***
“Dib?”
Zim opened the door to the human’s room, his eyes scanning for a body as well as any signs of blood. He hated the thought of Dib being left alone. He saw all the daggers in their places on the display over the dresser. The room was completely spotless; not a sock on the floor or a wrinkle in the sheets on his red-blanketed bed. It didn’t look like anyone had ever lived in the room; the powerful stench of clean undiluted by human odors.
“Dib?” His voice was taking on a desperate edge as he neared the closed closet doors. His hand reached out to grace the identification pad, praying he’d find what he wanted and not emptiness or death. The green pad gave a brief beep, signaling it was already unlocked, much to Zim’s relief. The doors swung open.
His eyes focused on the shapes of the floor.
One of them was wearing a trench coat.
Zim breathed a sigh of relief. “Dib, what are you doing in the closet?”
The body on the floor rustled, burying its head in its knees. “How’d you know I was here?”
“I told you: I’ve known you long enough to write your biography.” Zim smiled, extending his hand. “Come on. You can’t hide forever.”
Dib pulled away from the offered hand. “I’m not hiding.”
“You’re in a closet, Dib,” Zim pointed out.
“This is where the monsters are supposed to go.”
A body wrenching sob threatened to fall from the Irkin’s mouth. He let out a shuddering breath, feeling the skin prickle on the back of his neck. “You’re not a monster, Dib...” He knelt down, sitting on his heals. “If anyone’s a monster, it’s Torque...and me...” The last part was a whisper, intended for only the silence between them and his own pitying heart.
Dib shifted, turning his head to the side, looking at Zim for the first time. “I can still feel him inside me,” he said quietly, only mildly aware of the fingers that ran through his hair, pushing it out of his face.
“I know.”
“Do you?” Dib’s mouth set in a firm determined frown, his eyes narrowing in anger.
“I meant... “ Zim moved his hand from the tangled mass of inky hair to the quivering shoulder. “I mean I believe you.”
Dib’s body instantly uncurled, the arms flinging out and clasping behind Zim’s back as the tear-stained face pressed hard into the Irkin’s chest, as if it could somehow push it’s way into the flesh. Zim only happily complied, his arms caressing the shivering body and throwing out all doubt, as his lips tenderly kissed his forehead and his cheek rubbed against the black tangles.
“I didn’t want to feel him anymore,” the muffled voice confessed. “I was so mad, I thought he took everything that was worth something in me and left only a body fit to fuck.”
Zim tried to hush him, wanting only to hold him. But Dib continued, his voice growing stronger with every sentence.
“When I saw the way you looked at me that night at my house, I knew what you wanted. He’d looked the same way. I felt obligated to whore myself out to you, like it was the only thing I was worth, a cheap screw. And when you refused...oh god...when you walked away I felt something in me come alive again. And I knew Torque hadn’t killed off everything good in me.” He moved his arms, holding Zim tighter. “You gave me back my will to survive. But I wanted more than that. I’m so tired of just surviving. I wanted to live. I thought, since you did it before, you could do it again, bring part of me back.” Dib looked up, his face smiling. “I was terrified, but you were gentle. You cared about what I felt, about what every move you made did to me. And it wasn’t Torque anymore. It was you. I felt you and for a while, I forgot about everything.”
Zim smiled. “I’m so sorry, Dib. I never should have said those things to you. I was so caught up in what I thought were lies; I never stopped to think what if you were telling the truth. Had I just taken the time, I’d have understood. I wouldn’t have been such an asshole.”
“You were right though.” Dib let his hand fall, letting both rest on the ground. “We’re enemies.”
“Were, Dib.” Zim pulled Dib closer, this time angling his head to intercept the human’s. Their lips touched, a sensation that was ended too briefly. “I don’t ever want to hurt you again.”
Dib sighed, falling into the warmth he’d thought he’d never deserve. “You don’t have to worry; I don’t plan on getting hurt.”
They stayed in a silence of a thousand words, waiting for nothing and everything to bring eternity to the moment.
**
Zim looked at his lover on the bed, fighting back the sigh that always escaped him. The wiry body of youth had filled out into adult hood, the once black hair speckled in grey. Since the morning he’d first found the colorless strands, Zim knew. Dib would die years before him. Centuries perhaps. Still long into the future, but imminent and unchangeable.
The Irkin closed the door to their bedroom silently, repeating the same routine he’d adopted over the years. He pressed the coffee pot on and sat in his chair at the table, watching the liquid drop down into the pot.
He envied the Tallest and their shared romance. One would most likely outlive the other, but not by much. Their life expectancy was the same, only individual health problems to keep them from sharing their last breaths. And here Zim had fallen for a human, a being who’s life was written in sand to last only a third of an Irkin’s before being swept away by the endless sea. It wasn’t fair.
He’d been working on a serum that would adapt Dib’s organs to survive as long a time as an Irkin. It worked as far as all tests showed. But not on Dib, the only test subject that mattered. It slowed deterioration, even improved on many human weaknesses. Everything was perfect except for the fact that it didn’t work. Dib was just too old for his cells to adapt to it.
Zim watched the last drop of coffee fall and poured himself a mug full to the brim, slurping off the top what could have spilled over.
There was still one last test to run, if one could call it that. Zim hesitated to even think about it. The consequences were great and yet so were the prizes to the victor. He remembered stories of when Dib was a child, how he swore he’d been adducted and they’d run tests on him.
Zim set his empty mug down with an affirmative strike.
The only way to be with Dib forever was to go to the past and administer the drug to him when his cells could still adapt to the changes. But if it had some adverse affect on the past Dib, the future would change. He might never have known Dib, never loved him. But such good could come at the same time. He might never be raped, never have had to live through his sister’s tragic car accident and death.
It was all a backwards spiral: a loop of possibilities hung from one point and choice in time that ripples through and rewrites the helix.
And in one of those possibilities was a time in which it worked, and the Dib he’d loved would live through the centuries.
Zim pushed off the table and headed down to his lab, reaching his time gate in record time. The date was already set, a last minute apprehension keeping him from realizing the dream. But if worst came to worst, he’d never remember the happiness he knew now and in the end, all that would matter was the conclusion.
He wished he’d stopped by their room one last time to kiss the Dib he knew now before making his way to the gate.
Pressing the button, Zim rewrote the spiral. ** The first thing Zim learned to love about Earth was its gravity...