VINDICATION

CHAPTER ONE: Decision

****just an additional disclaimer for this entry; contemplated suicide****


Dib sat on the roof of the Membrane house, looking up at the night sky for the last time.

He couldn’t take it any more. As he struggled through his last year of Hi-Skool, things were getting worse than they ever had been before. After his father and sister had tried repeatedly to get him committed to a mental institution, some shrink finally diagnosed Dib as having bipolar disorder. Dib scowled down at the shingles beneath his feet. So he was manic depressive. Big hairy deal. It made no difference, really; people had always treated him like he was nuts, diagnosis or not. But as he looked down at the open switchblade in his hand, then back up at the stars, he decided that it was probably the only diagnosis that explained anything in regards to him wanting to…end things.

He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, the swoop that he’d worn up for so long as a kid now worn down beside his face, framing his features on both sides and bringing less attention to the size of his head, which, as his teenage years went past, became more proportionate to his body size. In fact, by now everything about him looked pretty normal, perhaps even a little attractive; however, it was what was on the inside that made everyone ostracize him.

When his vision started to get a little fuzzy, he frowned and took off his glasses, polishing them and then putting them back on before realizing that it was tears blurring his sight. Dib sighed and pulled the glasses off again, rubbing at his eyes. He hated feeling like this…he hated it so much…feeling like the only thing that would stop people from hurting and ridiculing him was to just die and get away from all of them. Looking down at the wrinkled soon-to-be suicide note in his hand, he sighed. There was only one word on the page.

Believe.

It was the only thing he could think to write. It was the only message he wanted to convey to anyone who met him, and the one message that everyone consistently ignored.

As Dib lowered the blade to his forearm again, he gritted his teeth. This was the only way out. But…he looked up at the stars again and felt an ache inside. For so long he’d thought of himself as special…he’d dreamed of something out there. He’d dreamed that some day he might leave Earth to go and visit distant worlds. Dreamed of other beings, other forms of life that may one day come to Earth. And then, oh mockery of mockeries…an alien came and set up base just down the street from him.

Zim.

Dib scowled. Everybody ignored it, even though it was painfully obvious. Although now Zim had lived on Earth for several years, and had gone through several changes himself, all of which made Dib’s protests and accusations more and more futile.

For one, Zim had grown taller and had perfected his disguise. He now went as a pale-skinned teen, with long black hair tied back in a low ponytail, dark green eyes outlined with black eyeliner, and black clothes with knee-high black combat boots. In fact, Zim looked so human now that if Dib hadn’t known the truth about him, he may have mistaken him for one.

Dib lifted the blade for the hundredth time. If he went through with this, then Zim would go unchecked in his mission, and would probably succeed in conquering the Earth. But why should he care? If he went through with this, he wouldn’t be here to witness it anyway. And if he didn’t go through with this, what was there to gain? More mockery, less and less proof of Zim’s true identity, and more and more anguish for himself. And possibly, just possibly, slavery to Zim in the end. Possibly.

Dib sighed heavily, clenching his eyes closed. There really was nothing here for him to make him want to stay. His father ignored him, and his sister was always beating the crap out of him when she wasn’t ignoring him too. Even the Swollen Eyeball had disowned him, all of his equipment had been confiscated and all of his transmissions to their circle were blocked and deleted before arriving.

As he looked up to the stars, Dib felt a growing sense of despair inside of him. All of those distant places he longed to see, to visit and explore…places Zim could just hop into the Voot Runner and take off to. And after nearly eight years, Dib still couldn’t get Tak’s ship to attain escape velocity. He was positive now that it never would.

So why live? Why keep going when there was nothing to gain, nothing to dream of, or strive to achieve? At least Zim had a goal.

Zim…

Dib paused as something dawned on him.

If ending it all was the only way out, then Zim would undoubtedly succeed in his mission. And if Zim was going to succeed in his mission if he died, then what difference would it make if Dib lived and simply tried to join Zim in his conquest of Earth? It would be like he’d gone through with it, only he’d be alive, and on Zim’s side.

Dib closed the switchblade and considered this.

Could he really forsake his own race to join the Irkens in their conquest? Being a creature of logic, he needed to measure the pros and cons.

What did he have to gain by joining Zim? Well, he’d prove to all the non-believers that he’d been right all along. He grins…ahh, the sweet taste of vindication. That would be a definite plus. And he’d get to see the stars, and meet other alien races. Another plus. And power, and wealth, and all that stuff would be his, although Dib didn’t really care much for the material things. He was more interested in knowledge and exploration. And those were things that he could gain by joining Zim in his conquest of Earth.

But what did he have to lose? What were the negatives of the decision to abandon his own race? Well, they may become extinct. Then again, that would be their own fault for being too stupid to recognize the growing alien threat. He’d be abandoning his family…well, his father and sister anyway. But all they’d done for the past few years was try and get him thrown into a loony bin anyway. He scowls. No loss there, really.

Dib rose to his feet and looked down the street at Zim’s house, now painted a discreet shade of beige, and tossed the switchblade into the night.

He’d made his decision.


CHAPTER 2:  Confrontation

Disclaimer:  Batman is property of Stan Lee.

Dib approached the tall, narrow beige house, taking a deep breath and adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. He straightened his posture and walked up to the front door, seeing the weird-looking lawn gnomes following his movement out of the corner of his eye. Wiping his sweating palms on his jeans, he raised a fist and knocked loudly on the door.

A few seconds passed before the door swung open, and a butler looking uncannily like Alfred from the Batman movies stood there, looking at him impassively.

“Yes?” He asked.

Dib blinked at the butler for a moment and then cleared his throat. “Uh…hi…I’d like to see Zim.”

The butler seemed to contemplate him for a long time before stepping back and waving him in.

“Thanks.” Dib muttered, looking around. He heard the rapid clicking of nails on tile, and an enormous Rottweiler burst into the room and stopped about a yard from where Dib was standing. The dog’s eyes narrowed and it began to growl at him, its hackles raised and its teeth bared. Taking a step towards him, the dog growled louder, then started barking viciously at him, its eyes glowing red, saliva dripping from its mouth.

Panicking, Dib tugged frantically at the doorknob, trying to get out, but the door wouldn’t budge.

A few seconds later the barking stopped and Dib heard a familiar voice behind him.

“Stand down, GIR.”

Dib turned just in time to catch sight of the Rottweiler transforming into the little metallic robot. GIR saluted Zim, his eyes still glowing red. Zim was standing a few feet behind him, glaring at Dib. He tapped a hidden button on his shoulder, and the human disguise disappeared. There was really no reason to keep the costume on; after all, it was only Dib. Now standing just over six and a half feet tall, Zim wore a longer, darker version of his standard uniform. His antennae were a little longer now too, and curved back in the same delicate swoop as they always had. Zim crossed his arms over his chest.

“What do you want, Dib-worm?”

Dib was still blinking at GIR, shocked at the new disguise, and at GIR’s new functionality. Then again, if Zim’s disguise had been perfected to the degree it had, then Zim having a new and improved GIR was only logical. Swallowing hard, Dib stepped forward, meeting Zim’s gaze.

“I want to join you.”

Zim’s ruby eyes narrowed slightly. “Join me in what?”

“Your mission.”

Zim blinked at him, his eyes widening. Suddenly he grinned, then burst out laughing, eventually doubling over with the force of it. When he finally straightened again, he leaned against GIR and rubbed his eyes.

“Oh…hah…oh, Dib…that’s a good one. I haven’t laughed that hard since you tried to get me to help your sister when you turned her into a pig-demon.”

Dib set his jaw, his fists clenching. “I’m serious.”

Shaking his head, Zim chuckled and waved dismissively. “Enough. I don’t have time for this chatter right now.”

Dib stepped forward, his voice louder and more firm. “I told you, Zim, I’m serious. I want to join you in your mission to conquer Earth.”

Zim scowled. “I don’t need any help from you, human.”

“That’s not an issue. I know you probably don’t need my help. I want to join you. I want to be your ally.”

Zim’s eyes darkened and he growled. “Ally? I need no allies. Get out.”

Feeling that he’d started off wrong, Dib removed his backpack and set it down. “Here, I’ll show you—”

“GIR, scan for weapons.” Zim ordered, stepping back and crossing his arms again.

GIR’s eyes narrowed to glowing red slits as he scanned the bag, then saluted Zim again. “SIR, WEAPONS SEARCH NEGATIVE!”

Zim watched as Dib pulled a pile of books out of the backpack, setting them down on the floor. “What are you doing?”

“I brought these for you.” Dib pushed the pile of books towards Zim. “There’s all kinds of useful information in them…stuff on genetics, human biology, the structure of human society, mechanics, geology, geography, history…all kinds of stuff that you can use to your advantage. Here.” He stood and held one out to him.

Zim looked at it distastefully. “You’re up to something.”

Dib shook his head. “No…I’ve just come to a decision. I want to help you take this planet over.”

Zim's ruby eyes narrowed again and he quirked an antenna. “I already told you, Dib-worm, I don’t NEED help. Besides, why would YOU want to help ME?”

Dib sighed, his shoulders slumping a little. “I don’t fit in here, Zim. I never have, and I never will.” He scowled, tossing the book to the floor again. “Everyone thinks I’m crazy, and everyone treats me like dirt…even my own family.” Dib clenched his fists. “I hate it here. I’m sick and tired of humanity…so I want to help you take it over, and if you want, to wipe it out.”

Zim was greatly unnerved by this drastic change in Dib’s morals, and he shook his head. “All of that is irrelevant. I don’t want your help. I am an Invader, and I need NO-ONE.”

Dib blinked at Zim, not knowing what to say any more. “Please, Zim…I don’t want to be an opponent any more. I want to be an ally, I swear—”

“I NEED NO ALLIES!!” Zim shouted, stalking towards him. “GET OUT!!”

Backing up, Dib tried frantically to think of some way to salvage any remaining opportunity to get what he was after. “Wait! No, wait, listen—”

“Out, out, OUT!!” Zim snarled, pointing to the door.

“No!! Zim, please, if you…if you won’t take me as an ally, then…then…” At this point in his life, Dib had little pride left to sacrifice anyway. He swallowed hard, then dropped to one knee, his head lowered. “…then take me as a…a servant. A subordinate.”

Zim, just about to grab Dib by the neck and throw him out, stopped in his tracks, blinking in surprise. He looked down at the top of Dib’s now proportionately-sized head, his scarlet eyes narrowing.

“You insult my intelligence, Dib-monkey. I’ll take you as my PRISONER until I find out what you’re really after.”

Dib shrugged and rose to his feet. “I understand. It’s something I’m willing to endure.”

Zim’s eyes burned a darker shade of red and he snarled, grabbing Dib by the throat and slamming him against the door, his grip tightening as he hissed at him.

“Willing?” Zim spat the word out. “Understand this, human: within these walls, there is no will but MINE.” He released Dib and stepped back. “COMPUTER!! Restrain the intruder!”

In a split second, Dib, still gasping for breath, was bound from head to toe in thick snakelike metal cords. He hit the ground hard, although he didn’t struggle. He just remained still, thinking of all the things he had to gain, and for a few brief seconds, a smile crept across his face.


CHAPTER 3:  Experiment

*****Just another disclaimer, there’s blood in this one, non-sexual scarring/modification/torture/whatever.  So if it squicks you, then don’t read*****


Dib opened his eyes slowly, feeling groggy.  Had he been knocked out?  He must have been, because he didn’t remember the trip down to the lab.

And he sure as hell didn’t remember being strapped down to an autopsy table.  

He heard steady beeping to the left, and when he turned his head, Dib saw that he was hooked up to an oddly designed cardiac monitor.  All the data was in Irken, although the line had peaks and spikes like a regular human cardiogram.  Looking down, he also saw that he’d been stripped down to his boxers, and there were several other wires trailing down his thighs and legs.  Dib closed his eyes again, listening to the rapid beeping of the cardiac monitor.  He needed to try and calm down.  He’d been prepared for this.  But somehow, now that he was on the table, the preparation didn’t seem to have been very effective.  He swallowed hard, licking his lips and trying to lift his head again.

“Stop moving around.  You’re throwing off the readings.”

Dib almost jumped out of his skin at the low growl.  He swallowed hard, taking another deep breath.

“Sorry.”  He muttered.  Dib remained quiet for a long moment and then asked, “What are you doing?”

“SILENCE!”  Zim snarled, adjusting some of the monitors again.

Dib flinched, but remained quiet this time, trying to stay still.

A few minutes later, he felt Zim removing the wires attached to his body.  Dib watched Zim move around the autopsy table, his gaze wary.  When Zim reached back and pulled something from a side table, Dib tensed.

“What’s that for?”

Zim grinned, his eyes narrowing as he looked up at Dib’s terrified expression.  “What’s wrong, human?  Scared to have a taste of your own medicine?”  Zim pressed the edge of the Irken blade against Dib’s bare stomach, snickering at the way Dib tensed and held his breath.  “You’ve had so many sick little fantasies about cutting me open…I want to see what the appeal is.  What was it about pulling out my insides that turned you on so much?”  Zim trailed the edge of the blade across Dib’s stomach, grinning when a deep cut appeared, blood welling up and trickling over Dib’s skin.  

Dib started panting rapidly, tugging against the bonds that were holding him down to the table.  “Please…don’t do this…I was a screwed-up child, Zim, can’t you understand?”

Zim snorted.  “Save your breath, human.  I’m not going to kill you yet.  I just want to verify that some of those books are accurate.  So far, my tests have shown that they are, but I wish to be absolutely certain.”  Zim tied something rubbery around Dib’s elbow, pulling the knot painfully tight.

Dib craned his neck to try and see what was being done, then gasped, grimacing as Zim made another, deeper cut along the forearm that had just been tied off, slicing the skin open right down to the bone.  Dib grunted in pain, gritting his teeth hard, sweat breaking out on his forehead as Zim spread the wound open and began to scrape the edge of the blade along the bone, gathering the flakes into a small container, which he instantly sealed and set aside.  

Blood was already starting to pool on the floor at Zim’s feet, but he worked quickly, gathering samples of muscle tissue and nerve tissue before stepping back and grabbing another tool from a side table, using it to seal the wound, putting a row of tiny staples in to seal the skin closed.  Zim removed the rubbery tie from Dib’s elbow and then stepped back.

“There.  That will heal in a week or so, if your books are anything to go by.” Zim snickered, grinning to himself, pleased with the data he’d verified and the samples he’d collected for study.  Also, on another level, he was pleased with the amount of pain he’d caused.  He could have easily used an anesthetic, but it was far more enjoyable to watch his rival suffer.
  
Dib lay there panting, his arm still throbbing, although the pain had lessened a great deal.  He closed his eyes, his expression still tight with agony.  “Are you going to give me some orange juice or something like that so I don’t pass out?”

Zim laughed mockingly.  “You don’t deserve the consideration.  After the nightmares I’ve suffered because of your—” Zim stopped abruptly, straightening a little, not having meant to admit that Dib had disturbed him so greatly when he first came to Earth.  He released the ties holding Dib down to the table, stepping back for a moment to watch him.

Dib groaned softly, the world spinning around him so badly that all he could do was turn onto his side; however, the movement ended up making the dizziness worse and he puked on the table.

Jumping back just in time to avoid having his uniform spattered with vomit, Zim made a face, turning away and pulling out his walkie-talkie.

“GIR, come down to the lab and clean up this mess.  And bring some juice for the Dib-worm.  Put him in his cage when you’re finished.”



CHAPTER 4:  Stockholm Syndrome


Dib shivered in the steel cage, wrapping his arms around himself.  He was still in his boxers, and he’d had nothing but GIR’s orange juice for the past six hours.  He was starting to feel decidedly hungry, and he at least wanted his pants back, because the loss of blood he’d suffered earlier had made him more susceptible to the cold.  He only hoped he wasn’t going into shock or anything.  

Dib had only debated for a split second on whether or not his suffering was worth it, and he had just as quickly concluded that it was, and that any experiments Zim performed could be endured.  As GIR stood guard, Dib stretched and sighed.  “Hey, GIR, can I please have my pants back?  I’m kinda cold.”

GIR turned his head and blinked his red eyes at him a few times before they turned a blue-green colour and he grinned.  “Okeedokie!”  

The little robot ran off, returning five minutes later with Dib’s pants, and another glass of orange juice.  

Dib took the pants gratefully, climbing into them and taking the glass of orange juice, looking at it dubiously.  “Uh…say, GIR, I appreciate the juice and all…but I’m pretty hungry right now.”  He suddenly remembered one of the worst projects he’d put forward for the Swollen Eyeball as a kid, and he smiled hopefully.  “Hey, how about some waffles?  Do you have the ones with waffle in ‘em?”

GIR squealed, nodding and bounding off, his metallic feet clinking against the ground as he ran out of the lab.  Dib smiled and shook his head.  He’d always liked GIR.  Back in the days when he’d been so intent on destroying Zim, he’d actually planned to keep GIR for himself once Zim was handed over to the Earth authorities.  

He frowned, remembering something Zim had said when he was on the autopsy table.  Something about giving him nightmares…  Dib winced, feeling a twinge of guilt that had never been there before.  The more he thought about it, the more he began to regret his treatment of Zim after his arrival on Earth.  He’d automatically assumed that Zim was evil upon first sight; and, while that may have been the case, it could have been different.  What if Zim had been a member of a friendly alien race out to learn about the Earth and its inhabitants?  Dib would have made the most negative impression ever.  He sighed, trailing his fingers over the tiny staples in his forearm.  He’d been cruel to Zim since day one; and although some of it may have been deserved, a lot of it was out of sheer sadistic malice.

Like that time he threw sandwich meat at Zim’s face, knowing he was allergic to it.

Dib winced.  Now that he thought of it, he truly had been cruel to Zim when he was younger.  Granted, it wasn’t as if his attempts to capture Zim and defeat him would have been very professional at that age, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the driving force behind his quest to expose Zim was his own need for acknowledgement and validation.  He wanted everyone to take him seriously, to notice him for once and to stop and listen to what he had to say.  And because of that, Zim had suffered.

“The only reason I’m selling this dirt in a wrapper is to watch you fail at something else…”

Dib sighed…it wasn’t like Zim had come to Earth of his own volition or anything…he’d found out from GIR that Zim was sent here by the Tallest because they didn’t like him.  And everything Zim was doing, he was doing to try and prove that he was a competent Invader, and that he could do the job right.

How ironic, Dib mused, that he and Zim, his former arch enemy, were so alike in some respects; both ostracized by their own kind and both out to prove something.  It was almost logical that they would come to this:  joining forces to oppose those who ridiculed them.

Before he could contemplate it further, GIR dashed into the room with a plate of waffles bigger than he was.

“WAFFLES!!!!!”

Dib chuckled, taking the plate from the little robot and setting it down so he didn’t drop it.  “Yes…and muffins!”  He picked one up and took a bite, discovering that it was chocolatey chocolate chip.  How like GIR.  “Thanks, GIR, you’re the best.”

The little robot clapped his metal hands and then his eyes turned red again as he returned to his monitoring of the prisoner and the surrounding area within the lab.


CHAPTER 5:  Earth Syndrome


Zim bolted upright in the middle of the night, his chest heaving and his pale green skin coated in a fine sheen of sweat.  He’d had another nightmare…damn it, he thought he’d put all of that behind him.  His fists clenched tightly, and he tried to settle himself down, but after half an hour of tossing and turning, he finally gave up on sleep and went into his bathing room, filling the tub with warm gel.  Zim looked at his reflection in the mirror, relieved that he didn’t look as shaken as he felt.  He shuddered, then began to remove his clothing, setting it aside and then climbing into the tub.  The warm purple gel was soothing, although it did little to quell his anger.  But as the minutes passed, he found himself letting go of that as well, sinking down into the gel up to his chin, stretching and curling his antennae in pleasure.  He sighed, purring and closing his eyes.

About an hour later he made his way down to the lab, stopping in front of the cage where Dib was curled up, sleeping soundly in the far corner.  Zim’s red eyes narrowed in hatred, and he debated on whether or not to just pull Dib out right now and strangle him.  But no, if he was going to kill the Dib, he wanted to make it long, and slow, and excruciating.

But what of this talk of an alliance?  Zim certainly needed no ally.  Yet there had been something so disturbingly…honest about Dib’s proposal.  Zim shook his head and scowled again.  It didn’t matter.  He’d rather kill the human than have him as an ally…but Dib had also proposed to be a servant.  No…no, he was a prisoner, damn it.  The rotten human beast deserved to be a prisoner after the suffering he’d caused.  Deserved to be humiliated, tortured, dissected, and forced to endure the most horrifying cruelties imaginable.  Dib had shown him cruelty, and Zim would return it tenfold.

Then again, that had been several years ago…but what difference did that make?  He still hated Dib.  Could one consider someone they hated to be an ally?  No.

A servant?  Zim shook his head again.  

A slave?

Yes…

Zim grinned, finally.  If not a prisoner, then a slave.  One he could be ruthless with, one he could viciously degrade at will and inflict various forms of torture upon, and still expect service from in return.  And if the human was really so desperate for alliance, then he would be a very willing slave.  Yes…that would be the test.  He’d see just how badly the Dib wanted this alliance.

Zim laughed maniacally as he left the lab, leaving Dib to disturbing dreams of his own.


Chapter 6:  Slave


Dib awoke with a start when the cage door slammed against the wall.  Zim stood there, his arms crossed over his chest, looking down at him.

“Get up.”  He growled.

A shudder ran down Dib’s spine at the tone of Zim’s voice, and he rose to his feet quickly, backing away a little.  

Zim stepped forward, pulling something out of his PAK.  “Don’t move.”

Dib yelped when something snapped around his neck, pinching the skin and burning a little.  He instinctively pushed against Zim’s chest, but when he looked up, it was directly into the dark red eyes of the Invader.

“Wh-what are you doing?”  He rasped, his hands still on Zim’s chest.

Zim ran his gloved fingers along the edges of the metal collar.  “Staking my claim.  You are my prisoner, yes…but you will serve me in the meantime as my slave, and will do so until I decide that I can trust you.”  He snickered, stepping back to eye his newest possession.  “Then, and only then, will I consider your proposal for alliance.”

Dib swallowed hard, but straightened his posture, holding his head up proudly.  If Zim thought he could scare him away, then he was sorely mistaken.  Dib had made up his mind, and he would stand by Zim’s side over the crumbling remnants of the human race if it was the last thing he did.

Zim shook his head, grinning and backing out of the cage.  “Come, slave.”

Dib stepped forward, jumping when Zim snarled.

“I did not give you permission to walk, stink-beast.”

A shudder ran through Dib’s frame as he lowered himself to the ground.  Christ, Zim must’ve had a different kind of slavery in mind…

Dib clenched his teeth and crawled towards him on his belly, telling himself inwardly that he would only have to bear the indignity for a while, until Zim tired of it…

“Now, slave--” Zim emphasized the word, drawing great pleasure from the way it made Dib tense.  “I want you to kiss my feet.”

The words made Dib’s stomach clench, his blood running cold.  “W-what?”

Zim’s eyes narrowed and one sharp tentacle emerged from his PAK to prod at Dib’s back.  “You heard me.”

Dib winced at the pricking sensation, shuddering again.  Still worth it.  Revenge…still worth doing this…

He leaned forward, tentatively touching his mouth to the black material, his cheeks flushed.

Zim watched, intrigued, amazed that the once proud Dib was on his belly before him, kissing his feet.  It was such a pleasurable feeling…but different, somehow …it made him tingle.  Maybe having Dib as his slave wouldn’t be so bad.  Kneeling down, Zim met Dib’s eyes, running a finger down the vulnerable column of his throat and along the metal collar, a dark smile on his face.

Dib shivered at the feel of Zim’s finger running along his skin, pulling away and making a face.

Seeing the human’s response to his touch, Zim growled, shoving him to the ground and stomping out, uncertain as to why Dib’s reaction had offended him so much.