InsaneJournal

Chapter Thirteen – In which a promise is made

Zim leaned against the doorframe, watching his rival with disinterest as he packed as much as he could fit into the duffel bag – its size wasn’t exactly conducive to the task, unfortunately. “It’s not much, but…it’s good enough for the moment, I guess,” Dib sighed, slinging it over his shoulder. “How’s the baby?”

“Ehh? She’s good.” The infant had fallen asleep in the Irken’s arms not long after being fed, something that had only served to further spur Dib into getting them on the move – he didn’t want to risk anything discovering them if she started crying. “How could she not be if Zim is caring for her?”

Giving a roll of his eyes, Dib replied blandly, “Right, how could I forget that you’re amazing?” Zim only hummed in agreement and creaked open the front door with his free hand, peering outside; no droids in sight, but in the far distance, he could just make out the vague outline of a sentinel mech – the Krakemeth hadn’t finished with the planet yet.

It was something that was both relieving and unnerving – they’d have to be careful on their trek, but at least they didn’t need to worry about any potential organic sweeps for the time being, and the fact that night was steadily approaching would make the ‘being careful’ portion much easier.

When the Irken stayed silent, his companion shuffled over quietly. “See anything?” A useless question, considering that Dib had eyes and thus could just as easily look outside himself.

“Nothing we'll need to worry about,” Zim responded, throwing a flat look back at the human. “Lazy stink-creature. You have eyes, use them.”

The teen frowned at him. “I was just asking, geez…” Shuffling from foot to foot uncertainly for a moment, he spoke up again. “Want me to carry the baby?”

Zim flicked an antenna, the flat look switching out for something more along the lines of ‘unimpressed’ as he stared back at Dib. “You’d be more useless than usual, so no. Zim at least has methods of defense even when carrying stuff – methods of defense that don’t require arms.” The PAK’s compartments clicked open for a moment in demonstration, then snapped shut once more. “So, ehh…unless you’ve got an extra appendage Zim doesn’t know about hidden somewhere on your person, it’s a really stupid idea if you carry her.”

“…You know, a simple no would’ve been enough,” Dib muttered.

“I’m an overachiever,” the Irken responded with a mocking smirk.

“And all you’re achieving in the first place is getting on my nerves. Yeah, Zim – great job!” Shaking his head a bit in disbelief, he started past Zim. “Let’s just go.”

An arm across the doorway halted his progress and he glanced down to the Irken curiously; for a moment Zim only tapped a clawed finger against the wood frame, pursing his lips as he considered something. “Not yet, Dib-creature – not until you assure Zim of something.”

Dib raised an eyebrow; Zim wanted to be assured of something? “Uh…okay. What?”

“…I can’t trust you.”

Ah. So that was what it was about. Without even waiting for the Irken to continue, Dib spoke up, looking somewhat annoyed that he had to explain it at all. “All things considered, right now you have no reason not to trust me. Aside from your usual paranoia, that is.”

The Irken shook his head, eyes narrowed in distrust. “You, Dib-human, in nearly all of the instances in which we were forced to cooperate, betrayed Zim.”

“So glad to know you’ve been keeping track. In case you forgot, we were still enemies – betraying each other was just a normal part of the deal.”

“You ignored ZIM in favor of real science!” Zim complained fervently, slouching a bit and just about pouting, which was really quite bizarre.

Dib threw his hands up, frustrated. “Are you still upset about that?! I only did it once!” When the alien only continued to glare up at him moodily, he groaned and rubbed at his temples. “Okay, look – I have no reason to betray you, or whatever it is you’re freaking out about. I hate to say it – and I mean I really hate to say it – but without your help, I’m pretty much screwed.”

The Irken frowned a bit, unsure, one eye narrowing. “You would not take Tak’s ship and leave Zim?”

“And do what?!” Dib laughed incredulously. “If the Irken Empire is as big as you say, I’d have little to no chance of finding a safe haven – and even then, the only currency I have on me is American dollars. And that’s not even useful in America anymore!”

With an interested noise, Zim nodded – it did make sense.

“Anyway, we’re under truce right now.”

Almost immediately, the Irken’s antennae perked. “Truce?” Zim echoed shortly. “Zim agreed to no truce! What is this stupidness?”

It was at this point that Dib figured he should stop trying to read between the lines whenever the Irken said something vaguely intelligent. He could’ve sworn that Zim’s grudging acceptance of terms just a while earlier had been as close as the alien would ever willingly get to admitting an armistice.

Groaning and holding a hand to his forehead, the teen gave up trying to be subtle. “Zim. Your base is gone and the planet invaded – neither of us has any reason to fight, so why shouldn’t we be under truce?”

“I can’t make truces with you, you’re a stupid, smelly human!” Zim whined.

“I thought we were over that!” Dib grated out angrily, on the verge of strangling the obnoxious creature before him.

The ire-filled statement had the Irken frowning grumpily and averting his eyes, remaining stubbornly silent.

When it became abundantly clear that Zim was being a brat and wasn’t going to own up to anything, the boy sighed harshly, running a hand back through his hair – ouch. Yep, still tangled. “I’m more worried about this than you are, honestly. If you leave me behind, I’m dead, and if I join you…well…chances are I’m still dead.”

“Why?” Dib glanced down at the alien, seemingly bemused – Zim’s expression was rather similar. “Zim has no reason to kill you now.”

And there it was – it wasn’t an agreement to any truce, but it was damn close, and just hearing it was a relief. He gave a weak grin, something that didn’t exactly help to clear the Irken’s confusion. “You better not try to keep me as a slave or a…pet or whatever. I’ll steal your PAK off you if you do.” It was less of a warning, and more of a thoroughly humorless joke. They both knew very well what had happened last time Dib had tried that.

Zim waved a dismissive hand (almost dropping the baby, but he caught himself just in time). “Nah – you’d probably just jump out of an airlock somewhere.” Another humorless joke that had a wry smirk spreading on the paranormalist’s face.

“You mean it, right? You absolutely swear that there won't be any enslaving or pet-making?”

“Yes,” Zim insisted, rolling his eyes. “You’d be a useless slave, anyway.” He paused to think, tilting his head to the side a little and examining Dib as though he’d never seen him before. “Too filthy to be a pet, and…probably rabid, too. You might bite Zim.” The Irken shuddered a tad at the prospect.

Jokingly, Dib growled a little and snapped his teeth – the alien immediately ambled back a step, eying his rival warily.

“You’re disgusting,” Zim stated dully.

“If you say so.”

The Irken huffed a little at what he considered a useless statement. “Yes, Zim does say so.” Scratching at his chin for a moment, he then asked casually, “So will the Dib be loyal?”

“Well, I wouldn’t exactly go out of my way to take a bullet for you, but I wouldn’t shove you into its trajectory, either.”

“How reassuring,” Zim responded flatly, giving his rival a dirty look.

Dib shrugged, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder and stepping out onto the porch, wheezing a bit at the hazy air. “You wouldn’t happen to have a less intrusive atmospheric kind of thing, would you?” he asked as the Irken followed, much less bothered by the air quality.

Quirking an antenna at the simply incredible description and nodding, Zim extended a mechanical arm from his PAK, taking the thin metal loops it held with his free hand. He handed one over to Dib with a cryptic grin before fixing the other around the infant’s neck, taking care not to wake her up.

“…There isn’t any chance I could wear this around my wrist, is there?” the teen asked hesitantly, dangling the slender loop from one finger.

“Does your wrist have anything to do with your respiratory systems?” Zim responded mildly, finishing with the baby’s atmospheric regulator and directing an innocent look at Dib as he started walking.

“Uh, no, but…” The paranormalist trailed off, brows furrowed and a disgruntled frown on his face. “It seems kinda…collar-ish.”

The innocent look remained, and the Irken shrugged a shoulder. “Your imagination, I’d think.” He stuck his tongue out for a moment before stating lightly, “If you’d rather suffocate, Zim could always take it back.”

“No, no, it’s…it’s fine. …Oh, and, just so you know…my house is that way,” Dib informed him, pointing in the direction opposite the one the Irken had been heading. Zim promptly turned on his heel, chin raised haughtily in the air as he corrected his error and pretended he hadn’t made said error at all.

After hesitantly securing the atmospheric not-collar around his neck, the teen jogged after him, falling into step and asking conversationally, “So, do you like her?” He motioned towards the baby as he said this.

Zim glanced up at him, then down to the baby, then back up with a slight shrug and a nod. “She’s okay. Not too smelly, at least.” Dib immediately grinned.

“Oh man, I can’t wait to show you how to change her diaper.”