"Prepare yourself, Dib," Zim said. "For your training for our adventure now begins in earnest!"

Dib stared at him, then glanced down at the breakfast he was in the middle of eating. "Like…right now, right this second?"

Zim sighed. "No…just today in general. Finish your breakfast first."

Dib shrugged and kept eating. "What do you mean by 'training'?" he asked.

Zim started to pace back and forth, hands clasped behind his back. "Dib-partner. Though you are far, far more skilled than any other human, I've since realized that…well, even your skills pale next to the might of…certain other species."

Ouch. Dib wanted to be slighted, but…Zim had told him a few details about his nightmare. Enough that Dib couldn't quite blame him for feeling worried. He gestured for Zim to go on, continuing to eat.

Zim kept pacing, but now raised one finger in the air to announce his idea. "So! I've decided to give you training, to bring you up to the skills of an Elite. Or at least those of a general solider."

"So…will we be sparring?" Dib asked.

"That is one thing on the agenda," Zim said with a nod. "But I'm also going to give you a not-crash course on piloting ships…since we could be involved in space fights if we…have bad luck."

"Don't you mean a crash course?"

"Silly Dib! The point of the course is to steer you away from crashing!" Zim laughed.

Dib rolled his eyes. "Fine. Flying, sparring, I'm gonna assume you're still on my case about learning starmaps and history…"

"Oh, yes."

"Anything else, 'Professor' Zim?"

Zim smirked and straightened up a little. "Just an overview of firing ranged weapons, and that should do for now."

Dib finished his plate and set it in the sink. "Great…when are we starting on that?"

"Right now!" Zim said, stepping up and looping his arm around Dib's. Before Dib could blink, he was being dragged downstairs, and all but shoved into a chair in front of a giant screen. Zim had already pulled up something that looked like a video game-esque flight simulator with an Irken ship on the screen.

"Here," Zim said, pushing a controller into his hands. It was at least a little familiar to Dib, and he fiddled with some of the knobs. "Once you master this program, you'll have mastered at least one way to fly an Irken ship."

"Do I really need a basic lesson?" Dib asked. "I've used my own ship, emand/em I flew the Massive before!"

"Yes…but the Massive didn't go where you wanted it to, did you?"

"Because you were fighting me for control," Dib pointed out.

"Details." Zim waved him off. "Now, the sooner you get the hang of this, the sooner I'll show you how to fly around in the Voot itself!"

That made Dib perk up. "Really?"

"After you get good enough at this I know you won't crash my ship right into the ground," Zim said, pointing at the waiting simulation.

Dib scoffed, taking a seat and adjusting his grip on the controller. "Easy enough," he said, pressing the button to start the simulation, which sent his ship soaring up into the air.

Eight failed attempts later, he dropped the controller in frustration. "Ugh!"

"Not so easy, huh?" said Zim, who had gone to get popcorn while watching him.

"It's unfair!" Dib protested. "How can I learn how to fly when the game keeps throwing me into the middle of battles? I keep getting shot down!"

"Simulation, not game," Zim corrected. "And the point is to get you used to flying in difficult situations. Battles are more common than you might think."

Dib narrowed his eyes. "We're not part of an army, so they might be less common than you think."

"We may not have a choice," Zim muttered. Before Dib could say anything, he flicked a popcorn kernel at him. "Again. You are getting better, you just need a little more practice."

"Really?" Dib asked hopefully.

"Mhmm. …try angling away from the battle instead of going straight up. It could help. Oh, and maybe put a little less force into your thrusters."

Dib nodded and restarted the simulation.

By noon, Dib was a little more successful at the simulation. At the very least, he was able to fly up to the fringes of the battle and survive a little longer…though he had crashed into a few asteroids and bits of debris using that strategy. Going easier on how much power he used to go forward did help with that, though.

After a few more mostly-successful runs, he and Zim broke for lunch. As soon as Dib had cleared his plate, Zim grabbed his arm again and all but dragged him to a shooting range in the depths of his base, setting a small plasma gun in front of Dib. "Show me how you would use it," he said.

Dib picked up the gun, inspecting it for a few moments before aiming it at the target and pulling back the trigger. Nothing happened.

Zim chuckled. "The safety, Dib."

"Oh." Dib pressed his thumb against a pink spot on the gun's handle. It glowed, and he squeezed the trigger again. Now, a bolt of pink energy shot out, slamming into the target. Not quite a bulls-eye, but not too bad.

Zim nodded approvingly. "Not bad. Just don't forget about the safety when we're in a real fight!"

"Like you've never forgotten about it," Dib said.

"Not since I was a young smeet," Zim said. "…and a lot of Elite Irken weapons don't have safety. We're trained to turn it off when using weapons built by other species. Trained, and trained, until it becomes automatic…"

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Anyway. Fire again."

Dib raised the gun and fired again. His shots hit the target, but still not the center. Zim stood behind him, holding his arms before he could lower them. "Hold these steady, and a little higher," he said, nudging his elbows upward until they were at chest level. He pushed up and down on Dib's forearms, forcing Dib to hold them steady. He then focused on Dib's wrists, tugging them up so Dib was looking straight down the barrel of the gun.

"Aim and fire," Zim said.

Dib squeezed the trigger again, and this time, the shot was very nearly dead center. He turned back to grin at Zim, who grinned right back.

"Now, again," he said, pointing back at the target. "We'll improve your accuracy and give you some good aiming habits." He patted Dib's back.

With a nod, Dib turned back around to face the target. He kept aiming and firing, now hitting the center target or getting close to it most of the time. Zim hummed in approval with each good shot, occasionally nudging Dib's feet and arms into better positions.

After the fifth time hitting the center of the target, Dib was feeling pretty good about his skills…and was also starting to feel a bit twitchy. "How long do I have to keep doing this?" he asked.

Zim grabbed another, slightly larger plasma gun and handed it to him. "Once you can shoot accurately with this one, too, we can move on to the next thing."

"Great!" Dib took his thumb off the safety and finger of the trigger, trading guns with Zim before taking his stance again. The target moved, swapping out with one in the shape of some hostile alien. He carefully aimed, remembered to turn off the safety, and fired.

He very nearly hit it dead-center and peppered it with more shots. This gun had a lot more power and kick to it, but he was eventually able to get used to it and improve his accuracy to the point that Zim approved.

"Excellent," he said, patting Dib's back as he took the plasma gun back. "Just a bit more practice, and you'll be ready to go! Probably."

Dib arched an eyebrow at him. "'Probably'? I thought I was pretty good, there."

"Eh, but…" Zim grimaced. "We'll need to make sure those skills stand up under pressure, too. But you are doing well." He reached up to scratch behind Dib's ear, and Dib sighed, leaning into his touch.

"Anyway. We'll take a break from that, for now, to focus on something else."

"Sparring?" Dib guessed.

"Perhaps." Zim looped his arms together and practically dragged him away again. They didn't go very far before Zim stopped in a relatively plain room with pink foam matting on the floor and walls. He let go of Dib, and then hopped a few steps away.

"I'll even let you take the first hit," he said, giving Dib a little bow with his hand stretched out.

"If you insist," Dib said, bowing his head…and then surging forward, wrapping his arms around Zim and raising his feet off the ground, pushing all his weight onto Zim.

Zim squealed as he was tipped over and onto his back. Dib kept pressing his weight against him, tangling their legs together. "Get off!" Zim shouted at him. "We're supposed to be sparring, not wrestling!"

"What's the difference?" Dib countered, to which Zim growled. "I think you're just upset that you're losing."

"Oh, yeah?" Zim said. He squirmed, he struggled…and his head shot upwards so he could press his mouth against Dib's throat. Dib froze up as Zim kissed and sucked at his skin…and a shiver went through him when he felt Zim's teeth graze against him.

That shudder turned into a slight wince when Zim added a little more pressure, but Zim pulled back and gave him a smug look. "I win," he said.

"What? No you don't!" Dib protested. "I still have you pinned!"

"And I got to your throat," Zim said. "If any Irken but me did that, your jugular would be torn out right now."

Dib was about to protest…but he quickly shut his mouth, huffing air out of his nose. "Shit," he grumbled. "That was a dirty trick, Zim."

"No dirtier than you using your…tallness against me," Zim countered, leaning up to rub the flat area of his face against Dib's nose. "Now, get off! And spar properly this time."

"Fine." Dib rolled over and got up, both of them taking a few steps back. Zim was again willing to give him the first shot…so Dib rushed forward and put him in a headlock. Or tried to, at least, because Zim grabbed his wrist and swung Dib over his shoulder, throwing him into the padded ground.

"Still okay?" he asked. Dib groaned and gave him a thumbs-up. The padding had cushioned him very well. "Good. But you advertised your attack too much!" He grabbed Dib's shoulders and yanked him back onto his feet. "Again."

And so they went at it, again and again. Dib managed to get a few good blows against Zim, even pushing him down and pinning him with his back facing up. Zim said an Irken could then use his PAK to stab him, and so they needed a rematch. Dib was pushed down in the next round, and Zim told him what he did wrong.

In his next victory, Dib shoved Zim down and placed a foot on his chest to keep him there. "There! You can't kill me like that, can you?"

"No…" Zim admitted, then grabbed Dib's leg with both hands, poking him with his claws. "But I can hurt you. And I got a few good blows in before you could pin me. Again."

That was how their sparring lasted the rest of the afternoon—while Dib was able to go toe-to-toe with Zim, Zim always saw a flaw, a weakness, an imperfection, and he was determined to hammer that out. As frustrating as it was…Dib did find it kind of fun to spar like this and get back into shape.

Or at least that's what he thought. But by the end of it, he was dripping with sweat, panting for breath, and his muscles were burning. He also had a collection of bruises from Zim, and though he gave as good as he got, he watched enviously as Zim's cleared up in a matter of minutes.

"C'mon, Dib," Zim said, bouncing on his feet. "A real enemy won't let you rest!"

"But we're not enemies, and we've been doing this for hours," Dib complained, lying on the floor and batting at Zim's ankles. "Not all of us have infinite energy supplies attached to our backs!"

"Mm, good point," Zim muttered, lowering his fists. "…could do something about that."

"What?" Dib said, tilting his head.

"Don't worry about it." Zim bent down and grabbed Dib's hand, pulling him up and onto his feet. "Now, how about some dinner?"

"Ugh, yes, please, I'm starving," Dib said. He followed behind Zim to the kitchen, holding hands. Zim started making dinner for both of them, while Dib soaked a washcloth in cold water and wiped sweat off his face and arms. Zim tried to insist that he go shower, but Dib said it'd take too long and he'd do that later…and anyway, the sandwiches were pretty much made, so why leave now?

Zim conceded to his point, and they went to the living room to eat. Dib ravenously devoured everything on his plate, Zim slipping him a few more sandwiches from his own plate. But after that and a few cookies, he finally felt satisfied, slumping against the couch and patting his stomach.

He leaned over and laid his head on Zim's lap, using one hand to fumble for the remote. Maybe there was something good on today, or he could ask Zim to play games as he watched…but he stopped searching when Zim patted his cheek to get his attention.

When he looked up, he saw that Zim was grinning and holding…flashcards. "We still need to make sure you can navigate space and understand at least a few phrases without a translator," Zim chirped.

Dib groaned, rolling over and pressing his face against Zim's belly. "I know plenty…and I'll have you!"

"Yes, and that would be all you need, wouldn't it?" Zim said a little smugly, patting his head. "…but no, you must be prepared. You must."

He flipped through the cards. "Now, what are Urth's galactic coordinates?"

"Uggh." Dib groaned, but still answered, and Zim set that card aside to go on to the next one. Dib tried to keep searching for the remote, but Zim just patted his face to get his attention back whenever it wandered. Even Dib's attempts to wrap his arm around Zim or tap the sweet spot on his spine were met with Zim casually flicking him away.

At least Dib was able to get a lot of the cards right, and when he got enough correct in a row, Zim would lean down and kiss his nose.

Still, he was tired, and only a small dent was made in those cards before his eyelids started drooping. Zim made a few attempts to keep him awake and focused, such as by flicking his ears and nose, but those would only work for a few moments before Dib began dozing off again.

"Ugh, you and your sleep," Zim sighed, tucking the cards away. "Fine. We'll call it a day before you pass out."

"Thanks, bug…" Dib mumbled, rolling over and making himself comfortable with Zim's lap as a pillow.

Zim sighed, snaking both arms under Dib and lifting him up. Dib let his head flop onto Zim's shoulder. Zim kissed his forehead and carried him down to his room.

"C'mon, wake up," Zim said, jostling him. "You reek of sweat, and you need to shower."

"Don't wanna," Dib grumbled. "I'll fall asleep in the tub…"

"Well…I'll be there to make sure that doesn't happen."

Dib perked up. "…wash my hair?"

Zim sighed, but his smile was fond. "Yes, I'll wash your hair. If that's what it takes to actually get you clean."

"Okay." Dib said with a nod. Zim nodded and carried him to the bathroom before setting him down. While he focused on filling the tub with hot water, Dib peeled off his clothes and tossed them in a corner.

Once the bath was ready, Dib slipped in, dunking his head underwater for just a moment. Zim began to lather shampoo into his hair, scratching at his scalp, which made Dib sigh, practically melting.

Zim washed and rinsed his hair a few times, then began to scrub Dib's shoulders. Dib closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax and enjoy it for a few more minutes…though he eventually grabbed a bar of soap and began to lazily clean himself.

The bath took a while, since Dib kept dozing off, but eventually, he was cleaned to Zim's satisfaction. Zim pulled him out of the tub, wrapped a warm towel around him, and shoved a toothbrush into his mouth. Dib grunted and lazily brushed his teeth with closed eyes, while Zim dried him with the towel.

Dib woke up enough to pull on his pajamas (though it took some poking and prodding from Zim), and was then carried to bed. As soon as he was laid down, Dib nuzzled into a pillow, sighing as Zim tucked him in. Zim then crawled under the covers to curl beside him, and Dib made a contented noise.

Zim began to whisper sweet nothings into his ear…

Wait a minute. Those weren't 'nothing'. It sounded like…planets and coordinates. And dates and events. Was he…seriously reading information from those flash cards to him?

Dib cracked one eye open, giving Zim a flat and unamused look. Zim, once he realized he was caught, just grinned at him innocently. "Trust me, you'll be an expert by morning this way."

Dib sighed and rolled his eyes before settling back down. "I don't care, as long as I can actually sleep."

Zim patted his head. "Of course." His voice lowered a bit more, now just a quiet murmur. It was like relaxing white noise, if Dib ignored the flux of information within.

His ignoring it probably wasn't what Zim wanted, but whatever. Dib was tired. He wrapped his arms around Zim, buried his face into the crook of his neck, and within a matter of minutes, his exhaustion had him nodding off to sleep.

Dib had thought, when he was half-asleep, that a day off could be nice. Perhaps he and Zim could watch a few movies, or go for a walk…

Once he woke up some more, though, he realized Zim was still whispering information to him, now about Voot maintenance. Did that mean he'd been doing that all night?

Dib frowned, burying his face into his pillow and keeping his eyes tightly shut. The longer he pretended to be asleep, the longer it would be before Zim flung them both into another training activity.

"And the Voot can maintain the scary-fast drive for…half a schmillion light years," Zim said. "…I can tell you're awake, Dib."

Dib groaned. "No, I'm not. I'm asleep. Snore."

Zim laughed, patting the top of his head. "Cute." Dib felt heat rush to his cheeks and ears. "The longer you pretend to be unconscious, the longer you'll have to go without chocolate chip pancakes…"

Dib laid still for a few seconds, then turned his head to look at Zim with one eye. "Did you really make those? Or…will you?"

"Mhmm. Since you worked so hard yesterday," Zim said, petting his hair. "There's even plenty of honey for you to add to them."

Dib let go of his pillow to instead wrap his arms around Zim, nuzzling into his lower torso. "You're the best."

"I know," Zim said, bending to kiss Dib's forehead. "Now, come on. You'll want to eat plenty of those delicious pancakes to get the energy you'll need! Today will be a busy day."

Dib sighed, sagging a little. He knew it. It was tempting to retract his statement about Zim being the best, but he didn't. He rolled out of bed and followed Zim to the promised pancakes, stretching and yawning. It probably wasn't so bad—one more busy day of training wouldn't hurt.

Three days later, Dib still felt tired and sore as he woke up.

Every day, Zim had insisted on some kind of training. More flight simulations, more sparring, more practice with both ranged and melee weapons…all of it filling every hour that wasn't taken up by eating and sleeping.

And even then, Zim would ramble on about important information! Though at least he'd given Dib a massage as he fell asleep on the second day when Dib complained about being sore…that'd been nice.

The other nice thing was that the day after that, Dib had even been doing well enough in flying simulations that Zim had begun giving him lessons flying the actual Voot! It was actually easier for Dib to pick up the skills there than in the simulations, and he enjoyed himself as he soared around different planets in the solar system as part of practice.

He loved flying the Voot—it was probably the highlight of the training so far. But as much as he loved it, and enjoyed the sparring and learning how exactly to use different weapons, it was all just…so much.

"Good morning, Dib," Zim said, kissing his forehead and rubbing his shoulders. "How are you feeling?"

Dib just groaned in response, sagging into his nest. Zim hummed, pressing a little harder on his shoulders to rub knots out of taunt muscles. "Perhaps breakfast in bed would be best today."

With a mumble, Dib moved his hand just outside of his blanket cocoon and gave a thumbs-up. Zim moved to massage his lower back.

"After that…hmm. Well, I don't want you flying the Voot like this, and sparring would be too easy for Zim to claim victory," he mused. Dib scowled, since it was true that Zim had been winning more and more frequently. "Perhaps we should just focus on ranged weapons today."

Dib groaned and shook his head. "You're right. Studying history and geography would give your body more of a chance to heal," Zim said, palms digging deep into Dib's sore muscles.

"…no." Dib pushed himself up a little, just enough to turn and give Zim a look. "Zim, just…stop. Can we stop, just for one day?"

"There's so much to go over, though," Zim pointed out.

"So much that we can't even stop for a day, for an hour?" Dib snapped. He inhaled sharply, taking a second before saying a little more calmly, "You're burning me out like this, Zim."

"I thought you enjoyed learning things like this," Zim said, tilting his head.

"I do! But…in moderation," Dib said. Zim tilted his head further, like that was a foreign concept to him.

"Look. Everything, all of it all at once, it's just…all too much," Dib sighed, rubbing at his temples. "I know you want me to be prepared, but I'm…I'm just tired, Zim. And it's getting hard to remember anything that you're trying to show me."

"It is?" Zim asked, antennae wilting.

"I mean…a little," Dib said. "But if you just tone it back maybe a little bit—"

"But I don't know what the right amount is," Zim said, tugging at the fingers of his gloves and then pulling them back into place. "I don't want to hurt you by doing too much. But if I do too little, you could get hurt, and I can't allow that!"

"…Zim," Dib said, grabbing one of his hands between his own. Zim flinched, but the touch seemed to ground him, so Dib took his other hand, as well. "We've been working at a good pace before this. I'll be fine. We'll both be fine."

"…can you promise that?" Zim said. "No matter what happens? There's so much danger out there in the wider universe, Dib. I know you've seen some of it, but believe me, some is worse than you can imagine."

He tightly squeezed Dib's hand. "Cold, ruthless, and efficient…they would not think twice before swatting us away like pests, if we are not careful or ready enough."

Dib's brow furrowed. "…you're still thinking about that nightmare you had, aren't you?"

Zim flinched and pursed his lips, averting his gaze…he wasn't denying it.

Dib's expression softened, and he reached over to wrap his arms around him, pulling Zim into his lap. He kissed Zim's head, near the base of his antennae, and let his lips linger there for a few moments before pulling away.

"We'll be fine, Zim," he said. "It's not like we've never been in danger before, and we've always managed to get out of it. And now that we're working together, we'll be even stronger!"

"Never a danger like this, though," Zim said, pressing his head just above Dib's heart. "Can you really promise we'll be safe?"

Dib quickly nodded, and Zim narrowed his eyes at him. "Liar. You didn't even think before answering."

"I'm just that confident in us," Dib said. Zim narrowed his eyes further, growling a little. "Okay, fine. Do you want me to say we're all doomed and just give up on ever leaving the planet?"

"…no," Zim grumbled. "But we could at least accept we need more training before we're ready."

"And maybe you could accept we have plenty of time that you can relax and not train me to exhaustion every single day," Dib countered, poking the spot on Zim's face where his nose would have been.

Zim frowned, but tension slowly left him. "…you have a point."

"Plus, if our planned takeoff day comes around, and you still feel like I'm not ready…we can wait," Dib argued. "Right? There's no rush to get out there. We can wait until we're both ready."

Zim sighed, leaning his head against Dib's shoulder. "I know". They lay there quietly for a few more minutes before he added, "…and I do know that you can handle yourself out there."

"Mhmm!" Dib said smugly, giving his shoulder a small, reassuring squeeze.

Zim tapped his claws together. "And yet…I also know how dangerous they can be. Accepting both those pieces of information is difficult."

"Well…we weren't exactly planning on flying up to their doorstep, were we?" Dib said. "They can't find you. If we don't draw attention to ourselves, we'll be fine."

"…that's true," Zim said, perking up a little. "Yes… if we avoid the areas of…certain doom, and stick to those of manageable danger, we'll be fine."

"And…you're Zim—" Dib said, cut off with a yawn. Still, he continued, "And between the two of us, we can handle anything."

Zim smiled, leaning up to affectionately bump his head against Dib's chin and give him a small nuzzle. "My clever, charming human," he purred. "…alright. No more intense training." He poked Dib's nose. "I'll still be helping you hone your skills, though."

"As long as it doesn't turn into training for entire days at a time, I'm fine with that," Dib said. He yawned again and flopped back onto the mattress, rolling over to press his cheek against Zim's waist and look up at him.

"Alright," Zim ruffled his hair. "If it's ever too much, just tell me and I can stop."

"Thanks…" Dib yawned again.

"I'm taking it that today wouldn't be a good day for training?" Zim asked. When Dib nodded, Zim shifted into lying next to him. "A day of total rest does sound pretty nice."

"Yeah," Dib mumbled, eyelids already drooping.

Zim yawned, curling up next to Dib. "…perhaps a little bit of sleeping in would be the best way to start?"

"Sounds perfect." Dib wrapped an arm around Zim's shoulders, holding him close as he closed his eyes.

He reached up with one hand to stroke Zim's antennae. He felt Zim's body go limp, his blood-pumping organ slowing down to a crawl. He cracked one eye open to see Zim sleeping peacefully, expression content as he used Dib's shoulder as a pillow.

A smile spread over Dib's face, and he closed his eyes and let himself doze off.