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Fuck Pig	By : ladylaguna Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > Threesomes/Moresomes Views: 4696 -:- 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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After an indeterminate amount of time, one of the goons came to get Dib's cage. No words were exchanged as he was lifted and carried into a large room and placed in the center. From his vantage-point, squatting within the small confinement, all he could see were high walls. After a few moments, the goon reached in and ripped the Amber off of Dib. For a short time, Dib didn't feel any different at all... He looked down at himself, feeling his chest. The throb was beginning to fade, but he could still feel a softness in the skin there, like a rotten fruit...

Suddenly, one of the goons came out of nowhere; all Dib could see were his feet rushing for him. Before he could react, something heavy hit the solid top of the cage, denting it severely and pressing Dib further down. They were going to kill him, while he was defenseless and confined! Cowards! Anger, severe, damn near irrational, burbled to the top of his chest. The pain radiating through his body was soon forgotten as his cage was attacked again; this time the sharp tip of something that looked like a scythe passed through the bars and he leaned away from it, hissing.

“Come on! Come on! Come on! You pale little Piggy!” He was rattled roughly back and forth, deep taunts and laughter echoing off of the cold walls and high ceiling.

Something within Dib finally snapped and he screamed, pushing up against the top of the cage with his only hand. For a moment, nothing happened; and then the power finally pulsed through him again. The top of the cage blew open and he stood tall, on his own two feet, for the first time since his initial capture.

Eyes glowing, he looked around the room. It was a stadium of sorts; the two goons from before were on either side of him. One was armed with a mallet the size of Dib's torso; the other, that scythe-like weapon. They were both astounded at first, but then sneered, moving to advance on him.

“Never--- NEVER... Not again!” He would never be subjugated again. He would never show weakness or compassion again. With merely the bat of his eyelashes, a burst of energy radiated from his body, throwing both of the huge aliens backwards and slamming them up against the walls. In an instant, Dib had phazed before the first with the mallet, pulling the weapon from both of the alien's hands with his one, rearing back to crush his skull with it.

Suddenly... he heard laughter from above, and a sort of slithery sound.

Looking up, Dib spied the Don. Watching everything from the spectators' wing above. Baring his teeth, he drew back from the alien for a moment... The Don's tentacles were still wiggling, but Dib was unsure what exactly they were supposed to signify.

“Well done. You passed the test,” he called. “I will call off my men if you will spare them your wrath.” The amusement in his voice was clear.

“Test...?” Dib replied, not faltering just yet. The force of his anger was still keeping both of the Don's goons pressed soundly against the walls.

His eye glowing for a moment, the Don answered, “Yes... I had to see if you'd be of any use to me... Those are my two best men that you have in your thrall, Pale One.”

“My name is DIB. Not 'Pale One,' not 'Pig'...” He fell silent as his head began to pound. Too much, too soon... Leaning against the weapon to keep standing, he finally allowed his power to lessen, and the goons slid to the floor.

“Dib... Dib. Yes, Dib. If you would please allow Boritz here to escort you to my office...” The Don then turned and disappeared from the gallery.

Boritz appeared to be the one with the mallet. Standing, he grinned at Dib. “Good show. Unexpected,” he stated, gesturing towards a door adjacent to them. For a moment, Dib hesitated. But he finally sighed and followed, throwing the weapon on the floor with a loud clang.

As they walked down a long hallway that was covered in rich carpeting, Dib tried hard to focus. It seemed that he was so easily distracted by every color, scent and sound now... Occasionally, he caught himself drifting off into a sort of fog, as if he were falling asleep whilst walking. He heard voices here and there... A couple of times he looked up at Boritz, thinking that HE had spoken...

Soon enough he was escorted into what was obviously the Don's office. He was seated on a piece of furniture very akin to a throne, with a high-tech computer console wrapping around it and coming before him much like a desk. There was a large, fluffy... chair, near as Dib could figure, before it. Waving a tentacle at the chair, the Don ordered, “Sit.”

As Dib did so, Boritz handed the Don that piece of Amber. Just looking at it made Dib wince. The Don inspected it for a moment, finally placing it near him atop the console. “Just a reminder of who holds the power here,” he stated plainly, orange eye glittering at the human.

Not having the mental capacity to muster much of a reply to that at the moment, Dib simply raised his head up a little to meet the Don's eye. Here he was, naked again, before strange aliens that may or may not be his saviors... So ironic.

“It seems that you owe me your life,” the Don stated. When Dib still didn't answer, he continued, “I don't know what those Irkens were doing with you, but clearly it wasn't anything good. Knowing that you used to be Zim's... pet, mate, whatever... I can assume that they weren't terribly fond of you.”

Dib finally nodded. “They were not kind to me.”

The goon took his place behind the Don, simply crossing his arms. Tilting his head a little, the Don stated, “Slaves are illegal throughout the Federation, and even if one takes a slave outside of it, the Federation takes it upon itself to rescue that slave. And ruin the business of the man who keeps them.”

“How noble of them,” Dib stated dully. Nobody from the Federation ever bothered to come for HIM.

“Therefore, it would be foolhardy of me to think that I had purchased you as if you were a bauble to be put on display. You are obviously sentient and perfectly capable of rational thought.” The Don leaned forward a little. “It cannot be argued that I purchased you for a pittance. However, that pittance came to me at an incredibly extravagant cost. At that time, five million Irken monies cost me twelve million Federation credits.”

Dib knew how powerful the Irkens had become, and that they were threatening the Federation's power... But he didn't realize just HOW powerful they had been... His brow furrowed at this information, though he didn't quite see how it was relevant to him...

“I was afraid, after the fall of Irk, that I would never get that money back. However, you have given me new hope, my boy.”

Quirking an eyebrow, Dib asked, “And how is that?”

“Would you like to be free, Dib?”

“Of course I would,” Dib stated, lowering his head a bit. “But I suppose you're not going to just let me go, are you?”

Laughing a little, the Don answered, “No. But I will give you an incredibly generous offer... I will allow you to work for me, my talented young friend... I will allow you to work off your debt until you are free.”

“Not a slave... an indentured servant.” Dib rubbed his forehead for a moment, rolling it around in his brain. He finally just laughed, squeezing his eyes shut. “What the hell kinda work would I be doing?”

“The kind only one with your talents can do.”

Looking up at the Don, Dib just grinned. “Am I really all that special?”

“You can heal almost any wound. You can teleport from one place to the next, you can inflict massive damage without exerting much physical effort... You're Meekrob—only without the burden of social responsibility, self-centeredness or Federation loyalty that makes them so damn annoying.”

Then, the all-important question: “And if I refuse?”

Running a tentacle over the Amber, the Don stated, “I'll just kill you. You're worthless to me otherwise.” After a moment, he continued, “But I really would prefer not to. You would be of great use to me... I would love to make back that money I lost.”

Dib mulled it over for ten minutes or so. He didn't really know this guy. The Don of Kharna was likely a rather unscrupulous man, considering that Kharna itself was outside the Federation. However, he was already better off in his current situation than he had been with the Irkens...

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Hmm. Really, you don't.” Boritz grinned at this remark and the Don went on, “But I can tell you're a smart kid. And so I'll say this: My satellite has been around for many Grentnels. And it is very successful. Men like me don't get far in life unless they have good men of their own.” He gestured to Boritz. “And I take good care of my men. They know that my word is binding. I trust them with my life because I treat them well.” Boritz nodded in agreement, his eyes keen.

Biting his lip, Dib finally shrugged. “What choice do I have, really? Alright, fine. Sign me up. It's better than getting killed or tortured I suppose.”

“That's a lad!” the Don guffawed, sliding a tentacle out towards his goon. “Welcome to the family. I have a chamber prepared for you... Boritz will escort you, again. You have three days to rest before we get to Kharna. And then your job begins.”

Once he entered his small chambers, Dib immediately located the bed and slid into it. Boritz said something about food and whatever he needed and etc. but he wasn't listening... The fog was threatening to consume him again. Once the door was shut and he was alone, Dib rolled onto his back and looked around the room. He had a toilet, something that resembled a food processor, and a console... Clothes would've been nice... He'd have to ask about them the next time he saw anyone...

DON'T SLEEP. DON'T SLEEP. DON'T SLEEP.

Rubbing his temples roughly, Dib squeezed his eyes shut. It was okay to sleep now... Nothing bad would happen... But so much time fighting it made his mind reel at the very thought. Sighing softly, he ran his hand over his body, looking it over. The softness in his chest was fading, but the pain was still radiating through his every pore. So long since he had used his powers to control it... Closing his eyes, he concentrated on pushing it all back...

Curiously, he hiked up his legs, running his fingers over his anus. Though it was hard to tell, there seemed to be no damage... Recalling other places he'd been tortured, he inspected. Nothing. Perhaps only the wounds he'd gained before his “death” were the only lasting wounds... Pushing up on his heels, he reached around to his lower back. The scarring was still there... THAT was still there, whatever horrible thing it was.

Falling back against the soft bedding, he groaned.

DON'T SLEEP. DON'T SLEEP. DON'T SLEEP.

“SHUT UP!” he bellowed, pounding his fist against his forehead.

The splitting pain that resounded made him gasp. Pulling his hand back, he looked to see blood splattered across it. Inspection with his fingers revealed that he had split the skin right above his left eye. “I'm going to crack my own fuckin' skull open,” he laughed to himself, forcing his eyes shut.

For a short while, his brain was quiet and he began to drift.

Squirm, Scream, Cry, Squeal...

Gritting his teeth, he rolled onto his side. The room was silent as a tomb.

Squirm, Scream, Cry, Squeal...

Their chants were still THERE. He could still hear Tzin's voice echoing around him... His eyes snapped open and he looked around. No... Tzin wasn't here...

Squirm, Scream, Cry, Squeal.
Squirm, Scream, Cry, Squeal.
You filthy little Fuck Pig.

This was going to be a long trip. He couldn't get the images out of his mind... The things they had done... And he had thought that it would never end. He was always doomed to pass out, to heal, and the cycle would begin again.

There was nobody to wake him that way now. Taking a deep breath, he coiled his hand around his throat. If he could just knock himself out... His fingers would loosen and he would sleep off some of this pain... Heal. Right?

Well, he'd done stupider things.

Choking himself proved harder than he figured it would be. Had he ever given serious thought to choking himself? When he was a kid, he always wondered about weird shit like that. Grunting loudly, he forced a powerful pulse of energy to pass through his fist. Unexpectedly brilliant pain slammed his senses and his brain felt like it was sloshing against the back of his skull. Within seconds, relief came.

* * * * *

His sleep was fitful, but he slept. The majority of his dreams were nonsensical, a strange mish-mash of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Thankfully, he saw very little of Tzin. Though he often heard his voice.

It faded at some point, and Dib found himself standing in darkness.

"Never in my life... Have I ever had anything to care about of my own. My goals were the goals of others. My possessions were but tools, means to an end."

Suddenly those eyes blinked into view again. Dib's heart nearly stopped.

“I thought I understood. I thought this was what I wanted... but I have come to realize that when I shunned the Empire and its ideals... I simply adopted you and yours. Now, without you, what am I left with?”

Zim was standing before him now, regarding him seriously. He was dressed strangely, body entirely covered save for his eyes and the top of his head. He was Dib's height, however. And Dib himself was dressed as he was in youth, with the trenchcoat and silly shirt... And he still had his left arm.

“Tough luck,” Dib finally answered, voice low.

Eyes widening, Zim stammered for a moment. Unable to find a suitable reply, he approached. Dib, for some reason, couldn't find the motivation to move from his spot. Soon the alien's hands were on his upper arms. Shivering, Dib allowed his lip to curl.

“So this is the truest form of my self-loathing. Even you are not safe from it now...”

“It's what you deserve.”

“That's true.” Zim smiled at him, leaning forward to press lips to Dib's. What the hell was this?! He would almost prefer Tzin. His mouth didn't move as Zim kissed him, and a sound of frustration issued from the Irken. His claws traveled gently down the length of Dib's arms, gripping his hips for a moment. A strangled protest finally rose from Dib's throat, but Zim didn't react.

Sighing, Zim slid his fingers along Dib's waistband. “Don't. Just... stay as I remember you... please? Just this last time.” Working at Dib's fly, popping it open, he slid a cool hand within, groping.

“FUCK!” Dib screamed, and the dream fell apart around him.

His eyes snapped open and Dib laid in the deafening silence for a while. He wasn't aware of how long he'd been out, but the lights seemed dimmer. And the pain had finally subsided somewhat... Inspection of his forehead showed that the split had healed. With only a little bit of stiffness, he managed to sit upright.

After all this time, he'd had a dream about ZIM. It didn't make sense... Growling, he looked around the room for some means of distracting himself. If he couldn't sleep, he'd have to find some other way of keeping the voices at bay. Finally, Dib fetched the console. Sitting atop the bed, leaned back against the wall and some pillows, he perched it on his lap.

Would he be able to contact anyone? Surely his activities would be monitored. Sighing, he flicked it on and went to the Fednet page... At the top of the news column was the date... He stared at it for a moment, trying to remember the equivalence to human time...

Three years. He'd been in that fucking torture device for three years.

By now, he was sure his family would think he was dead. And Tak... Swallowing hard, he opened up the mail program... He could at least contact them and let them know he was still alive... Though he found that outgoing messages were blocked. Message board posts were blocked as well. He couldn't communicate with the outside world.

Sighing, he contented himself with browsing the Fednets, looking up information. Nothing much had changed, surprisingly, in the time he'd been “gone.” Though... he was surprised to find his name popping up even more frequently than before. Before long, he found out why; Valerie had finally published his memoirs, for the universe to see. It had become quite popular... unsurprising considering the public opinion of him he remembered from before. Strangely enough, however, nobody bothered to mention that Dib had been alive for at least a brief period of time. He supposed nobody on Nirvana let that one out of the bag... Even his time hunting Irkens with Tak was largely left unnoticed. Tak got all the glory on that one.

If he were still alive, it likely would have hurt sales considerably. And honestly, he was happier to remain anonymous.

There continued to be speculation about him, about Zim, and about if what they had done was right and moral. Of course, the majority of the universe seemed to agree that the Irkens were bad and they deserved what they got. Stories from Dib's memoirs were already being exaggerated to prove or disprove such points. He was interested to see how things would develop over the coming months... for him and for the universe.

Finally distracted enough from his former line of thought, Dib managed to sleep again.

* * * * *

Once GIR got the room cleaned and all was calm, Megami felt that she was at a good stopping point. Putting the console safely aside and rising, she poked her head from the door. No sign of movement from anyone. Venturing out into the hall, she saw that Dib's door was open, and he was still lounging in his chair. Biting her lip, she entered with a soft knock on the doorjamb.

“C'mon in, sweetheart,” he stated quietly, though he didn't move a muscle. Feet propped against the sill, he stared out a large window at the stars. Megami approached slowly, finally coming to a stop behind his chair.

Sighing softly, Megami finally whispered, “...I'm sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“Everything.” She slumped. “Everything that happened to you.”

Grinning, he looked back at her. “Did you finish the story already?”

“I'm... I'm not entirely done.”

Holding out an arm, Dib summoned her again. Hesitantly, she came around to the side of the chair, and he managed to coax her into his lap. She felt quite awkward at first... but... there was a familiarity to it, and she finally relaxed, leaning against his warm body. Curling his arms around her, Dib managed to relax, himself. He smelled so much of smoke and alcohol... but, mixed with his own scent, it took on a sort of warm quality that lulled her.

“There's a lot I didn't write. A lot... that was too painful for me, even then.” Megami looked out towards the stars, listening intently. “Strange, though, how when you're free of the situation... and you look back... how much worse a lot of it seems... than it did when you were in the thick of it.”

“Not me,” Megami laughed quietly. “I just look back and think about how dumb I was.”

Shaking his head, Dib gave her a little squeeze. “I was the idiot. Everything I believed... everything I thought was right... I question it more and more every day. But I've learned that regrets only drag me down. I cast them all away long ago.”

Perhaps there was a part of her that should be resentful, but she couldn't find the heart to feel anything but... love and admiration and respect for this man. Even if he'd made dumb decisions... More than anything, he was a victim of circumstance, she felt.

“I didn't write a lot about my time on Nirvana. I didn't write about how hard it was for me to give you up... about how you cried and reached out for me the evening before I left... when Valerie was putting you to bed... you didn't like the fact that we were being separated at all.” Drawing a ragged breath, he whispered, “And then I just up and left you the next morning.”

Frowning, Megami considered saying nothing. But she finally stated, “...I don't remember any of it, really.” Though she'd said it as a means of making him feel better... that all that trauma she experienced was forgotten... she realized that it meant he'd been thoroughly forgotten too.

Swallowing a little, Dib urged Megami to stand again. “I think I'm going to call it a night, kiddo. You probably should, too. I know you've been traveling a lot onship, lately... It's good to keep a regular sleep schedule so that you don't get bad lag.”

Megami nodded. “Night.”

“Night.” Reaching out, Dib took Meg's hand a last time. Looking up at her, he said, “...I love you.” Before Megami could answer, he raised a finger to silent her. “...I just wanted to say it. You don't have to answer just because I said it...”

“I know.” Smiling in reply, she simply squeezed his hand. Then she left, closing the door behind her. After leaning on it for a moment, she was able to regain her composure. That didn't last for long, however, when she came upon Vermeil's door. It was standing wide open. There was really no use, in his opinion, in closing it. Dib could get in if he wanted; he had no privacy.

Peeking into the room, she saw that he was lying on his side atop the bed, curled somewhat upon himself. Staring blankly at the wall, he only flicked an antler when she looked in. For a moment, Megami debated leaving him there. But she simply couldn't... Though, as she entered the room, she said nothing. Climbing onto the bed, she sat behind him, curling her legs up before her.

After a few moments, Vermeil sighed heavily and closed his eyes. Though she knew he just wanted her to go away, Megami stayed put. Rubbing his side softly, she played fingers over the soft leather of his suit... feeling the skin and bone and thin layer of muscle that lie underneath. He really was... she realized now... he really was fragile. He was just a kid, like her... Hand flattening against the side of his ribcage, she felt his body rise and fall with breath.

“...I knew,” he finally conceded, his voice barely audible.

Fingers beginning to move again, Megami said nothing.

“I heard his screams. I knew. I knew what Tzin was doing... I knew it was heinous and twisted and nigh unforgivable. Even then, even small and ignorant and selfish I knew.”

“It wasn't your fault or your responsibility--”

“Save it, Nymph. Just shut your fucking mouth.”

Lip curling, she did. But her hand moved then. It rose. He saw it, and when it came down, he didn't move. He didn't flinch when she cracked him soundly upside the head with her little fist. “There!” she cried, gripping one of his sensitive antennae and jerking hard. “Is this what you want? Punishment. I'll punish you.”

It was so absurd that he finally laughed, though it was a mirthless sound. Jerking his head away, he snarled, “You're an idiot.”

“You didn't flinch.”

“Eh?”

“When I moved to hit you.” She couldn't resist and went to rub the area she'd thumped with a soft touch. “...he beat you, didn't he? Tzin did. Like he beat on Tenn.”

Rolling his eyes, Vermeil finally turned to lie on his back. Looking up at her, he said, “Don't talk about things you don't understand.”

“So, the answer is 'yes'.”

Shaking his head, Vermeil glared. “Tenn bore the brunt of his wrath. That which he didn't spend on the Fuck-- on Dib, that is. Tzin trained me to fight, however. I did take a few blows during that time.”

So the answer was “yes.” Pouting, Megami finally lay down to curl up beside him, butting her head up beneath his chin and laying it on his chest. Though his demeanor still seemed rather put-upon, Vermeil finally wrapped his arms around her. Satisfied with this, Megami sought to twine their legs together... “You are a good person, Vermeil.”

“I told you to save it.”

“Boy, all your charm disappeared real quick. I think I might almost miss the old days when you pretended to be Captain Suave...” Smiling, she gazed up at him. All she got was, as expected, a glare in reply. For a time, they both lay in such a way, in complete silence... their vision soon finding other things to focus on, both too full of thought to sleep.

* * * * * *

Sorry I'm not updating so quickly. I have art-related things I should be working on instead, but I finally said "FUCK IT" and finished up this chapter XD I'm also finding it hard to figure out exactly how much of this story I need to tell and what can be skipped over. I'm a loser. I could easily make this thing, like, 900 chapters if I just wrote out every damn thing that goes on in my head.

Review Replies~

Howler: As you can hopefully see, Vermeil's cloud of denial is beginning to part. As for my site, I am looking into getting a gallery script so I can update the art more quickly... But I fail at HTMLing.

wolfboy: Here it is! I didn't hurry ;; Sorry. I hope it's worth the wait nonetheless. I'll see what I can do about keeping the next one from taking so long.
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