Chapter Six:

A Trade

[Dib]

I'm not sure what to expect when the false walls to the elevator slide open. Rage, for sure - maybe some screaming or a punch in the face. But as the doors part and leave only a thin layer of glass between us and the upper level of the base, I see her sitting against the opposite wall, hugging her knees to her chest and looking…sad.

Her eyes widen and flick up to meet mine as the elevator settles in place. She quickly dries her face with the back of her sleeve and scrambles to her feet.

"Dib," she blurts. Her voice is a wild mix of emotions and I don't know how to react. My words are fleeting as she crosses the hall, and I can't remember the half-assed lie I conjured on the way up.

Shit.

"Uh, hey, Gaz-"

I flinch as she punches the glass panel between us.

"What the fuck is going on with you?" The familiar rage returns to her eyes and burns up the image of the sad girl from moments before. "What happened? Where have you been? Why are you covered in blood?" Her gaze flashes to Zim, temporarily relieving me of her wrath. "And what is Zim doing here?"

"I live here," Zim says, confused. He looks at me with a crinkled expression. "Your pig sibling is getting dumber like you, Dib-stink. Do all humans lose intelligence as they age?"

Gaz snarls. "I mean why are you even involved in this, Zim!"

Hurry up, say something, you idiot-

"He saved me."

Ugh. The words feel so gross; I'm sure I must look nauseated. Gaz looks back at me with a furrowed brow. "Yeah," I continue, swallowing the lump of ick in my throat, "He uh - hey! "

Zim suddenly pushes me to the side. I have to grab the wall to stay on my feet.

"Zim heroically rescued the poor, defenseless Dib creature from certain DOOM!" he yells, pumping his fists in the air. "If Zim had not followed the stinking Dib, he would indeed be dead and even more USELESS than he is now." He crosses his arms dramatically and humphs. "If you could believe such a thing."

Her eyes flit between the two of us and she purses her lips. She's not buying it yet, but...it's not a total lie.

"What did he rescue you from, exactly?"

"Oh…" I clear my throat and elbow Zim out of the way before he says anything stupid and nonsensical. "I, uh - I went ghost hunting in this old house in the woods." A string of memories floats up: fog lining the trees, the smell of wet grass, the creak of old wood. A flashlight, a scream. Zim's Pak leg punching through my chest.

Don't think about it.

"The floorboards must've been rotting. I fell through and landed on the debris." I glance down at my hoodie, crusted with layers of blood and grime. "Got cut up pretty bad, actually–"

"Yes, yes, whatever!" Zim interrupts. "But THEN Zim arrived and SAVED the poor, weak squish Dib with my SUPERIOR skills! The sad earthen boy would still be trapped in the filth house if not for my GRACIOUS act of mercy !"

Goddammit.

"Yeah…" I mutter, rubbing my arm. "Yeah, Zim saved me. Which is pretty embarrassing to admit, so…I'd rather we just move on from this whole experience."

She holds my gaze for an uncomfortably long moment, examining my face and tattered clothes. It's a struggle to maintain eye contact, but I manage to stare back at her until her shoulders finally relax. She lets out a sigh. "I can't believe you're still doing this shit. You're lucky dad's gone."

I scoff. As if him being home would've made a difference. "Yeah, well…I'm okay. Sorry for scaring you."

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms in a huff. "I wasn't scared. Just stop doing stupid stuff so I don't have to babysit you so much."

My face drops. "Babysit me? Since when-"

"Is he all fixed or whatever?" she snaps, turning back to Zim. "I'm sick of waiting here. Your house is literally the worst."

Zim lifts a hand to his chest and gasps like an old, offended woman. "WHAT?"

"It's fucking freezing in here and there's nothing to do. It's boring, Zim."

"How DARE you?" he screeches. I cover my ears again. I'm definitely going to lose my hearing at a young age. "Zim's home is the PERFECT replica of the average dirt human's living quarters, and as such, is the PINNACLE of stealth and design!"

My brow scrunches and I lower my arms. "Dude, you have a toilet in your kitchen."

He stomps his foot and the elevator shakes. "IT'S PERFECTION!"

"God fucking - okay Zim, whatever!" I yell. "Please, stop shouting-"

Gaz hits the glass again, losing interest in Zim's theatrics. "I'm taking him home, slug brain." Her tone is venomous. Zim's expression holds a particularly strong disgust as he glowers at my sister and hisses something in Irken. I guess we probably shouldn't be messing with the only one here who's capable of helping me…but it is pretty funny.

"He cannot leave," Zim says, his voice lowered in an attempt to compose himself. "He must be monitored."

Gaz squints. "For how long?"

"You can have him back tonight." I look at Zim in confusion. That seems too soon. We still don't even know what's wrong with me.

Gaz thinks it over for a moment. "...Fine. But I'm taking the robot."

"What?" Zim asks, incredulous. "What use could you possibly have for him?"

She shrugs half-heartedly. "For ransom, mostly. You can have your idiot back when I have mine ."

A low growl rumbles from his chest, but Gaz holds her ground with crossed arms and a stern, somewhat bored expression. He gives in, snarling and waving his hands in the air. "Fine, fine! Whatever - take GIR back to your stupid worm hole. Zim will not be held responsible for any items he destroys and/or eats." He snaps his fingers. "GIR! Prepare yourself to leave with this terrible female."

A loud clang erupts from the other room as GIR rolls off of the couch. "SLEEPOVER!" He shrieks and begins to laugh maniacally. There's a sharp crash - shards from the potted plant are sent flying in every direction, followed by clumps of dry dirt. "SLEEPOOOVVVER!"

His energy somehow reaches a new zenith. He torpedoes through the living room and kitchen, grabbing a dozen random things and pieces of trash as he weaves in and out of view. He snatches a pillow from the couch and tears it open, ripping out the old, wadded stuffing before shoving the objects into the makeshift bag. He hums in a happy tone and waddles into the hallway with the misshapen sack in his arms. The look of pride beaming across his face at his… ingenuity…is actually a little heartwarming.

"I'm ready, scary lady!" He bounces over to Gaz and stands at attention by her side.

Zim squints at the two of them for a long moment before letting out a sigh of defeat and rubbing his forehead.

"Yes, well…good job, GIR."

Gaz, on the other hand, doesn't seem as annoyed as I would expect. She pats GIR on the head and turns to leave. "Come on, rust bucket. You're my hostage today."

He swings his raggedy pillowcase over his shoulder and salutes. "I'M THE SAUSAGE!"

"Yep," she nods, "that's definitely what I said."

On her way to the front door, idiot bot in tow, Gaz stops and gives us one last death glare. "You better hurry up and fix…whatever this is." Her eyes snap to meet mine with an expression that's sure to give me a few nightmares. "And if you die, I'll kill you."

She slams the door shut so hard that the house rattles. We listen to GIR squeal in an octave I didn't know existed and sing the Hot Pocket jingle all the way down the street until the sound fades entirely.

"Ugh," Zim moans, "what a horrible creature." And in a much quieter voice, "I really liked that plant."

"She's not so bad… she's just worried about me. Also, that plant was definitely dead."

He scoffs as he presses the button for the elevator to descend. "Zim thought blood-related humans were supposed to be more…affectionate toward one another."

I shrug. "Some people show they care in different ways. Gaz shows it through unbridled rage and the constant threat of physical violence."

Zim's mouth tugs into a thin frown, but he stays quiet until the elevator settles on the lowest floor. The glass panels slide open with a soft hiss and I feel my stomach coil at the site of the bloody table and hanging tubes; a painful reminder of my current state.

My mind races with every possible protest. Any reason to reject further medical help. Zim ignores my hesitation and makes his way to his workbench, rearranging the tools and muttering to himself. My fingers graze the hole in my gut, tracing up to the little red splotches along my forearms where the tubes had been pulled.

I don't want any more needles. I don't want to lay on the cold table. I don't want to be here, but the taste of gore lingers on the back of my tongue as a constant reminder that, as much as I absolutely despise it, I… need Zim.

He finally notices I'm still standing in the elevator like a dork. He drags a hand down his face and grumbles.

"We made an agreement, Dib-stink. You got to see your filth pig sister, and now you must let Zim work."

I tongue the inside of my cheek. "No feeding tube?"

"Yes, for the millionth time," he groans. "Zim will not use the feeding tube. Just get back on the table and cease with all your nonsense words."

I rub my arms and step off of the platform. The wall shuts behind me.

My feet feel heavy.

Waterlogged.

"You got any blankets or pillows or…something? It's cold."

He glares back at me and purses his lips. "You're sweating."

"Okay, well, I'm still cold."

His mouth tugs to the side. "Zim does not have use for those items. My SUPERIOR Irken genetics allow my body to remain in perfect homeostasis without your silly human sheets."

My shoulders slump. Figures he would be simultaneously helpful and useless. I skulk over to the table and hoist myself onto the side.

"You told Gaz I'd be home tonight," I say, examining my forearms again. "Are you sure I'll be…okay by then?"

"If by 'okay' you mean not as bite-y, yes." His claws tap against the side of his desk and a thin green light flashes in a singular beam before expanding to a hologram of sorts. A double helix appears, spinning slightly, surrounded by what I can assume to be Irken symbols.

"Is that my DNA?" I tilt my head and try to run my hand through the light, but Zim slaps it away.

"Ow!"

"Yes, it's a scan of your incredibly simple genetic coding."

"...What for?"

He looks at me like I'm stupid. "I'm monitoring it. It's different than before."

My eyes squint. "So this isn't the first time you've…downloaded my DNA-"

"Of course not!" he snaps. "Don't be an idiot. I've studied your entire chemical makeup and it is just as pathetic as I suspected. You humans are nothing more than meat bags with jelly in your skull."

"Huh." I stare at the hologram and pretend to see the difference he's referring to, but it looks normal to me. "But…how is that going to help us by tonight?"

The hologram vanishes and he slams the desk drawers shut.

"Hurry up and lay down already," he mutters, grabbing the IVs. "Your body needs rest - you've been conscious for too long and it's annoying me."

"But - umph–"

He shoves me back against the table. The familiar chill spreads across my exposed skin and I grimace at the bright lights above.

I could probably fight back, but something in my chest feels heavy and pained. The darkness of medicated sleep holds an offer of peace, even if only for a few hours.

I shift my hips and try to get comfortable as he slips the first needle into my wrist. The sting is short-lived before a plume of warmth rushes into my veins. My muscles twitch and I think back to yesterday, a time that seems so disjointed from where I am now. A time when I'd rather die than let Zim stick any needles in me; when the thought of lying on a table in his lab would've meant certain defeat.

"Zim," I start, craning my neck to the side to avoid his red eyes. "What's wrong with me?"

Another needle dips below my skin. "I'll create an organized list while you sleep."

"You suck."

He hums in response, fidgeting with the pump. The heat trickles through my body.

"Zim," I start again, tipping into the dark.

He groans. " What, Dib?"

"Can you give me a lot?" The light overhead blurs into a million soft streaks; a star exploding into snowfall. The words feel like cotton balls pushing up my throat. "Enough so I don't dream?"

I don't know if he responds. The lab dissipates around me, and a weighted silence covers my world - gentle, warm, fuzzy. I close my eyes and relinquish my thoughts to the fragile, quiet snow.

…

…

…

When I wake up, two things are made immediately apparent: a soft blanket has been draped rather meticulously over my body…and I'm shackled to the table.

"Ugh, Zim ." The words crack past my dry throat. My hands flex against the cold metal restraints as I try to lift my head. "Zim!" A little louder now. "Don't you think this is a little unnecessary?"

I wait for a response - some snotty retort about how stupid I am - but the silence holds.

I look around the lab with my limited range of motion. It's completely empty.

He left me here…?

My head thumps back against the table. I can't believe he ditched me. Well, I guess I can believe it, but still, what a shit.

My chest deflates with a heavy sigh, and as I stare at the ceiling, I notice that the lights aren't as bright as before. I wonder where he got the blanket from, or when he put it over me. It's unsettling to think of Zim being anywhere near me while I'm unconscious. And even worse, I have no idea how long it's been or what time it is - or anything, really. The lack of windows and the stark sterility of the lab inspire a feeling of uneasy isolation. Being strapped to a table definitely doesn't help.

I flex my hands again and wiggle my feet, testing the restraints. Strangely enough, they don't seem very strong. I take a deep breath and begin pulling one arm up. The shackle holds tight, but only for a moment. As I focus and pull harder, the metal starts to creak. The friction brings a growing heat to it, and after another few seconds of increasing my effort, it breaks.

The force shakes the table and my breath hitches. I stare at my free hand, fully expecting a mark along my wrist - but there's nothing.

"What the fuck," I whisper. The shock is quickly replaced by determination. One by one, I snap the metal rungs in half, releasing my limbs and sliding off of the table. The blanket falls to the floor; a tag sticks out of the folds. I frown.

Well, he definitely stole that.

I make a mental note to chide him once again about his thieving habits when he gets back from…wherever the fuck he went.

In the meantime, I decide to snoop around. Another opportunity like this may never present itself. A whole lab of alien shit to explore and no Zim? Perfection.

I throw the blanket back on the table and start with the workbench closest to me. I try pressing the hologram button from earlier, but nothing happens.

"Damn it," I mutter. Must be activated by his fingerprint or heat signature. I shrug and settle with opening the drawers and flipping through dozens of papers. Most of them are completely illegible Irken symbols, but I finally find a picture of something I recognize.

"Oh, hey." I pull the paper out and spread it on the desktop. Several blueprints of his Pak line the page. Colored arrows and more Irken letters. I try to figure out what he was doing, but there really isn't a way for me to understand any of it. The faintest memory of sparks and grinding metal flashes in my mind. The image of Zim hunched over the desk, torch in hand. I groan before remembering the questionably sentient asshole living in the ceiling.

"Hey, Computer!" I call, looking up. "Are you, uh…awake?"

I wait, but nothing happens. "Computer?" I cup my hands around my mouth. "Hell-OOO-"

"UGH, WHAT?!"

The deep electronic voice shakes the lab and nearly scares the shit out of me. I catch myself on the desk and clear my throat.

"Oh, uh…" Turning on my heels, I grab the paper and hold it over my head. "Can you translate this for me?"

It groans in a manner far too dramatic for a robot.

"Uh…" I lower my arms and purse my lips. "…is that a yes?"

"NO!" It bellows. "HUMANS are not authorized. Do not speak to me again!"

"But I-"

All of the lights suddenly turn off and the lab is plunged into darkness.

"...You didn't have to turn everything off," I grumble. Goddammit, now I'm alone and bored. Figures Zim would give his computer a personality as shitty as his own.

I sigh and lean against the desk. Guess I can check 'night vision' off the list of cool powers I might have now. There's no point in trying to explore further - with my luck, I'll just trip over something and be incinerated.

"Ugghh, you're the worst, Zim," I snap. "The absolute –"

The word sticks in my throat when the lab shakes again. Faint beams of light shoot down from the ceiling in the back corner and my heart skips.

The Voot!

I scramble to shove all of the papers back where I found them, but the low lighting makes it a bit difficult. I do the best I can, slam the drawers shut, and hop back onto the table, pulling the blanket into my lap as I watch the ship lower into the lab. The air around it glistens and wavers, humming in my bones.

It lands, and a moment later, the hatch opens and Zim appears, ducking out and starting down the ramp. His glowing eyes immediately meet mine and he frowns as he approaches.

"Dib, what are you doing?" He smacks a button on the wall on his way over and all of the lights come back on. "And why were the lights off?"

"Because your computer is a dick," I answer, wincing at the sudden brightness. "Where have you been?" He looks surprised to see the broken shackles hanging uselessly on the sides of the table, but he quickly changes his expression.

"Acquiring food." He holds up a small cardboard box. "The circular kind. With cheese."

"Oh." I fidget with the blanket in my lap. "Thanks for this, by the way. I mean, it's still freezing in here, and I still don't condone your habit of stealing…but it helped."

He ignores my comment and drops the pizza box next to me before turning on his heels toward the Voot. He seems…different. Annoyed, maybe? More than he usually is, anyway.

It's clear he's not going to give me an answer, so I shrug to myself and grab a slice of pizza from the box. The steam curls off of the cheese and sauce-tinged grease drips from the edges. I take my mouth watering as a good sign and close my eyes as a surge of relief washes over my body. God, I didn't know how fucking hungry I was until now.

I inhale the rest of the pizza, eating so quickly that I'm not sure if I even pause for air. Only crumbs and grease stains are left. I feel a bit disappointed there isn't more, but at least Zim remembered to think about one of my human needs. I glance up to see him duck out of the Voot. The ramp stays down and the hatch doesn't close. Is he leaving again?

"Oh good." He nods at the empty box as he approaches. "I was afraid I would have to convince you to eat as well." His tone is soaked with indignation, so I change the subject.

"You didn't have to chain me to the table, you know."

"Of course I did," he retorts. "Not that it did you any good– hey!" He narrows his eyes at the crumpled papers sticking out of the drawers of his desk.

Damn it.

"You DARE touch Zim's things?" He rips the drawers open and his mouth slants into an angry frown. " This is why you were restrained, stink-child. They're WRINKLED now. Completely ruined."

"They're fine, Zim. Calm down." I lean back on my hands and watch him busy himself with reorganizing the pages. "What're you doing to your Pak? Is it broken?"

He slams the stack of papers back into place and snarls at me. "Do not SNOOP, Dib-stink! It is very ugly."

"Uh-huh." I press the remaining crumbs from the pizza box into my index finger and lick them off. "So what're you doing to it?"

"Maintenance." He slams the drawer shut and shows his teeth again. "And it's none of your cheesewax, Dib."

"It's beeswax," I correct.

"SILENCE!" he booms. He hunches down and scans the room before speaking again in a much more hushed tone. "We will not speak of such creatures here. But, if you must know," he says, straightening his shoulders, "the Pak needed repairs after you so rudely damaged it during your beast fit."

"Oh, shit." The memories are sparse and fleeting. I try to push them away before they can solidify so I don't have to think about how I could've possibly been so out of control. "Um…I'm sorry."

He waves me off. "No matter. Zim is used to your destructive tendencies. Now," he claps his hands together and looks me over, "you seem to have slept well enough to not look as ugly as before."

I squint. "Gee, thanks, Zim."

"And you have yet to vomit, despite eating recently." He circles around to my side and frowns. "I see you tore out your IVs again ."

My brow knits and I turn to see the tubes hanging from their pumps, detached and dripping ever so slightly.

"I…don't remember doing that. But I do feel a little better." I avert my gaze to the empty box. "Eating seemed to help, actually."

"Good!" he snaps. "Zim was getting sick of listening to your sniveling misery. Now go get in the Voot so I can take you back to your stinking home."

I blink and turn to him. "What? You're taking me home?" A mixture of panic and relief swirls in my gut. "Already?"

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, as I just said."

"But…but we didn't do anything," I protest. "I mean, did you figure anything out? Do you know what's wrong with me or how we can fix it or–"

"Zim doesn't need to explain anything to your puny brain, Dib !" he shouts, nose creasing. "There's no need for you to stay here when you can rest and be filthy in your own house. Besides," he growls, "your pig-smelly sister has been abusing GIR's communication systems all day and sending Zim rude messages. I am very tired of you both."

The image of Gaz sitting back at home and harassing Zim from afar makes me smile...but it fades when I remember what he said to me earlier.

"Okay, but am I…safe?" I ask quietly. "Will Gaz be safe?"

Zim lets out a big sigh. "Of course - don't be stupid, Dib. I would not make such a suggestion if I thought otherwise, lest I suffer through another one of your pathetic outbursts."

I clench my hands, wringing them in my lap as my mind filters through every possible scenario. I mean, I feel better. And he's right, I haven't thrown up my food yet, either. And going home sounds nice - showering, in particular - sounds nice.

Still, I can't shake the fear that whispers between my thoughts. The gaps in my memory. So many things could go wrong, and Gaz wouldn't be able to fight me off if I...

If I...

Shut up. Don't think about it.

"Okay," I breathe and try to steady my hands. "But, like, how do you know that it's safe?"

The grin that creeps across his lips makes my stomach coil.

"Because, Dib-stink," he sneers and places his hands on his hips. " I will be accompanying you."