Eyes of Blight
  Turbuggy  

”Get ready for re-entry!”

Despite Zim’s insistence that he was perfectly fine, the little IRKEN had to brace himself as the ship pierced through the Earth’s atmosphere. He had flown to and from this wretched planet more times than he could count, but he didn’t recall the landing process being quite so… rough. He gave a pitiful groan as he felt his spooch lurch, and quickly squeezed his eyes shut. His tiny claws clasped the seat with a shaking grip, and he had to focus all of his willpower into keeping down all of that bland sugar water the human had been insisting he drink.

“Hey, Zim, we’re here! Can you open up the top of your— …Zim?” Dib turned around in his seat, looking back at his alien companion, “Hey, you’re not looking so good there, Bud.”

Slowly, the IRKEN cracked open one magenta eye, swallowing hard as he tested his vision. The moment that light filled his senses, Zim could feel his guts rolling inside of him, and he shut his eye back up tight. His face had lost most of the colour he had regained over the course of their trip, and his antennae were pinned back, flush to the back of his head.

Pressing a hand against his middle, Zim did his best to divert some of his focus towards opening the Voot hangar— accessed through the hidden hatch built into the roof of his base. Normally, controlling this remotely was no more difficult than lifting a finger, mental commands translated into data through his PAK. Now, however, his thoughts were rather jumbled, most of them screaming some form of “don’t throw up”. Thankfully, with the aid of the Spittle Runner’s capable cloaking, Dib was safe to idle above the strange little green house until Zim was able to open the hatch.

“Alright, easy, Space-boy. I’m landing now.”

“Sssslowlyy…” Zim hissed out through gritted teeth.

Handling the controls as lightly as he possibly could, Dib lowered Tak’s ship down into the hangar, careful not to collide with the small Voot Cruiser already stationed inside. The craft touched down, and the final jerk of the hull gained another groan of discomfort from Zim. Wind blew cool against the IRKEN’s sweat-peppered face, creeping into the ship’s cabin as the windscreen slid back. He took in a few shallow breaths, attempting to calm his senses. Dib stepped out onto solid ground, his stiff joints popping as he was finally able to fully stretch his body. A heavy sigh of relief followed him dropping his arms back down from over his head, and he turned to look once more at the ship he had spent nearly 14 weeks inside of. It really had been a long ride, hadn’t it?

Zim had begun to move, shakily manoeuvring himself around the ship’s seats, so that he, too, may step out into the base. His tiny hands grasped at anything they could find along the way, in a desperate attempt to steady himself. The moment he exited the ship, and before Dib had the chance to react, the IRKEN lost his balance and collapsed onto the floor. His chest heaved as he wheezed, antennae laid back flat against his head once more. Dib was at his side in an instant, hands moving to help him up onto his knees.

“Shit! Are you okay?” he was immediately looking the alien over, “Here, let me help y—“

“Zim does n… not NEED your assis-stance!” came the sharp interruption, as the IRKEN tried once more to stand on his feet. Thankfully, Dib was there to catch him as his weak knees buckled. Zim groaned, claws clutching the fabric of the human’s black trench coat.

“Easy…” Dib carefully positioned his hands under the smaller’s arms, lifting him up to rest against his chest. He knew that Zim’s pride was important to him, but he also knew that he wasn’t going to have much choice in whether or not to put it aside. Not this time. Zim was far from recovered, and Dib was well aware that the little guy was going to need some outside help. Outside help that Dib was more than willing to provide. “Just think of it as… uh… service? I guess? Yeah. I’m serving you. Y’know, carrying you and stuff. Because you’re so great?”

Alright, maybe he was laying it on a little thick.

Zim said nothing in reply, his weary head resting against the human’s shoulder. Magenta eyes fluttered shut, as the base’s roof began to seal itself overhead.

“Do you have anything like, I dunno, a bedroom? Or something?”

Dib’s eyes scanned the room, sweeping over the strange wall decorations and the many large wires that ran this way and that. Though Dib had been in the alien’s base many times before, stepping down into its main level held a completely different feeling today. He wasn’t here to spy or to tamper. He hadn’t had to sneak in. A place so familiar to him suddenly seemed so foreign, as if he were lost in his own home.

“Zim? C’mon, Buddy, you need to answer me.” the human insisted, shrugging the shoulder on which the alien’s head rested. He reached a hand up to fiddle with one of the IRKEN’s antennae, “You can sleep once we set you up somewhere.”

Dib really didn’t want to disturb Zim— not while he was settled in so silently against him— but he knew he had to. He needed to find a comfortable place to set the little guy up to rest, and it just didn’t feel right to make him spend the rest of his recovery on his couch. After all, he had spent most of this entire ordeal either curled in the back of a moving Spittle Runner, or shivering in the human’s arms. He deserved a more accommodating setup while he regained his strength.

“Zim?”

“Mhm…”

A careful hand was run back over sleek black antennae, “Where can I set you up, huh?”

Zim shifted a little, making small chittering sounds as he reached up to rub at his face. He grumbled, tired magenta eyes cracking open to look up at the human— his old nemesis. If he wasn’t so exhausted, he may have felt more shame in himself for allowing the boy to carry him like a SMEET. For now, however, it sounded far better than walking.

There was a pause, as Zim seemed to engage in an internal debate. His brows furrowed, and he glanced towards the faux-kitchen, where he knew multiple secret hatches were placed. Dib watched him closely, his own eyes following the alien’s gaze. He had known Zim long enough to have caught on too many of his mannerisms, and he knew very well that a risk was being calculated. Most likely, whether or not he wanted to trust Dib to enter the lower levels of his fortified lair.

“...Sector 27.” Zim finally spoke, though he kept his eyes averted, “You may take Zim to… Sector 27.”

“27. Got it.”

Dib didn’t dare to waste a second longer, turning on his heel to head into the next room. Another thing he had learned after years of spying on Zim, was where quite a lot of his base’s secret entrances were. There had been a time in his life where he could have used a plethora of them, himself. Now, however, after more than one growth spurt, he was much too tall for the more compact crawlspaces. With this in mind, the human went straight towards the refrigerator, opening it up to reveal an elevator cab. He ducked his head down and stepped inside— a tight squeeze, but manageable. It was moments like this that made Dib glad he wasn’t claustrophobic.

“Okay, uh… let’s see. How do you usually do this? I don’t see any buttons here…”

“Computer!” Zim interrupted, “T… Take me to… S-Sector 27.”

“Uhh… are you sure?” came a disembodied reply, “With the human?”

“You QUESTION your MASTER?! TAKE—“ a grimace, and a pained grumble, “Take meeee… CompuTER!”

“Okay, then…”

No more than a split second later, the elevator began to move, heading down into the bowels of the twisted underground base. Dib couldn’t help but wonder what might be hidden in Sector 27. Why had the computer hesitated like that? It had been given a direct order! Was there something really special down there? Something super secret? Knowing Zim, it could be just about anything. Though, Dib couldn’t imagine why the IRKEN would want to be taken there if it really was something wild…

Wandering thoughts were soon cut short by the soft hiss of elevator doors. The duo was presented with a small, mostly empty, darkened room, with only one piece of furniture set up in the very middle. Its walls were curved into a perfect cylinder, heavy wires mingling into a tangled web to create its ceiling. The only illumination inside the space was a single light strip built into the outer edges of the floor. It reached around the circumference of the room, casting light up onto the barren maroon walls.

The object set in the centre was a small, perfectly circular bed. Its frame was comprised of a purple coloured metal, and its surface was covered in plush pink bedding and pillows. That is, aside from a single white blanket that stood out garishly— a heating blanket Zim had purchased during his time on Earth.

“Whoa…” Dib breathed, “I’ve never seen this place before.”

“That is because no one has.”

Human brows furrowed, “Wait, what do you mean no one? Not even your little robot?”

“No.”

Sector 27 was a relatively new addition to the underground base. It was a project completed out of necessity, out of desperation. If Zim had his way, this room would never have existed. There would never have been a need for it. IRKEN did not require sleep! What did he need a bed for, let alone an entire room dedicated to one?

There were many things about himself that Zim worked tirelessly to keep under wraps, but his defective PAK was the highest on the list. The machine that had been drilled into the alien’s very spine had been corrupt from the beginning. Whether it had been a single line of warped code, or something far greater, Zim didn’t know. All he had ever known was that things hadn’t been so difficult as a SMEET. Sure, the little guy may have been a tad more… destructive than the others, but when it came to functionality, he wasn’t unlike his peers. His PAK did its job, kept his body running and absorbed each and every new piece of information it was given at optimal speeds. However, the older Zim got, the more that small differences began to peek through. His memories didn’t always seem to encode, and would escape him even mere moments after events would occur. His back ached, and he found himself growing weary after simple rounds of training. It wasn’t until a few years into the Academy that he experienced his first complete PAK overheat.

It seemed that the longer Zim was alive, the worse these symptoms became. The worse the corruption became. During his nine-year stay on the little blue planet, the IRKEN had grown less and less able to go without rest. He knew he should never have issues with lethargy, knew he should never have the need to sleep, knew his PAK should be giving him all the energy his body would ever need, and yet, Zim often found himself struggling to keep his eyes open after only a few days time. Waking up on the floor of his labs after passing out from exhaustion had become a troubling norm that wore on Zim and his carefully-built facade of functionality. Finally, the alien had broken down, and created himself a safe room in which he could comfortably rest. It was incredibly deep under the base— the deepest sector, in fact— and was heated separately from the rest of the facility, so that it may be adjusted to suit his needs. It was usually kept comfortably warm, in order to soothe the smaller’s nerves. The light strip gave off only a soft glow, so that the room remained dim, and the walls were equipped with higher soundproofing than any others in the base, to help with sensory desensitization. Sector 27 had been made entirely for Zim’s own comfort, and was a secret he kept even from GIR, in an attempt to shield his pride. No one but Zim had ever stepped foot into this room. Ever.

Dib, though perplexed by the alien’s reply, stepped out of the lift and made his way over to the circular bed. He eased his smaller companion down onto its soft, inviting surface, before moving to stand straight once more. He was stopped short by a tiny clawed hand still clinging desperately to his coat. Dib reached one of his own hands up, trying to unhook the sharp points from the fabric. Zim just held tighter.

“Zim, c’mon…” he mumbled, brows furrowing as he tried to free himself. His efforts were only met with frustrated alien chittering, and Zim tugging on his trench coat.

“S-Stupid… human.” the IRKEN wheezed, his chest beginning to heave as his weakened body grew wearier. Why did Dib have to make everything so difficult?! Zim’s pride had taken enough of a beating as it was, he didn’t want to have to spell it out for him. The short time he had spent away from the boy’s body heat already had him shivering, “Zim is… c-cold!”

“Huh? Oh! Here.” Dib grabbed onto the white blanket, pulling it up so that he may reach the heat settings, and turned it on. “There we go. That better?”

Zim couldn’t even muster the energy to get angry. His tiny fist shook with effort as he tried to keep his hold on the human’s coat. A small, pitiful whine escaped him, and he gave another, weaker tug.

“Okay, okay, Zim, just… take it easy!” the boy’s face contorted with concern as he crouched down to be level with the bed, “You’re overworking yourself…”

The moment that Dib had lowered himself, Zim reached both hands out, grabbing onto either side of his trench coat. He pulled desperately until the human hunched over, before pressing his forehead against Dib’s chest. The little guy gave a small chirp, shivering against his nemesis-turned-savior. Careful hands reached down to pet sleek antennae, before moving to shift the blankets back. He should have realized sooner. He wished he had realized sooner. Zim’s agitation seemed to completely disappear as Dib kicked his shoes off, and scooted onto the circular bed.

“I’m sorry, Buddy…” he muttered, “I’m a stupid human, remember?”

“Mhm…”

Dib pulled the blankets up over the two of them, making sure to tuck them comfortably around Zim’s shivering frame. The little alien shuffled close, pressing up against the warmth of the other.

“Pull your legs in.” Zim spoke, peering down at the end of the bed, where Dib’s socked feet dangled over the side.

Once he was obeyed, and both of their bodies were free from harm, Zim reached up to a small panel at the “head” of the bed’s frame, which was decorated with a large dial, and a few glowing buttons. After pressing one, a dome began to rise from both sides of the circular metal frame, two semi-circles that met at the top, closing the two inside. A small turn of the dial caused soft light to cut through the new pitch black, the entire undersides of the dome giving off a glow. There wasn’t an overly large amount of room to move around in the small pod, and all sound was blocked by further soundproofing. All was unnaturally quiet in the chamber, causing minute sounds to seem amplified. Zim let a small breath escape him as he pulled his arm back under the blankets, his entire body seeming to ease.

Dib had to bend his knees to fit entirely inside the pod, and he couldn’t help but feel slightly startled by the transformation. Sure, he had aided Zim, but would that keep him from activating some kind of trap? Seeing the IRKEN soothed, however, quieted these anxieties. Despite the multitude of questions that ran through his head, Dib remained silent, unable to bring himself to shatter the serenity. Instead, he simply wrapped his arms around his extraterrestrial companion, pulling him in close. As Zim pressed against him, tiny clawed hands reached to grip the fabric of his shirt, the human stroked a hand over one of his sleek black antennae. It wasn’t long until the only sounds inside the pod were the soft breaths of sleep.

Eyes squeezed shut and nose scrunched, consciousness slowly flickering to life. The boy could feel a presence, a body still pressed close to his own. It took him a moment to fully rouse, to collect himself and allow his memories to return. He tried to stretch his legs, only for his feet to meet the cool surface of the dome. Sounds could be heard in the silence, small utterances, thoughts that seemed to waver between spoken and not. Slowly, Dib cracked one eye open, suddenly very much aware of his crooked glasses, and glanced down at his bed-mate. It was Zim from who the noises had come, his small body twitching, face contorted in fitful sleep. Perhaps a nightmare?

“No… my…” his words came out broken, mumbled, as if his mouth fought against his attempts at speech, “My… Tall… est…”

Frowning, Dib shifted, propping himself up onto his elbow and fixing his glasses atop his nose. The boy had always been a firm believer in superstition, sometimes to a fault, and he couldn’t help but hesitate at the thought of waking the IRKEN. “Never wake someone up from a nightmare”, he had heard people warn. Or maybe it was “never wake someone up from sleepwalking”...?

“Please… Tallest… Zim c-can…”

Wait, yeah, it was definitely sleepwalking.

“N-No! No… no!”

“Zim? H-Hey, it’s time to wake up now, Buddy!” Dib placed a careful hand onto the alien’s shoulder, shaking him slightly in an attempt to wake him, “C’mon, Zim! You’re having a nightmare!”

It took a few nudges, but Zim suddenly shot up with a shout, striking his head against the closed dome. He yelped, hunching slightly as his hands shot up to press over his antennae. In the dim glow, Dib could see that his frightened magenta eyes were wide open, staring off as if in a trance. His cheeks were damp.

“Zim…?” the boy tested, receiving no reply, “It’s okay. It was just a dream. See? Look at me…”

The alien flinched back as a hand was waved in his line of vision. Eyes flicked towards the human, staring, unblinking. Zim’s thoughts raced, his PAK struggling to communicate with his organic brain. Dreams, memories, was there a difference? What had really happened? Had he ever been sick at all?

“That’s it, see? It’s me. It’s Dib!”

Dib. Yes, that’s right. They had just returned to Earth, hadn’t they? He had felt so sick, had been sure that he was dying. What had happened? Why was he alive? He remembered Captain’s Logs, and sugar water, and something about a planet not owned by the Empire. But they were back now. Back in the base.

“S… Sector 27.” he spoke aloud, in a statement, more so than a question.

“Yeah! Sector 27! We’re in your bed-thingy, remember?” Dib confirmed, hoping to aid in his companion’s recollection.

“Sanctuary Pod.”

“Huh? Oh! Yeah, that’s right. Your Sanctuary Pod.” carefully, the boy reached out and took one of the IRKEN’s hands, lowering it away from his sensitive antenna, “Let’s take some deep breaths, okay? You’re safe. There we go…”

After relocating both of the alien’s small clawed hands, Dib gently ran his thumbs over his companion’s dampened cheeks. He had never witnessed Zim cry in his life. In fact, for the longest time, he didn’t even believe him capable of it. Now, as a few more stray drops escaped with a blink, his error was made clear. Dib felt a pang in his chest at the sight. Despite witnessing more than one display of feeling from the alien, Zim’s range of emotion had always been a subject of question for Dib. He knew the little guy felt far more than he was supposed to, but he had never seen anything quite like this. The mighty Invader Zim reduced to tears by his own subconscious. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was a regular occurrence, wonder just how much he still didn’t know about his intergalactic adversary.

The moment that Dib wiped the wetness from his skin, Zim became acutely aware of his sorry state. He quickly began to rub at his eyes with the backs of his wrists, sniffling pitifully. Crying in front of the enemy! It was no wonder his Tallest never took him seriously as an invader! What a disgrace.

“How— How much h-have you seen?”

“Not much,” Dib lied, “I just heard you mumbling, and figured you were having a bad dream.” best to allow the little guy to hold onto what dignity he had left.

“Well… Y-You were wrong! Zim does not have… ‘bad dreams’!”

Dealing with Zim for as long as he had, Dib was expecting this type of answer. “Alright, well, I know IRKEN don’t need sleep, but humans do, and this human is still pretty tired. I’m gonna, y’know, get back to it.” the boy yawned, tucking an arm under one of the soft pink pillows, “G’night, Zim.”

Magenta eyes watched as the boy settled in, seemed to drift off. Sleek antennae twitched, and Zim frowned. His pride was wounded, yet he couldn’t help but feel his nerves ease, soothed by the soft breaths that permeated the silence. Slowly, the alien, too, settled back down, scooting close to Dib and pressing his small body against him once more, soaking up the warmth. It wasn’t long before he had followed the lead, falling back into slumber, only two small antennae tips peeking out from under the blankets.