Eyes of Blight
  Turbuggy  

Curse this creaking door. No matter how quietly Dib attempted to enter his home, its hinges proudly announced his presence. He had left Zim’s base in relatively high spirits, promising that he would return with some snacks for the recovering IRKEN, under the condition that he would stay in bed and rest until he got back. In the meantime, he really needed to head home for a while. Take a shower, change his clothing, eat something other than alien fruit, tell his family he wasn’t dead. Just a few errands.

The feeling of dread began the moment he saw the first “missing” poster. Dib could have sworn that his stomach had sunk so low, it may as well have been sitting on the pavement in front of him. He should have known that taking off to some unknown planet would prove to be an alarmingly long journey, even with an alien spacecraft. He should have known better than to leave without telling anyone, that his family would worry. He should have known a lot of things, should have done a lot of things, but he hadn’t, and it was too late now. The human’s desperation had clouded his judgement, and he knew he would pay for it the moment he entered the Membrane household. By the time he reached the front steps, he had torn down five flyers, crumpling them up in his hands, obscuring his own image.

“Yes, I know that it has been fourteen weeks! I don’t care! I expect you to continue your search for my son!” Dib peered into the kitchen, where his father stood, shouting angrily into the telephone. “What do you mean you have no more leads?! Find some!”

“Uh… Dad?”

The Professor turned, his gaze falling upon his missing son. Dib was dishevelled, dirty. It really did look like he had been gone 14 weeks. A voice still spoke over the telephone as it clattered to the floor, even after its back popped off and slid under the table. Firm hands gripped the young man’s shoulders.

“Dib, my boy!” Membrane exclaimed, “I just knew you would come home!”

“Heh… Yeah, I—”

“They told me too much time had passed! That it was too late! Look at us now, Son! A family again!” gloves moved to grasp either side of Dib’s face, squishing his cheeks and knocking his glasses askew.

“Dad, listen, I wasn’t—”

“This calls for a celebration!” the Professor wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, causing him to stumble, “Gaz! Come quickly! Your poor missing brother has been found!”

Dib felt absolutely terrible. All this time, his father had been searching for him, believing him to be lost, kidnapped, or dead. His excitement only caused a sick, sinking feeling in Dib’s gut, and he turned his gaze down towards the floor.

“Tell me, Son,” Membrane addressed him once more, “where have you been this whole time?”

There it was again— that dread, “Well, see, Zim was—”

“Zim?” his father looked down at him, his mirthful expression slowly morphing into a frown, “You mean to tell me that you ran off for fourteen weeks on another of your paranormal escapades?!”

“No! I mean, kinda? But—”

“Do you understand what lengths we have gone to in order to find you? I was lead to believe that my son had been taken from me, tossed into the merciless hands of danger!” the Professor had removed his arm from the boy’s shoulders, to instead stand in front of him. Dib felt as though his father towered over him now, much like he had when he was a child.

“Dad, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it!” came the booming response, louder than any tone Dib had ever heard come from the man, “Twenty-one years. Twenty-one years I have tolerated your wild obsessions, Dib, but no more! All I have ever wanted was for you to discover the importance of REAL SCIENCE, but instead you chose to chase after hoaxes and folktales! This is not what I created you to be!”

“C… Created me?”

“It is time for you to move on, Dib! I have humoured you for the final time!” the man turned his back to his son, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Dad, I— I’m sorry! I would have told you, but I didn’t have a lot of time! Zim was going to—”

“ENOUGH! Pack your things! Go!”

Dib stood for a long moment in the middle of the kitchen, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He had so many things he wanted to say, so many questions he wanted to ask, but he knew it would get him nowhere. His father had never allowed him a word, never gave him the time of day, and nothing was going to change now. Especially not now. Without a voice, he turned, trudging down the hallway and up the stairs. He swiped his sleeve over his eyes as he passed his sister’s room, where Gaz stood in the doorway, leaning on the frame.

“Maybe Dad will let me turn your room into a gaming loft.”

One small rolling suitcase, and his old high school backpack now held every item Dib had to his name. He had stuffed as many of his belongings into the bags as he could fit, most of which were necessities. Clothing, toiletries, the like. He had made sure to take his laptop, as it held a large portion of the information he had gathered over the years, as well as his digital camera and cell phone, though he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to use them. He had no internet access now, and he was sure his cell service had been cut off weeks ago, seeing as he hadn’t been around to pay the bill. He didn’t even want to think about his job.

Among the more personal items he had managed to cram into his luggage, was a small keychain— a simplistic devil character made out of wrapped yarn, adorned with wings and horns made of black felt, along with a painted smirk. Gaz had insisted he take it with him, claiming it had been the “best birthday gift he had ever managed to get her”. Dib wasn’t sure if it was meant to be a keepsake, or if she simply wanted to get rid of the thing. He chose to believe it was the former.

With nowhere else to go, the newly-homeless paranormal investigator headed towards the only place he knew he was— somewhat— welcome; back to Zim’s secret base. He would have to apologise for his lack of promised snacks, make it up to him some other way while he figured out where to go from here. The boy’s entire life had done a complete 180 in what felt like the blink of an eye. He had gone from living a relatively normal 21-year-old life, alien aside, to being homeless, jobless, and unsure of where he stood with Zim. Were they still enemies, after all of this? As much as he desperately craved to have some semblance of normality back in his life, Dib wasn’t sure if he wanted to be anymore. Not after seeing him so vulnerable. The boy had lost everything in order to save that stupid alien’s life. Zim was all he had left, now.

Heart beating fast against the glowing pink crystal that hung around his neck, Dib made the laborious climb up that one simple step. He stood for a moment, purple door glaring inches from his face. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say, how he was going to carry himself. Should he tell him what had happened right away, or wait? Should he tell him at all? It wasn’t Zim’s problem, after all, even if this entire fiasco did originate with him. He hadn’t purposefully gotten himself sick, and he hadn’t asked for Dib’s help. The boy was on his own, it seemed. No need to add any extra pressure to the IRKEN after everything he had already gone through. After allowing himself a heavy sigh, Dib reached out and turned the knob.

“—my Tallest! Th-There must be s… something that Zim can do! A-Anything! I must… prOVE my worth as an Inv-vader!” the moment the door swung open, human eyes were met with the tiny form of an alien in distress, unsteady on his feet as he pleaded with the frustrated faces of his leaders, their very expressions seeming to loom over him on his television screen.

“What part of ‘forget this frequency’ did you not understand, Zim?” Red emphasised, leaning forward in his chair.

“But I… I survived! Zim h… has beaten the odds, and overcome an inc-curable illness! Aren’t you proud of me?”

“NO!” came the shouted reply, the word blurting in unison from both Tallest’s mouths without a second thought. Zim visibly jumped at the sound, his weakened knees buckling under him, and sending him into a heap on the floor.

“WHY can’t you just DIE ALREADY?!” the red Tallest shrieked, two clawed hands reaching up to yank on his antennae, “No matter what we do to get rid of you, it never seems to WORK! You just KEEP. COMING. BACK! Has that been your plan all along, Zim? To TORTURE US?!”

“N… No, my—“

“STOP! JUST STOP TALKING!”

“You’re a curse!” Purple added in, pointing a single claw towards the screen, “You’ve gotta be! Is this because we stole snacks from the rations back in the Academy?! Were you sent to punish us? What do we have to do to get you to go away? Huh? Huh?!”

“Just accept it, Zim! Accept that you are, and always have been, USELESS to the Empire! Have you really never noticed how everything you do seems to end up going horribly awry?” Red’s claws were now tightly gripping the arms of his chair, “You’re responsible for the deaths of two of the previous Tallest! If it wasn’t for you, Miyuki would still be here. Spork would still be here! Do you understand that, Zim?”

“I… I-I…”

“Well, I, for one, am not going to sit back and wait until you eventually get ME killed, too!”

The look of utter despair on his once-enemy’s face caused a pang of empathy to tear across Dib’s chest. He felt his throat tighten, and a flame begin to burn in his gut. With fists clenched, and brow furrowed, the boy stepped forward, leaving his bags behind.

“HEY!” he interrupted with a shout, easily pushing his way into the frame. Zim’s head shot upwards immediately, wide eyes watching the human in mortification, “You know what? That’s enough! I’ve listened to you jerks insult and push Zim around for years, but you’ve gone way too far this time!”

“D— Dib-thing—!” Zim squeaked, though his voice was lost in the heat of the boy’s adrenaline.

“You know, the entire time he’s been here, Zim hasn’t stopped trying to take over this planet? To please you? I mean like, at all! No matter how many times he’s had to try, he just… does! He’s been nothing but loyal, and he’s worked hard! What do you two do? Sit around all day on your fancy ship and eat junk food? You’re nothing but a pair of lazy cowards!”

Both pairs of royal eyes narrowed, their dagger gazes now fixed on the face of the human. Very few had ever dared to speak to a Tallest in such a fashion and lived to tell the tale. Despite their obvious displeasure, however, Dib’s resolve didn’t falter.

“Does loyalty count for nothing? Is all of the destruction he has caused here meaningless to you? Can’t you see a soldier willing to risk it all standing right in front of you?! You two— no, your entire EMPIRE— doesn’t deserve Zim! Especially not after everything you’ve done to him!”

Not a word from either Tallest.

“And… and if you want Zim dead, you’ll have to answer to ME!”

Dib’s chest heaved, hard brown eyes sending glared daggers back from where they came. His fists had tightened so much that he could feel his nails digging into his palms as his senses began to return after the numbness of his high. Zim was still knelt on the ground, holding himself up with shaking arms. Wide, horrified magenta eyes jumped from the faces of his leaders, to Dib, and back. His thoughts were spinning, a loud mechanical whirring sound beginning to emanate from the device on his back.

“Where did you get that?” Red’s calm, suspicious, near-hiss broke the boy’s resolution completely. His tight expression shattered into one of utter confusion, as he was taken aback by the lack of counter-threats. Dib was feeling so suddenly exposed, his unpreparedness now obvious to him.

“Huh? Get what—“

“That crystal.” the reply was nearly immediate, harder in tone, “Where did you get it?”

“Oh, uh…” Dib looked down at the Shaman’s gift, lifting it outwards so that he may get a better view, “Some blue-eyed alien gave it to me. Why?”

“Blue eyes…” whispered, barely audible. Red looked warily to Purple, who shared his expression of… was that uneasiness? Fear? After one last quick glance back at the screen, the crimson-clad royal leaned forwards, “Don’t call us again,” and cut the transmission.

Both human and alien gawked at the television, its face now gone dark, good only to toss their own likenesses back at them. Neither could seem to comprehend what had happened, why things had ended so abruptly. A far more hostile reaction had been expected by Dib, and yet he had gotten nothing close. Zim had still been reeling from Dib’s sudden stand, that it took him a moment to even realise that the Tallest had gone.

Slowly, the boy turned, blinking the last of his confusion away as his eyes landed on his alien companion, crumpled where he had fallen. He knelt beside him, placing a hand on the smaller’s back, just above his life support device.

“Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so— jeez, your PAK is hot!” Dib jerked his hand away as his skin brushed against the metal, “Is that normal?!”

“Why…” Zim croaked, the word coming out strained and broken. Magenta eyes, turned downwards, began to grow glassy. In one swift movement, the alien raised his tiny hands to begin clawing at the boy, pushing him back and smacking open palms against any part of him that he could reach, “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!”

“Wh— HEY! Zim, stop—!” Dib’s own hands shot up in defence, attempting to shield himself from the IRKEN’s wrath, “What did I do?!”

“THEY WILL NEVER TAKE ZIM BACK NOW! You— YOU HAVE RUINED EVERYTHING!” the alien’s voice was a shriek, a wail, despondent and infuriated and hopeless.

“Zim! They abandoned you!” the human shouted back, trying to be heard over the cries, “I was trying to protect you!”

“YOU DO NOT CARE ABOUT ZIM! Y-YOU DO NOT PROTECT ZIM!”

“Really?! Then what do you call TAKING OFF on a FOURTEEN-WEEK TRIP and losing both my HOME and my JOB in order to SAVE YOUR LIFE?!”

“You— YYYYOU! You know NOTHING! Zim has worked so HARD to be an INVADER! I— my Tallest! They were supposed to— THEY WERE SUPPOSED TO SEE! I-I was going to PROVE…” Zim had stood himself up once more, uneasier now than he had previously been. The strange mechanical whine had grown louder, and a soft trail of smoke had begun to rise from the alien’s PAK, “P… PROVE that Zim is not… def… ect…”

This time, Dib was there to catch him when he fell.

“Okay, o-okay, you’re alright, take it easy…” carefully, Dib ran a hand back over the alien’s antennae, hoping to soothe him somehow. He could feel the heat radiating from the little metal oval on Zim’s back, and it gave him a sickening feeling. There was no way it wasn’t burning him, “Zim, tell me what to do about your PAK!”

“D… Do not t-touch!” came a croaked reply, “Burn… w-will burn…!”

“What’s happening?!”

Zim hid his face, small clawed hands now moving to grip the boy’s coat. His back arched inward, as if he were trying to escape the PAK’s touch. What colour he had regained had drained once more from his face, and beads of sweat had begun to break out on his brow. When he spoke, it was reluctant, and with pain, “Over… O-Overheating—“

Dib frowned, panic building in his chest. Overheating?! A device created by an advanced alien species, made specifically to keep them from dying was capable of overheating?! The human found himself at a loss, one arm holding Zim, the other hand hovering dumbly over his PAK. “What do I do?!”

“WAIT! J… Just… wait!” the IRKEN hissed, “Will… pass.”

Waiting was easier said than done. The same uselessness that had taken root in the forefront of Dib’s mind back during their fourteen-week journey had begun to blossom once more as he watched Zim writhe under the searing metal. The little guy had managed to get himself awfully worked up, and it seemed he was paying the price. The human decided it best to drop their argument, allow Zim a win, move on. It just wasn’t worth the suffering. The IRKEN needed time to heal, both physically and mentally, and riling him up only proved to be dangerous.

As the PAK slowly cooled, the strain on its components dying down and allowing it to function (relatively) smoothly once more, Zim’s body went limp in the human’s arms. His small chest heaved, antennae pinned back against his head, smoothed by a careful hand. Any regained energy had left him now, leaving nothing more than an empty shell behind. Dib could have sworn he felt something damp against his shirt, where Zim had been hiding his face…

“... Have… you really… lost your home?” the question startled Dib, who had been sitting in relative silence as he waited for his companion to recover. He looked down at Zim, brown eyes meeting one of magenta, peeking out at him from against his own clothing. One glance at the dark steaks on his green cheek told him exactly what the dampness had been.

“Uh… yeah.” the boy replied with a sigh, reaching one hand up to run back through his hair, “I did.”

“... How?”

A pause, and a frown, “Dad kicked me out. Told me he didn’t want to deal with my ‘paranormal escapades’ anymore.”

That single, pupil-less eye frowned, “Zim d… does not understand.”

“It means I’m homeless, Zim. Like, I have nowhere to live anymore.” Dib turned his gaze away, eyes scanning the familiar surroundings, “I don’t know what I’m going to do from here.”

Silence reigned once more, though this one shorter than the last, “Zim h… has been… in search of a h-human slave.” the alien spoke, though his voice sounded uncertain, as though he was trying to rationalise something in his own mind, “They would s… stay here in th… the base, of course.”

It took Dib a moment to realise what the little IRKEN was doing. Emotions were all but banned in Zim’s society, and acts of kindness went hand-in-hand with feelings of sympathy, of empathy. However, there were always loopholes that one could jump through in an attempt to justify one’s actions. With a quirk of a brow, Dib offered a lop-sided smile down at his extraterrestrial companion, “Oh, yeah?”

“Eh… yes. Though my efforts have been… unsuccessful. So far.” Zim quickly averted his gaze the moment it met the human’s, “Zim… does not s… suppose you know a willing… victim?”

Dib couldn’t hold back the exhausted laugh that bubbled up within his chest, spilling messily forth as he scratched idly at the base of one of the IRKEN’s antennae, “I think I know just the guy.”