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VINDICATION	By : Florville Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 29601 -:- 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.

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Chapter 31: River in Egypt

*This chapter is for Makota*

Zim sat at a table in his lab with his pak before him, wearing his gloves, uniform pants and boots. He was too sore to even attempt pulling the shirt on, especially with his entire torso bandaged the way it was. Sighing heavily, he started assessing the damage to the technology inside, growing more and more overwhelmed. He estimated the damage at almost one third…this was going to take him days to repair! And with the Octagon liable to be evacuated in the next 48 hours, he couldn’t afford that kind of time…

Groaning softly, Zim folded his arms on the table and buried his face in them. It was absolutely hopeless. No pak, and no ship…and no source of help other than the Dib-human. The mission was doomed. If only he’d listened…

Dib stepped out of the elevator, walking down the corridor towards the lab with a bag of chips and two Irken sodas, one for himself and one for Zim. He was hoping to distract Zim from his work, if only for a little while…

…but when he saw Zim’s tall frame hunched over the table, he stopped in his tracks, standing in the doorway.

“Zim?”

The Irken’s antennae twitched, but he didn’t lift his head.

Dib walked over and set the snacks down on the table, reaching out and touching Zim’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Zim shuddered, his antennae lying limp against his head. “No.”

Dib looked at the dented pak, then back at Zim. “Can it be repaired?”

Sighing heavily, Zim lifted his head, looking hopelessly at the broken pak. “Yes…but it’s going to take days…”

“Then what’s wrong?” Dib asked softly.

Zim flashed Dib an angry look, his eyes narrowed and his antennae stiff. “You don’t understand how crucial a pak is to an Invader, human, and you never will. If this thing were irreparable, I may as well be dead.” He slammed a fist angrily on the table, then sighed heavily. “I won’t be able to help you with the Octagon, Dib-worm. My pak won’t be fully functional before then.”

Dib blinked at him, then ran a hand through his hair, the swoop hanging down in his eyes. “Oh…so you’re saying that you can’t go without it, then.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Dib-worm.”

Dib took a deep breath and then nodded. “All right. I can go myself…but I may need GIR to come along and help me. Is…is that all right?”

Zim’s eyes narrowed. “I should be able to maintain the base’s defense systems while he is gone, yes” He frowned. “But if you let anything happen to him I’ll—”

Dib raised his hands placatingly. “I won’t, trust me.”

“That’s the problem, human. I don’t.”

Dib sighed, his shoulders slumping a little as he looked down at the floor. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his baggy jeans, trying to think of something to say.

Zim looked at him for a long time, then turned away, starting to work on his pak again. Looking to the side, he noticed the snacks. “What are those?”

Dib followed Zim’s gaze and smiled weakly. “They’re for us. I figured you might need to take a break.”

Zim snorted. “Not likely. I can’t afford to take—”

“But you already said yourself that you’re not going to the Octagon…” Dib moved up behind him, slipping his arms gently around the Irken’s slim waist. “So you basically have no time restriction now. I think that means you can afford to take a break.”

Zim’s antennae twitched as he looked down at the human’s arms around him.

Dib gently brushed his lips along the curve of Zim’s neck, one arm wrapped loosely around Zim’s chest, the other around his waist. He slipped his hand down and flipped the release on the uniform pants open, slowly sliding his hand inside.

Zim caught his breath, stiffening. “What…what do you think you’re doing, Dib-beast?! Release me!” He tried to pull away, grunting in pain when the Dib’s grip tightened, putting pressure on the bruises he’d incurred in the accident the previous night.

“I’m trying to get you to relax.” Dib murmured, stroking his fingertips over the lips concealing Zim’s member, pleased when the Irken shuddered against him.

“I don’t need to re—gahhh!” He arched his back when Dib’s fingers dipped into the protective sheath and rubbed gently against the tip of his soft member, which immediately started to stiffen under the careful attentions.

“Like hell you don’t. C’mon.”

“Where?” Zim snapped. “I told you, I’m busy.”

Dib stepped back, putting his hands on his hips. “Your bed, unless you want me doing this to you on the table.”

Zim’s eyes narrowed and he fastened his pants again, scowling, pulling his pak forward and starting to work on it again. “I don’t want you to do anything to me, Dib-worm. Go do your…somethings…somewhere else.”

Dib smirked and shook his head, grabbing one of the Irken sodas. “Suit yourself. I’ll be in my quarters if you need me.”

“Don’t count on it.” Zim muttered, the little torch flashing as he started to cut through the damaged material.
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