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Capax Infiniti	By : IJX Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 2626 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Capax Infiniti
Disclaimer: Invader Zim and its characters are, of course, property of Jhonen Vasquez and his fantastic production team. Any resemblance my original characters might bear to real individuals is purely coincidental.

Chapter 2
“Dad, I’ll be right back, I swear!” Jex shouted. “I just want to look at the lake again!”
She was ten years old and they were camping. They had done this every summer since she was about five years old, much to her mother’s chagrin. She would have preferred her daughter laughing shrilly over boy bands and plastic toys, but if they were to go camping, the least they could do was visit an actual camp site. But no, her husband insisted on taking their little girl into the middle of the wilderness so that they could bond over “real camping,” whatever that was.
Jex loved it. This was the highlight of her year and the reason she looked forward to summer break from school. Her favorite part? The lake. The way the light sparkled off its surface during sunrise, cooling off in its waters, spending long hours in a canoe with her father while he pointed out every species of bird and fish they encountered. Every morning she’d take off just before the sun peeked over the top of the trees so that she could watch the sun’s magnificent ascent illuminate the lake.
She settled into her usual spot, sitting on a large rock outcropping overlooking the water. There was a scent that filled the air this morning, subtle at first and then it seemed to inundate her senses. It was a wonderful smell, earthy and sweet, and it was so comforting that it felt like it would wrap its arms around her and lull her back to sleep. What was it? Not flowers, but gentle like that...
She heard a loud rumbling and the earth began to tremble.
“Jex,” a voice echoed in her ears.
She looked around, confused as she grappled to steady herself, losing her footing in the tremor.
“Jex!” the voice repeated urgently.
“Who’s there?!” She couldn’t tell which way was which as the world seemed to tumble around her; she was confused and dizzy and—
“HUMAN, WAKE YOURSELF.”
Jex opened her eyes slowly; her eyelids felt like they were weighted down by lead. When her vision focused, she was met with the sight of giant, smooth red eyes staring back at her. Starting violently and sitting up, she quickly scooted back on the couch until she nearly fell over the arm. Zim was standing over her, his antennae straight up and alert, hands on her shoulders. She had been awakened by the alien shaking her.
“You’ve been sleeping for three hours,” he said reproachfully.
“CHRIST,” she said, “you scared me to death!”
Zim blinked and stood up, releasing her shoulders. “Yes, well, next time you should wake up when I tell you to, then.”
His voice slithered coolly in and out of her mind as she tried to pull herself into full consciousness, fighting the urge to slip back into sleep. Her exhaustion left her with far less tolerance than she had earlier in the morning.
“I wouldn’t have been so exhausted if I hadn’t been mugged in the middle of the night by an ALIEN, electrocuted, shouted at and threatened repeatedly with torture and DEATH!” Her blood was boiling at his audacity and his violent intrusion into her life. She’d been living a perfectly normal, happy, pleasant life, and although the idea that aliens do indeed exist would have normally thrilled her, THIS was not how she wanted to find out. And now this short green fucker was denying her sleep, for crying out loud. It was too much.
She stood up to face him, staring at his bewildered features. “You know what, you can KILL ME for all I care, I am not helping such a megalomaniacal, vainglorious asshole as you, alien or not!” She was losing control of herself, blinded by pure rage and the confusion of her dream blending into the waking world and that smell she kept being inundated by what was it why was it so familiar and why did the alien choose her how was she going to escape what the fuck was going on and what happened to normalcy--

Jex raised her fists and started wailing on Zim.
Or at least, she attempted to. She got in one good punch to his shoulder as he dodged her somewhat unexpected tantrum and he subsequently, calmly caught each wrist in his hands. He gripped her tightly, remaining perfectly placid and stern as he stared at her.
Her long brown hair was hanging down around her face in a mess as she hung her head, wrists bound tightly by Zim’s hands. She was losing her mind; this was all far too much to process in the span of a mere few hours, and oh God, her traumatized body was so exhausted. The left side of her ribcage throbbed with each inhalation and each movement of her torso, her throat was bruised from Zim’s grip and her entire body ached.
She lifted her head to meet Zim’s eyes with hers. His harsh, apparently unemotional eyes. Her own face was streaked with tears, eyes bloodshot from lack of rest and emotional strain. “Fuck you,” she spat, spittle flying. “You’re a coward, hiding in my apartment and beating me like a plaything.”
At this, Zim grabbed her throat again, one eye twitching in anger. She cried out in pain, and he simply pushed her backward. He did not topple her, though—he simply pushed her back into the next room of the apartment. He tightened his grip and then shoved her inside.
“Pull yourself together, human slave, or you won’t see another sunrise.” He closed the door to her bedroom with a slam and commanded through the door, “Sleep off your foolishness.”
She was stunned. She was certain that her outburst had been her last action in this life, that he would kill her for what he would see as insubordination. She had been desperate to spit in his face, to tell him to go to Hell, to scream and shout and protest her fate as he sent her to meet it. To go out kicking and screaming.
Yet here she was in her bedroom with the order to go back to sleep. Nothing seemed certain, neither life nor death.
***
Zim paced back and forth in the human’s apartment, stir crazy and desperate. He was unsuccessful at reaching GIR, so his first instinct was to kill the female and go back to headquarters to investigate. Yet he couldn’t risk being apprehended by the agents who could easily be in the vicinity searching for him. Here, at least for the time being, he was hidden. Safe. GIR would be fine, but the thought of the humans infiltrating his home base made him claw at the walls in desperation. If the mission was compromised he would never be able to return to Irk. He couldn’t use his disguise; he mindlessly left it at headquarters in his rush to grab GIR.
And now he was not only trapped in a human dwelling but with a human. He shuddered in revulsion while taking in the full scope of his surroundings. Why hadn’t he killed her? Sliced her head from her shoulders when she dared raise her hand against the great Invader Zim? He continued to pace. He was hoping to elicit her help in returning him to his house, but it was absurd that he would let such insubordination go unpunished. So absurd, in fact, that he was tempted to enter her bedroom and pin her to the bed while she slept, like a butterfly on display. Let her awaken to the horror of knowing she would bleed out while impaled by one of his supplemental metal appendages. Perverse pleasure spread across his face at the thought of inflicting death and pain upon the disgusting creature that dared question him, let alone raise her voice, her hands to him.
In fact, yes. That’s what he would do. He didn’t need her help. Help from a human? Ugh! The very thought was revolting and Zim was appalled that he had entertained it.
He strode over to her bedroom door, opening it quietly. She was indeed asleep already, her body and mind utterly exhausted from that night’s exertions. A wicked grin spread across his face as his PAK opened and four spindly metallic legs emerged and spread behind him. Two of these legs served to prop him up and raise him above the bed, while the other two loomed above the sleeping woman. He would take great pleasure in watching her insolent little face contort in misery while her body squirmed. How dare she spit in the face of ZIM?
He suppressed a triumphant laugh; he wanted to catch her by surprise with her gruesome fate rather than wake her prematurely. It would be exquisite to witness her horror when she cried out in pain and saw the sadistic malice in his face. To watch the realization dawn on her that she was pinned, impaled. The butterfly analogy was pure artistic genius; he would trap her, smearing her disobedience across her face in the form of her own blood, tearing her to pieces at his whim. Perhaps he would impale her arms first to prolong her misery, dissecting her from the bowls upward.
He stabbed the pillow next to her head with his left front robotic leg to stabilize himself as he lowered his body above hers. His face was once again mere inches from hers, his hands planted next to her head, his fourth spider leg primed and ready to pierce her right arm. On second thought, he wanted her to open her eyes and see him, to know that he, Zim, was the shape of her demise. Terrorizing a helpless creature was an art. Although he did suspect she was not exactly helpless, it was all the more reason to dispose of her before she could cause him any further irritation or trouble.
He prepared to wake her with the first thrust of the metallic leg, when she said something in her sleep. His curiosity got the better of him and he concentrated on listening, his invisible eyebrow raising in silent question. There was all the time in the world to torture and kill her, after all. Perhaps she would utter something useful.
Jex stirred slightly. “...ipsen.”
Zim cocked his head in confusion. Ipsen? This was not a human word he was familiar with, and he was indeed familiar with most of the major Earth languages and dialects. Maybe it was a name. Either way, it didn't matter. More than curious he was bloodthirsty. It had been far too long since he had doled out ritual punishment and this was the perfect opportunity.

He leaned in closely again, his excitement rising at the thought of her fear and terror upon seeing his face. Once again he prepared to inflict the first stab of many upon her frail human form, when Jex moved. Still sleeping, she quietly rose her hands and placed them on the green skin of his face. He was so stunned he just stared at her. What in the Tallest’s names was she doing?
Using her hands, she gently bowed his head to meet her own forehead and... she wept. Her tears were silent, but they streamed freely from the corners of her eyes. “I remember,” she said. “Ipsen.” She exhaled and her breathing shuddered with emotion.
Zim felt frozen in place. What was this human doing? This was absurd. He prepared to pull himself back so that he could complete his task, raising his metallic leg murderously, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Part of him, probably a greater part than he would care to admit, wanted to find out what was behind her peculiar actions. But there was no way he would admit that to himself, so he simply used his arachnid legs to hold himself up while he took his own hands from her pillow, placed them gently on her wrists so as not to wake her, and lowered her hands back down to her own body. She sniffled in her sleep and curled onto her side like a child in the middle of a fitful dream. The previously powerful, animalistic rage he had witnessed in her was gone and she was nothing short of pitiful. The strangest thing was that he did not feel disgust at this blatant display of weakness but was instead filled with unexpected concern.
Deeply disturbed by both her odd behavior and his reaction to it, Zim pulled himself back, retracted his metallic legs and left the bedroom, leaving the door open.
Jex continued to dream of a lake, a forest and a scent she could remember but not identify, filling her with wonder, fear and sadness.
***
The dim light of dusk filled Jex’s bedroom and she stirred. Consciousness slowly returned to her and as she stretched beneath the sheets, opening her eyes, she was honestly relieved that she’d managed to sleep the entire day away. Her ribs still throbbed and her body still ached from the trauma of electrocution, but she felt refreshed.
It was then that the realization, the remembrance, of exactly what it was that had happened to her in the early hours of the morning. Nausea overtook her and she threw the covers from her body, running from the bedroom and into the bathroom. Lurching over the toilet, she retched and emptied the contents of her stomach into the bowl... nothing but watery acid.
She heard a faint click and a sizzle from behind her, and the most sickening kind of dread fell upon her. Please, God, not again. She wiped her mouth and put her hands in the air, palms open, still kneeling in front of the toilet.
“Get up,” Zim ordered. “I don’t know what you’re doing but I want no sudden movements from you.”
Jex slowly rose to her feet, put her hands behind her head, and turned ever so cautiously to face the alien in her bathroom doorway. Her body was trembling with revulsion at the thought of being electrocuted again and the pure physical strain of having just vomited on an empty stomach. “I was getting sick,” she said evenly but with no trace of defiance in her voice.
Zim continued to point the alien taser at her, aiming for her chest. He stared at her for a full thirty seconds or so before lowering the weapon and leaving the bathroom doorway. Jex exhaled in relief and braced herself against the wood of the door frame. This was ridiculous. Why couldn’t the one alien she encountered be less like the fuckers from Independence Day and more like E.T.?
Collecting herself, she decided to stand tall and figure a way out of this, or at least a path to survival. Fate would take her where it wanted and vomiting in her bathroom would only delay whatever inevitability lied ahead of her. She would do herself no good falling apart at the seams.
After brushing her teeth, Jex made her way back into the living room and found Zim standing at the window, one hand clasped around the other wrist behind his back, watching the sunset. She had a very clear view of the curious little oblong backpack he wore and wondered what he kept in there. His alien, uh, stuff... she guessed? She even dared wonder if she would be able to gain access to it later if necessary. She might meet her death with this absurdly little green man from outer space, but she would not go down without a fight.
“I want to wait for another few hours and then you’re going to take me back to my house,” Zim stated without turning around. “We will not be able to use your vehicle as the authorities who would apprehend me have certainly identified its make, model and color. I will need a disguise and you will provide me with it.”
Jex took a moment to process what he was saying, and then she was flabbergasted at the suggestion that they would be able to sufficiently conceal his obviously alien features from the public. And how exactly was she supposed to take him to his house undetected without a car, disguise or no disguise?
“The only means of transportation I can think of would be the subway or the bus, and both are thronging with people,” Jex explained. “I can’t imagine how we could possibly disguise you well enough to transport you that way.”
Zim’s antennae twitched. Jex cleared her throat. “I mean, no offense...” she said with hesitation; the last thing she wanted was to anger him again. “You are another species, though. It’s not like we can just throw on a wig and some contact lenses.”
At that, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Zim turned around and looked at her, an odd little smile on his face. He actually chuckled and said, “Yes, that’s true. Nevertheless, you seem to be a resourceful human and I know you will think of something. I don’t trust you enough to let you roam the city in search of the elements of my disguise, so you will have to find them here. You will be successful if you want to prolong your life.”
Searing hot anger rose in her chest and threatened to color her face. This was a ridiculous assertion and he knew it, but he was obviously enjoying toying with her. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. What was he playing at?
Oh yes, Zim was enjoying this. He may not yet be able to watch her squirm under his implements of torture, but he could certainly make her feel uncomfortable in the meantime. Furthermore, he believed what he had said—she would be able to concoct a suitable disguise if her behavior thus far was any indication of her resourcefulness. There must be innovation lurking beneath that feisty persona somewhere. He had her, so he would use her.
She lifted her chin slightly in prideful determination. “Fine then,” she said. “I will.” She left the room.
Zim returned to staring at the city outside, wondering when he might receive a status update from GIR, antennae prickling at every small sound in the apartment as he anticipated his fully enhanced (thanks to his mechanical genius) communication device springing to life with a transmission. Unfortunately, nothing came and Zim’s own attempts at sending outgoing messages had gone unanswered.
After about ten minutes, Jex returned to the living room with her arms full of clothing and random objects. “Okay, Zim,” she said, a snide tone daring to creep into her words. “This is the best I can do. If you don’t like it, you can kill me or whatever. You’re going to anyway.”
Zim turned to face her and a look of puzzled amusement spread across his face. This attitude was certainly interesting. He could certainly punish her for her continued insolence, but he was far too curious to see what paltry little getup the human had come up with and he was entertained by her delusional surge of confidence . “Heh,” he uttered, looking at the pile as she dropped it onto the table next to his communication device.
“Well, you might as well sit down,” she said, sitting on the couch and gesturing to the spot next to her. “You’ll probably need my help.”
His antennae twitched and he gave her a suspicious look.
“Oh relax,” she said, gaining her confidence back. She flipped open a rectangular case she had brought in with the clothes. “It’s makeup. You can’t go out there with green skin if you don’t want to be ‘apprehended’.”
With a slightly defiant look at the notion of being commanded by this human female, he reluctantly set aside his pride and sat on the couch next to her. This was not at all a comfortable suggestion for him, letting this human apply makeup to his skin. He was accustomed to letting his computer apply the disguise in one fell swoop, and at the mere press of a button.
They turned to face each other, she hiding the small pleasure she was deriving from the role reversal of making him uncomfortable, he failing to stifle a cringe as she reached up to touch his face.
“I’m not going to bite,” she said with a sigh. “I want to see your skin in the light of the lamp so I can figure out what’ll provide the best coverage.”
He did not think she would bite and the suggestion was infuriating. An Irken Invader shying from the bite of a paltry human being, HAH! No, he was cringing because the thought of being touched again by this disgusting creature was nauseating.
no no that’s not it you find it curious and you don’t want to admit it and you want to see—
Zim’s face contorted into a look of frustration while she dug through her makeup. No, he most certainly did not like this. The idea was laughable. Hahahaha. Yes. The idea made his skin crawl, in fact.
Jex set a small container on the table along with a couple of brushes, grabbed a hair tie from the box, and pulled her long hair back from her face into a ponytail. Her disheveled hair had been hiding her features, but now they were in full view. She was really quite beautiful, for a human anyway. There was a softness and a fierceness to her looks; she appeared far younger than he knew she was but there was also something defiant in her face. A desire to live, probably. Fighting against the fate he was going to dole out when her usefulness had expired.
“Okay,” she said, picking up the bottle. She poured a small amount of liquid makeup on the back of her hand and exhaled slowly. She seemed to be steadying herself, centering herself. And why wouldn’t she? Zim had threatened her life if this experiment was a failure.
She grabbed a brush, scooted closer to him and then lifted her gaze to meet his. Her right hand held the brush, dipping it into the liquid on her left hand before raising the bristles to his face. His gloved hand instinctively flew up and grabbed her wrist violently, sending a few small splatters of the liquid makeup across her couch. Jex was startled as he stared into her eyes menacingly. Zim did not like this; it made him supremely uncomfortable and he wasn’t sure it was worth it to let this human mess with his face. On the other hand, this was probably his only chance at getting back to headquarters without GIR's help.
After Zim’s face folded into a series of contortions that Jex could only assume were a reflection of some internal conflict, he relented and let her wrist go.
Hesitating briefly, Jex rose the brush to his face and painted the first stroke. She moved the brush in circular motions against his green skin, doing her best to blend the color into his cheek well enough to cover the green tint. Unfortunately, the bristles were leaving streaks of makeup akin to paintbrush strokes.
Feeling panic creep into her chest, Jex stopped.
“What?” Zim said impatiently. “Have on with it, get it over with.”
Jex fidgeted with the brush for a second and looked at the streaked makeup on his face, doing her best to remain calm. She could try using her fingers, but she was afraid. If that didn’t work, she would surely be killed or at least electrocuted for her incompetence. Or something else, some other form of torture he had yet to spring on her, no doubt.
Taking a deep breath and trying to ignore his looks of uncertainty and impatience, she lifted her hand and touched his face. Zim cringed under her touch but did not stop her. Spreading the makeup with her fingers was much more effective than using the brush, and she felt herself exhale with utter relief. This may actually work. The coverage wasn’t perfect, but in the cover of night and the poor lighting of public transportation, hopefully no one would notice.
She dipped two of her fingers in the makeup on her left hand again and touched the other side of his face. Her movements were soft and gentle, as was necessary for cosmetic application. She didn’t wear heavy layers of makeup like many women her age, but she did know how to use it. In her peripheral vision, she noticed Zim’s antennae lowering to what she might assume to be a relaxed position, down behind his head.
Actually, that wasn’t far from accurate. Zim had succumbed to the fact that allowing Jex to touch his face would be necessary to successfully disguise himself from human eyes, and at first her touch filled him with alarm. He was unaccustomed to being this close to a human, these loathsome creatures he regarded as no more than vermin to be exploited and exterminated when his plan came to fruition. Yet here he was, under the care of this strange female, being treated with what felt like tenderness. He knew she was only following his orders and that her touch was in accordance with whatever technique she needed to employ for the application of his disguise. Still, the effect of this unfamiliar experience was utterly intoxicating and not at all nauseating as he would have anticipated.
After a few minutes of this, he saw Jex draw back from him with an expression nothing short of alarmed.
“Um... Zim? Your um... your...” she gestured at his head.
Zim jolted himself out of his reverie and immediately felt rage beginning to build. What was she going on about?! With as much intimidation as he could muster he demanded, “WHAT DID YOU DO, HUMAN?”
Doing her best to remain seated instead of backing away from the angry extraterrestrial in her face, she nervously fumbled for the hand mirror in her makeup case and thrust it at Zim in a panic. “I don’t know! Here, look!”
He took the mirror and looked into it, immediately furious at what he saw. Part of his face was thoroughly covered with the makeup she had been applying, but that was not what she had been pointing at. His antennae were vibrating, generating a quiet hum which was slowing down now that he had been stirred into anger. No, not anger. He was enraged by the implication. It was preposterous.
Shoving the mirror at Jex, he bit his tongue and commanded her to continue. “Finish your assignment, human,” he spat with disgust.
The manner in which his antennae had been humming was the Irken equivalent of blushing.
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