase for this. Fun cattleplay?"
"…horseplay," Dib corrected. "…you're serious?"
Zim nodded, gently rubbing his side again, making Dib shiver all over. "I think you've been cleaned enough to remove any stench," he declared. "I'm going to use the nozzle again to rinse you off." He held up the nozzle in question for Dib to see. "No more…'horseplay'."
"…fine," Dib said, shrugging. Zim nudged him into a good position and began to hose him off. Dib kept his head turned to keep at least one eye on the alien.
If Zim noticed, he didn't show it. He seemed laser-focused on his task, only pausing to stroke Dib's side occasionally. It didn't take long to rinse Dib's back, though his shirt held onto the soap a little more stubbornly. It took time, and Zim rubbing the fabric between his fingers, to get all of it out.
Zim suddenly grabbed Dib under his arms and lifted him out of the tub. Before Dib could break free, he was plopped onto the tub's edge, Zim placing one hand on his chest. He used his other, free hand to continue rinsing Dib off. Water and soap suds spilled off of him and onto the floor, flowing over to a few drains that had been set there.
At least this position made it easier to keep an eye on Zim. As soon as the alien rinsed off his waist and legs, he went back over Dib, spraying a few times behind his ears, under his pits, and in other spots. Still, he soon stepped back, seeming satisfied.
"There!" he said proudly. "As clean as a human could be."
"Great." Dib shook his head, spraying water droplets and getting his limp, wet hair scythe out of his face. "Are we done?"
"Almost." Zim scooped him up, to his protests, and moved to a chair in the corner. "I don't want you dripping all over the base."
"Yeah, well it's not my fault that I'm soaking wet!" Dib used his slipperiness to his advantage, squirming out of Zim's hold…and plopping right into the chair, his back against one armrest and legs hanging off the other.
Zim chuckled, placing on hand on Dib's shoulders and reaching over him to push a button beside the chair. A hatch opened on the ceiling, dropping a pile of towels onto Dib's lap. They were warm, like they had just come fresh from a dryer.
Zim spread one of the towels over Dib's lap, draped another over his torso like a bib, and a third which he dropped on top of Dib's head. He then moved behind Dib and began to rub his hair dry.
Dib flinched and shifted forward automatically, but Zim wrapped an arm around him to keep him from going far. He continued to rub at Dib's hair, and though he hated it, it was as nice as the previous times Zim had rubbed his scalp.
The warmth seeping into him from the towel was a nice bonus.
"Computer, raise the ambient temperature by five degrees," Zim said, moving on to rubbing Dib's neck and shoulders dry. He whispered in Dib's ear, "You might not notice the shift, but it should help you dry off faster."
"Mhmm," Dib hummed. Maybe it was his imagination, or just the towels, but he was already feeling pleasantly warm. It made him feel drowsy…
No! He snapped out of that as Zim rubbed his ribs. He couldn't allow himself to doze off in front of his enemy. And he definitely shouldn't just sit there and let Zim dry off every inch of him.
He grabbed the towel on his lap and pulled up one leg, starting at the ankle and rubbing up until he was dry. His pants were still damp, but there wasn't much he could do about that other than wring them out a little bit.
He repeated the same thing with his other leg, then moved up his body. His drying was a lot quicker than Zim's, who seemed determined to carefully rub any part of Dib dry, even fiddling with and wringing out smaller portions of the fabric.
So, their hands bumped into each other just above Dib's belly. "Oh!" Zim said, as though surprised, entwining his fingers with Dib's. "You moved pretty quickly."
Dib pulled his hands away, dropping the towel. "Are we done, then?" He wanted to be done. He needed this to be done.
"Almost." Zim pulled out a bright magenta hair comb. "Just one last thing."
"I can live with some knots in my hair!" Dib argued, standing up…but Zim had already moved behind him and started combing. One arm was wrapped loosely around Dib's chest, and Zim took his time, carefully scraping the teeth of the comb against Dib's scalp, carefully working out a few knots.
Dib was starting to shiver from the touch, but he squeezed his knees and willed himself to stay still. Only a few minutes later, Zim finished and tucked the comb away again.
"There," he said, looking at Dib with a proud smile. "Clean and dry. Doesn't that feel so much better?"
All he got in response was a glare…and Dib attempting to spit at him. He missed, but Zim still looked disgusted.
"Come on, then," he said, taking Dib's wrist and pulling him to his feet. A robotic tendril came out of his PAK, tying Dib's wrists behind his back, again too fast for Dib to react. "I know you don't like your cell, but you'll just need to wait in it a little longer. I'm almost done getting things ready for you."
Like Dib was just going to wait for whatever Zim was going to do to him next. Maybe, finally, this could be his chance to escape.