Your Eyes are Red

by Pay-no-mind-totheinsanity

Dib shows up to school feeling pretty shitty after a long, seemingly fruitless night of exploration in an abandoned asylum. Zim, who would normally enjoy nothing more than to bask in the anguish of his enemy, becomes determined to figure out what's going on with his arch-nemesis...and why he smells so weird. (have fun with this slow burn between two idiots)

15. Chapter 15: Stay

Chapter 15:

Stay

[Dib]

A hurricane of red surrounds me. I'm everywhere and nowhere all at once. Ghosts nip at the frayed threads as I float. Hollow shells, memories, things I once was or wanted to be. Fragmented and spliced, my existence falters tenuously on the edge of a chasm that has no end. I should be gone.

Pull it out.

My flesh is an anchor, threatening the light of the moon with the weight of a crimson tide. I'm vaguely aware of the dull movements, but they aren't my own - they're the ripple effects of the thing inside of me. It tries over and over to pull me down; the rhythmic attempts are always stopped in the same spot; a microscopic barrier as thin as a bubble's filmy shell. Each time, I brace for it to pop - and each time, it holds. Why am I still here?

Pull it out.

The thing is in my lungs. Poking, prodding, sucking gulps of air. My brain is on fire in the absence of oxygen. The cells spit and sizzle; hot grease evaporating, charring the meat on my bones to dry crisps.

Take it out.

I reach through the red and find nothing. No tethers, no ridges, no leverage of any kind. It's all the same - viscous fluid and film - an embryonic sac. A strange frequency pulses through where my hand should be.

Take it out.

I can't. Can I? I'm not in my body - I'm nowhere. Everywhere. It's all so red.

You're dying.

The frequency spikes and zaps the space between my fingers. A memory bubbles up from below, singed and faint.

Zim.

I can smell his blood. There's so much of it – too much of it.

He's dying–

Pull it out–

Everything is wet. No texture or shape could distinguish my body as something whole and human – it's only a mass of gore and pulp.

He's dying–

Take it OUT–

A broiling heat spills into the red. The pressure shrinks to the size of a pin before exploding in a white-hot plume. I think I'm screaming. Am I screaming?

Something drags deep in my chest - the vibration shakes my core and the pressure builds and builds until I think I may dissolve, but I hold, and I keep pulling with invisible hands, clawing mindlessly in the red. A sudden vacuum appears in the void, and the world comes rushing back with a violence so abrupt, the whiplash rips through me at a molecular level. I suck desperately at the air as my lungs reinflate. Wet, heavy coughs send stabbing pains through my ribs. Blood and bile and mucus follow in copious amounts, staining my chin, spilling into my hands. I choke and gasp and fight to stay inside a body that no longer feels like it belongs to me.

My vision returns in pixelated bursts. Something wriggles from the swaths of fluid and plops into my hands. My eyes strain against the red, and I see it.

Its tendrils writhe aimlessly, slimy, coated in my blood, chunks of indiscernible tissue sticking to its gaping mouth. From the numbness, rage strikes.

I crush it in my fists. It makes no sound beyond the sloppy squelch of its body. I feel its muscles jerk and curl against my palms, but I merely tighten my grip, digging my nails into the soft, rubbery texture until it stops moving altogether.

I drop its mangled corpse at my knees. The impact ripples in the pool of my blood. I stare at it as my body continues to regenerate, stitching together all the pieces of me that were torn. Stolen. It takes another minute for the ringing in my ears to stop, and when it does, a different sound pierces my skull.

It's wet and deep and sharp, laced with spurts of liquid, something splattering. My nostrils flare as the smell of his blood hits me like a wall, and I drag my gaze from the ground to the other side of the cavern.

The other one, the first one, is crouched over Zim, raising her hand in violent jerks as she stabs her talons into his stomach over–

And over–

And over–

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. A sickening heat spills over me. I try peeling myself from the ground, but my legs are weak and my knees won't stop buckling.

Zim.

I try again and again and again, until finally, a strangled noise manages to form between my vocal cords. My fingers dig into the stone as I push myself up and stagger toward him with heavy, rigid steps.

Zim.

The thing doesn't stop impaling him. The scent of his blood is so thick, it coats my tongue. His body jolts with every impact, but the rest of him is limp and silent.

"I will take you apart, insect!"

Her voice grates my bones.

He's dying–

Do something–

"I will pull out your pieces and break them in front of you!"

He's dying–

Her talons jut between his PAK and spine.

He's dying–

She starts to pull–

He's dying–

Sparks ignite from snapping coils–

KILL HER.

My vision goes red. It's not the void, though - it's something deeper. Something angry. My legs move so fast, muscles tear along my thighs, but it doesn't matter. Nothing else matters.

"Zim!"

The cavern whips past me in a millisecond. She doesn't have time to react to my voice before our bodies collide with a loud smack of flesh. I feel her ribs break and crumple around the curve of my shoulder. We tumble and slide, skin peeling against the rock, rolling until a pillar of limestone stops our momentum with a deafening thwack.

Her head snaps up to meet mine. Rows of razor-like teeth glint in the dim blue light, her sockets empty and yet overflowing with pure, unadulterated rage.

"Mutt!"

She moves fast. Her claws raise over my head and come down like a wave of death, but the red is in my veins, in my marrow, consuming all my thoughts and filling my limbs with something that burns like the sun. My hand juts up and grabs her by the bony crook of her wrist, absorbing the shock of the blow as it pulses down my frame. Her fury reaches a new zenith, but when I see the bright pink gore staining her fingers, so does mine.

My hand flexes - her wrist snaps. Her other arm swipes across my peripheral, dark and shredded, but despite her speed, I manage to duck beneath it, and her claws meet nothing but empty air.

The cry of her fury splits my eardrums. I push off her body and stumble back as she lashes out, teeth bared, jaw snapping for the flesh of my neck. Her spine bubbles and pops, vertebrae separating, making room for the filmy, white tendrils to spring from the curve of her back.

"You insignificant husk!" she snarls.

One of the appendages shoots toward me and latches onto my wrist.

"There is no escape!"

In a flash, I'm yanked to the ground. My nose smacks the rock and breaks, spurting thick globs of blood and flinging stars across my eyes. I sputter as the warmth gushes down my throat–

"No one ever escapes!"

Another tendril curls around my leg and squeezes until the bone creaks–

Inevitable–

Zim–

KILL HER–

I twist my body and clamp my teeth into the white coil on my wrist. A putrid fluid spills over my tongue. The muscles in my jaw bugle and I bite it in half.

She shrieks again, but it's distant now. The red is getting louder. Stronger. Pulling me somewhere hot and terrible and yet so addicting in its taste.

I grab the one around my leg and it rips in slick strands. She lunges at me. I spring off the ground, dodging the first blow and meeting the second with the hard point of my elbow. The shockwave nearly brings me to my knees. Her talons cut through my bicep - I let her dig the blades deep into the muscle, gritting my teeth in a nauseating plume of agony - and then I yank my arm down, pulling her into me, over me. The force of it tears the balance from her legs. I tuck my head down into my chest and throw my other arm as hard as I possibly can toward her sternum. It's only a second, but it feels like lifetimes pass between the thrust and the impact. The air grows stale in my lungs and releases in a sudden whoosh when my knuckles collide with her chest.

A wave of energy explodes from my body. Her ribs snap like toothpicks. Her sunken flesh splits around my hand, spraying me with dark tar. Something in my shoulder rips. My fist barrels through her torso until it bursts from the other side, lacerating her jagged spinal column in a millisecond.

Her body folds over mine. I fall forward, bent between her hips and collarbone, and we hit the ground with a teeth-rattling thud.

It's in the lungs–

I waste no time–

It's in the lungs–

I rip my fist from her shattered rib cage and bring both hands down like the cleaver of a butcher–

Take it OUT–

My fingers are quick to find the splintered edges of her bones. I grab them and pull, wrenching her chest in two with a fury that tastes of copper and salt. The sound envelopes my skull; a rapid succession of sharp cracks and a thick, spurting squelch. She has no time to fight back - no time to block the heat of my movements. I pry her open and jam my nails into the hard tissue of her lungs. They dislodge like apples plucked from dry branches. A violent shudder runs her through; her empty eyes boring into mine with a useless, seething rage.

The organs become pulp in my hands. The stench of rot and mold fills the air, but it does nothing to rival the steaming red behind my eyes as I feel my fingers lock around a familiar, wriggling shape.

Got you.

I tear it from the mangled lung sacs and smash it into the blood-soaked stone, grinding its body to shreds of flesh and pulp. The monster's shell goes rigid in the absence of its soul, and the bones turn brittle and snap under my weight. Her black sockets are, finally, completely empty.

A heavy shiver rolls through my aching muscles. My body tilts as the red tide recedes, leaving a dull throb in its place. I collapse in the muck and grime and let the waves crash over my bones. The air is soaked, plastering the hair to my face, sticking the clothes to my skin. I pant and grimace as the heat of regeneration prickles through my injuries.

Zim.

My arms shake as I push myself up. The movements are sloppy and smeared. I drag my legs underneath me and stand with all the grace of a premature, newborn deer.

Zim.

Yards away, his body lies still. Something cold unfurls in my gut, and with every step, it grows.

Zim.

A wash of pink stains the rocks in all directions. It ripples around the toe of my boots, and the ice sinks deeper in my soul.

"Zim–"

My throat is torn raw. I stagger towards him and slip on the blood. The impact shoots bolts of static up my knees and wrists, but it's muffled by the cold, like snowfall.

"Zim?"

I crawl the rest of the way and feel the dread bloom through my gut.

Don't be, don't be, don't be–

A myriad of noises squeeze up my chest as I reach him. He's not moving. He's not moving–

"Hey," I croak, gently rolling him onto his back. The ice spreads.

Fuck.

His body is riddled with holes. Blood soaks his uniform, the fabric torn and frayed around each gaping wound. Claw marks rake down the back of his head. His eyes are shut, and in stark contrast to the mauling below his neck, his expression is oddly soft. As if he's only sleeping.

"H-hey," I say again, faltering. I nudge him weakly. The limpness of his frame does nothing but drive the fear deeper into my lungs. "W-we have to go…okay?" My gaze sweeps the empty cavern for help that doesn't exist. "I can - I can carry you out of here. Alright? Just…just stay with me."

I try not to look at the gore of his abdomen as I carefully slide one arm underneath his body. He makes no movement to acknowledge my presence. A lump swells in my throat, and it only gets worse when his arm slips from his waist and falls over my lap, limp as a doll. The weight is cold and heavy. Rigid.

Lifeless.

My efforts are quickly drained from my limbs and I freeze, one arm halfway beneath his shoulders and the other resting uselessly over his leg.

"Come on, Zim – don't…"

The words evaporate in the snow.

"D- Don't –"

Hot pools form along the rims of my eyes. My lips stretch over gritted teeth and I choke back a noise I've never made before.

" Zim –"

He doesn't answer, he doesn't move - I don't even think he's breathing. Panic cuts through my soul. My heart pounds.

"I-I don't know what to do." My fist bunches around his bloodied collar and I pull him towards me with an angry cry. "Tell me what to do!"

His head rolls to the side. The cavern swells with silence. It's hard to breathe.

I stare down at him and shiver as a wave of something crashes in, decimating my thoughts. The pain left in its wake turns every moment before this one into specks of dust. My hands shift and before I know what I'm doing, he's in my arms. I bury my face in the crook of his neck, holding him as tight as his broken body will allow, and the world dissipates until it's only me and him and nothing else, because how could there ever be anything else?

I unravel then. I fall apart in loose, tangled threads - soundless, debilitating sobs - and it hurts - fuck, it hurts.

"W-What am I supposed to do?" The question spills from wet lips; I repeat it neurotically between shallow gasps, knowing no one will answer, knowing no one can hear. The way each pathetic sound echoes around me serves as a bitter reminder. I'm alone.

I don't know how long I'm kneeling there in the blood. I only know that the throbbing pain seeps out with every wavering breath until I'm empty, and in its absence, the static returns. It trickles down my scalp and fills my veins with a numbing buzz.

I can't stay here.

My hands tighten around his frame.

He can't stay here.

Blood struggles to pump back into my legs. My knees shake - he feels heavier now. I swallow past the lump in my throat and take slow steps towards the tunnel. His feet dangle, boots thumping limply against my thigh. My chest clenches - but there's nothing left.

I carry him across the cavern's threshold, leaving the dim blue light behind. In my peripheral, I see the discarded backpack lying where I had thrown it, and it feels like years ago. I walk past it. My boots crunch over gravel and soil, and the silence is so loud. The muscles in my jaw bunch and tense. In the impenetrable isolation, delusion descends.

"I'm gonna pretend you're listening."

My voice falls like sand.

Delusional –

"–Because this - this sucks, Zim." My teeth grind. "I-It fucking sucks."

His face is nestled in the bloody folds of my shirt. I look away and focus on the dark length of the tunnel, on the words to break up the deafening silence.

"You really couldn't have picked a more inconvenient time, could you? It had to be now, when we're a hundred miles underground and I've got fuck all to help you with."

My arms shake.

"H-How am I supposed to get us out of here?" Anger warms my throat - embers stirred from agony. "What the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Delusional–

"And what the fuck are you doing dying before me? I-Is that supposed to be funny?"

I slip on a cluster of fungi and hit my knee on the rocks. Pain stabs between the joints. I snarl and yank myself back up, shifting his weight against my torso, nostrils flaring with the strained heat. My voice becomes acidic.

"Well it's not fucking funny, Zim - none of this shit is funny, and don't try to tell me I don't know what 'funny' is because I've fucking seen you laugh at my jokes in class before, dumbass–"

The buzz flickers in my bones, crawling up my scalp. I wonder if this is what it feels like to lose your mind. Warm and cold in all the wrong places, with a silence that screams through your eyes.

"But if you want to hear it, fine! You got me! Ha-fucking- ha – master of comedy, this guy–"

The path becomes uneven. I stagger to the left and grip him tighter. The muscles in my arms start to ache.

"Y-You're getting real fucking heavy, you know that?" My voice quivers, and I hate it. I hate it. "And what, I'm supposed to haul your ass all the way back up that stupid fucking hole we fell into? M-Maybe if we make it that far, I can ask one of those dead fucks to help me carry you out. I'm sure the one you stabbed in the face would be thrilled –"

I stumble down a small dip in the path and whip my head up, chest heaving. My vision sharpens and blurs with the rush of blood in my ears, but after a moment, I recognize it. The bottom of the mine shaft.

The familiarity brings no relief. I push the air through clenched teeth and growl at the absurdity of it all as my brain turns to mush sloshing around my skull. I feel the panic rising again and it only makes me angrier.

"This is stupid," I seethe. "All of this is so. Fucking. Stupid –"

I almost jump out of my skin when something tugs my sleeve. My eyes snap down to see his hand weakly grabbing my coat. My stomach drops.

"Zim?!"

One eye opens to a thin crescent. The red glow sends thunder through my veins.

"Oh my god," I gasp. "Holy shit. Holy fucking shit–"

His claws flex, digging into the fabric as if to pull me closer. "D-Dib…"

The ache vanishes from my arms. I lift him, curling his body into mine, feeling the cool skin of his cheek pressed against my own.

"I-It's okay," I stammer. "It's okay - you're okay. I've got you."

He moans against my neck. "...Shut… up …"

A strangled, deranged laugh bursts from my chest and my eyes well with tears. "Y-Yeah? Have you been waiting to say that this whole time?"

His eye closes and he gives the briefest nod.

"Sorry, space boy." I tilt my chin and rest my forehead on his. "Not gonna happen."

An airy groan passes his lips. He grimaces.

"...I hate you."

I grin so hard, my face hurts.

"Don't worry." A sting runs up the bridge of my nose. "The feeling's mutual."

He mutters something else, but it's too quiet for me to hear. I raise my head and search the surrounding tunnel with renewed focus. It's fairly obvious we can't climb up - he couldn't even do it with his PAK legs – but as I turn on my heels to gather my bearings, I spot it. The tunnel on the right. The one we didn't take.

"You said the asylum is connected to the mines, right?"

He nods again - but it's weaker. I try to ignore the panic it brings.

"Stay with me, okay?"

He winces as I reposition his body, and his fingers slip down my coat. My chest steels over with resolve.

"I'm gonna get you out of here."

I ramble on about anything and everything I can think of as I carry him through the winding space. Sometimes he hums, but most of the time, his only sign of life is a shallow breath or a twitch of his hand. By the time we reach the end, he's stopped responding altogether.

Sweat drenches us both. My arms tremble with exhaustion and my spine is screaming bloody murder. The tunnel has narrowed considerably, forcing me to slouch until there is only room to crawl. The path juts upwards to a pile of rocks and compressed dirt.

Fuck.

"Well," I pant, struggling to kneel down without him slipping, "good news is you were right. But…I'm sure you knew that already."

As expected, he says and does nothing. I swallow past the growing cold and clear my throat.

"Bad news is, I'm gonna have to set you down here for a minute while I…I don't know, actually, but I'll figure it out."

He makes no protest as I gently lower him to the ground. My forearms burn like hell. To prevent myself from spiraling again, I try not to look at him too hard, but his lack of response isn't helping the urge to shake him until he wakes back up.

I grit my teeth and crawl over him to assess the blockage. If the asylum was demolished, it'd make sense for the path to end in rubble. But how far does it go?

"...I guess there's really only one option," I mutter.

I start pulling stones from the slope of dirt, wrenching them free, and rolling them to the side. The claustrophobia gets worse as I dig. My head scrapes the ceiling, knees pressing hard against the rock, skin peeling from my fingers, nails chipping - but there's no other way. Rivers of sweat pour down my neck; my breath fills with thin clouds of silt. I cough, wiping my eyes, smearing the grime, digging further. We're close. We have to be close.

I claw until my hands are slick with blood; until there's a hole wide enough to wriggle my shoulders through. My vision is completely obscured by the dirt. I clench my eyes shut and feel the tiny grains scraping beneath my lids. I fight the mounting dread as the earth presses in on all sides.

Keep going–

Don't stop–

We have to be close–

The sediment grits between my teeth, coating my tongue. I can't feel my hands anymore other than to move them in the same desperate, grueling motion. The debris chokes my lungs and the coughs that follow only make it worse. I'm suffocating, trapped - the jagged stones squeeze my frame, ripping my coat, cutting my skin. I bear down and drag my fingers through the rubble.

Come on, come on–

A warbled cry escapes me when my knuckles scrape wood. I twist my body up the tight passage and frantically smash my fists against the board. Splinters lodge between my fingers - I hit it harder. The sound of wood cracking sends a wave of relief pouring through my bones, and after wrenching free from the surrounding rocks, my hand shoots into empty air above. I pull myself out of the earth through a small hatch in the ground and collapse in a heap. Heavy, grated coughs whip from my lungs. I choke and spit the dirt from my mouth. My eyes are fucked, but I wipe them anyway until the haze of pink returns. It's splotchy and pixelated, but it's enough to see the concrete beneath my hands and the debris ahead - the basement of the asylum.

I practically sob in relief and delirium. We did it. We fucking did it. Exertion shakes my limbs and I want nothing more than to lie here for the next ten hours, but we're still not home. He's still…

I clench my jaw. There's no time to think or panic or wallow. I drag myself up from the concrete and focus on crawling back down the passage. The earth hugs my shoulders and hips as I worm my way to the bottom.

"Zim," I choke, spitting out a wad of clay. "I got through!" My palms hit the wet stone. He's lying where I left him.

Don't think about it–

I grab his shoulders and tug him towards the passage.

"Y-You're gonna hate this," I start, "but it's the only way up."

His body drags over the dirt in silence. I grimace and focus on the task at hand. Going feet-first, I slowly work backward up the hole. My heart skips and stops every time his body catches on the rocks. I try to be as gentle as possible - but fuck, there's not much I can do.

I kick my heels into the hatch and curse under my breath at the effort it takes to pull him through the last couple of feet, but then we're up and out, falling over onto the concrete. I quickly scoop him from the floor and stand on legs that really don't want to be standing anymore, but I bite it down. We're too close.

I don't know how long it takes to weave our way through the maze of rubble. Every time I stop and catch my breath, the weight of his limp body fills my chest with something horrible, and I have to push myself to keep going. I don't even have the energy to talk to him anymore. I'm not sure if he's happy about that or not.

We make it up the stairs, past piles of broken beams and slanted drywall, and then I see it - the sunrise. I scramble out from the wreckage. My boots hit the grass - grass - something green, something living. The first rays of sunlight bathe the sky in a wash of pink and orange. The world looks soft and new. What little tears are left drip from the corners of my eyes, and I hug him close to my chest.

"I know you can't see it," I whisper, "and I know you think it's stupid, but it's really pretty, Zim."

I take a small, shaky breath and stagger towards the treeline. The morning air is crisp and light - full of dewdrops and the smell of hyacinths and pine. The lush green sweeps under my boots. Birds flutter between the trees, calling to one another. Has it always looked like this?

The Voot comes into view, tucked carefully between the thick brush. It must sense Zim's proximity; the hatch clicks and begins to open with a soft curl of steam. My footsteps echo across the metal ramp and the familiar scent of the ship fills my lungs. The control panel lights up and the Voot hums to life.

I set him down in the passenger seat and gently wipe the dirt from his face as best as I can. We're both caked in mud and gore. He's gonna be pissed when he wakes up and sees the mess in his ship.

I secure the seat belt over his torso with trembling fingers. God, I'm so tired. I never knew anyone could be this tired.

I slump into the driver's seat as exhaustion crashes down on my head. I don't know much about the Voot - because someone never wants to teach me - but I've seen him press this button enough times to know where it goes. I let my fist fall on it, and the ship rumbles in response, lifting slowly from the forest floor. The skyline fills the windshield with a full view of the sunrise.

"We did it, Zim." Something wet trails down my cheeks. My voice is so small. "We made it."

He doesn't answer.