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The Irken Anatomy	By : ladylaguna Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 4135 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Zim and all related characters - Viacom... All unrelated characters � Jenn L. No profit is gained from this writing.

Chapter List
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Anticipating that Zim would agree to her idea, Ninnehla set up the necessary facilities. Zim wanted little to do with Kharna’s general population, so a clean room was established on the upper level, down the hall from Dib’s quarters.

After a short discussion about how much pain Zim could tolerate at once, they decided to do his body in two sections: the trunk and limbs. Ninnehla had reservations about dousing his head, so the scar on his cheek would remain permanently.

Zim worked quite hard at casting off his old defeated attitude. When they arrived at the clean room on the next afternoon, he immediately began to disrobe. In the center of the room sat a chamber equipped with jets that would douse him in the base Ninnehla had created. Two assistants stood by with pads to slough off the dead tissue that would result.

Ninnehla approached with a needle and Zim shrank away. “I advise you to take this anesthetic, Lord Zim. The pain will be quite intense.”

“I have no need for such things!” Zim protested. Ninnehla looked to Dib helplessly and the man merely smiled and shrugged. Zim would have to learn on his own.

Into the chamber he stepped, grabbing the handles provided for him. The first blast covered his arms and legs. Hissing, he clung to the handles for dear life. While his skin still glistened, the girls jogged in and scrubbed him down. The pain was so intense that he yowled and nearly stopped there.

“The best is yet to come, Zim!” Dib called. When the Irken’s limbs were pale and raw, they closed him in for another blast. When the first rain of liquid hit his chest, he squalled and immediately lost consciousness.

He awoke in Dib’s spacious bed, its owner seated nearby on a console. Without looking up, Dib quipped, “I am assuming you’ll go with the drugs next time.”

Every other day, they repeated this process. For the first couple of weeks, Zim could hardly move afterward. Aside from periods in which he left to do business, Dib remained by Zim’s side, ensuring all his needs were met. There was no intimacy, of course, as Zim was in too much pain. But just having Dib stay by his side was much more important.

“What am I to you?”

Though Dib surely knew what Zim was driving at, he played dumb. “You’re Zim. Has that stuff fried your brain?”

Able to sit up (but not much else), Zim leaned forward, peering at him as he sat perched on the edge of the bed. “When I can care for myself again, what will you do with me? Are you just doing this for me out of guilt?”

“Zim, I assure you that I have not felt any emotion even resembling guilt for many years.” That wasn’t exactly true. He felt guilt over leaving his daughter on Nirvana… But he’d been trying hard not to think of her. He hadn’t heard from her… not a word one… in all this time. What had Vermeil shown her to turn her away from him?

Dib’s thousand-yard stare just confused Zim more. Balling up his fists, he fell back against the pillows. Laughing, Dib turned to loom over him, arms on either side. “I meant what I said… You’re Zim to me. As much as it kills me to say it, you occupy a part of my psyche that can never be erased, no matter how hard I try. You’re a part of me, just as I’m a part of you, and it will always be that way.”

“Does that mean… you love me? You still love me?”

“Jesus… Now I understand how you felt all those years ago.” Brow furrowing, he studied Zim’s features. “Do you really think I’m going to abandon you once you’re feeling better—after traipsing back across the universe with you? This whole operation is a significant investment on my part, you know.”

Antennae perking forward, Zim tried to understand what he was trying to communicate. It took a bit of digging in his databanks, but he remembered that time ‘all those years ago.’ “I had told you that… love only ends in ruin, didn’t I?”

“For once, you were right about something.” Dib moved to pull back slightly, but Zim reached up, pulling him down again.

“I meant what I said back then, too… that I’d give you anything you wanted if you’d just stay with me. It’s still true, Dib… whatever you want. Just name it.” Not that he had anything to give at this point; and Dib had all the riches he ever needed.

Despite this, the human grinned. “Right now… I want you to shut the fuck up.” And his lips covered Zim’s.

During his time on Solstice, Zim had gone over and over those old days in his mind. He almost fell into that trap again, but realized that times really had changed. Back then, Dib was just a smeet, really… He wanted someone to love and accept him, to guide him. Now he needed something much different. A true companion. He understood what Dib meant now, when he had expressed distaste for all those syrupy and romantic things. Zim refused to dwell on the past anymore. Real love didn’t have to be quantified or shouted from the rooftops. Real love was companionship, support… and that’s what Dib gave him now.

A month and a half into the treatment, Zim’s skin was almost completely healed. With therapy, his range of movement improved a thousand-fold. He could crouch! He could turn his head through its full range of motion! He could wear real clothing!

Unfortunately, he had no real clothing. Dib finally nudged him into ordering some by bringing a tailor to the upper level. At first, Zim was reluctant… but after seeing some sketches he began to really get involved, dictating exactly what sort of magnificent clothing the young man should make for his svelte Irken form.

Mostly he ended up with more tunics and pants like he always used to wear in the Empire. Dib merely shook his head at Zim’s selections. “Don’t you want to wear some clothes more like mine? Clothes you can wear… Out and about with me?”

Zim didn’t like that idea at all, but Dib continued to press the issue. The Irken was content to stay in Dib’s quarters, pouting whenever the human wanted to leave and enjoy the night life.

“Come down to the bar with me,” Dib insisted a week later. “I’m telling you, you’ll enjoy it. We can sit on the balcony above the floor. You can watch the acts onstage and yell things at people.”

Zim merely grimaced and picked at his dinner. Dib finally gave up, sighing as he pulled on his dress jacket. “Well… I need to be seen. I’ll be back in a few hours, Zim.” And so he left. Zim continued to pick at his food and pout. Even when he was up and coming in the Empire, he’d never been very social. Zim had always been self-absorbed, more concerned with his career (and occasionally Purple). Why did Dib keep pushing him to be someone he was not?

The door buzzed, causing Zim to jump in surprise. It couldn’t be Dib, could it? Coming back to apologize for leaving Zim all alone just so he could go play? Cautiously, the Irken crept to the large door, slowly pushing it open.

The young tailor and an assistant stood before him, arms full of boxes. “We have your new wardrobe ready for you, Mr. Zim.”

“Mm. Okay… Throw those things… here.” He just gestured toward the nearest open floor space, eager to get rid of the aliens as quickly as possible. They did, a bit confused that their work wasn’t being treated with more respect. Then… they stood, staring at him. Zim’s antennae flickered in annoyance. “Well… thank you for your contributions, clothing drones.” He tried hard to be nice. They continued to stare at him, so he finally waved his hands at them. “…shoo. …begone from Zim.”

They finally left, looking downtrodden. The Boss always tipped them generously when they made a delivery!

Once they were gone and the door was tightly locked again, Zim began to look through the boxes. Since beginning treatment, all he’d managed to wear was a pair of loose pants over his bandaging. Now that the bandages were unnecessary, he felt so different and strange. He needed something more to help him feel like himself again…

Slipping into some black pants and a deep purple tunic, he looked at himself in the large bathroom mirrors. This was the first time in years that he’d really examined himself, and he didn’t recognize the creature that was reflected back at him. He looked so… pale and sickly. No wonder Dib was unattracted to this! He turned this way and that, his antennae tilting in every direction.

“This is no ZIM! You should be ashamed of yourself.”

He took a few practice laps around the apartments. His muscles felt invigorated. He slipped on his boots. Now he was getting somewhere! After another look at himself in the mirror, he screwed up the courage to take a peek outside. Over the balcony, again he saw the thousands milling around on the floor. Looking slightly to the right, he saw the large open doors of the bar, neon lights beckoning.

Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, he made up his mind. Down he went. He didn’t need an escort now; and Boritz was nowhere to be found. Carrying himself with the most confidence he could muster, he pushed through the crowd, making his way to the bar. With a bit of effort, he managed to work his way through the doors and look upward. He could see the balcony! Hopefully, the Dib dwelled up there.

Boritz was stationed at the bottom of the stairs. With a curt nod, he let Zim pass. The room echoed with the sound of a thousand voices and the smooth tones of the singer onstage. Once he reached the balcony, he found Dib’s shaggy head in moments.

He sat with some man Zim didn’t recognize, chatting easily as he nursed a drink. When the Irken approached, he fell quiet for a moment, looking him over. “Zim. So nice that you could join us.”

Scooting over in the booth, he gestured for Zim to sit beside him. He did, though not as closely as he would like. The man on the other side looked Zim over with interest. “Salaxis, this is… Zim. A very good friend of mine. He’s been on a missionary trip for awhile now, and has finally come back to Kharna to visit.”

Salaxis’ orange eyes widened as he looked over the two of them. He’d heard rumors that the Boss of Kharna was actually that human from the vids, the one who helped take down the Irken race. Now he knew for sure. Holding out his hand in greeting, he replied, “It’s truly an honor to meet you, Zim.”

Those words had never been uttered in Zim’s presence, and he was taken aback for a moment. “Um… yes. Of course.” He glanced at Dib, who grinned encouragingly at him. “Of course… I hope that, as a trusted associate, you’ll keep Zim’s visit a secret.” He hadn’t planned for this development, and didn’t want religious fanatics breaking down the doors of his satellite.

“Most certainly.” And the subject was then forgotten. They went back to talking business as Zim looked out over the bar. This all belonged to Dib! He still couldn’t fathom it.

Salaxis left in time, and Dib’s attentions turned to Zim. “You look… great,” he breathed, leaning in closely enough so that Zim could hear him clearly over the din. “Thank you for coming.” They couldn’t speak at length, however, as more associates of Dib’s showed up, wanting to talk about this or that.

Dib introduced Zim as his partner to every alien that stopped by, and some of them understood the implications while others didn’t. They all, however, treated Zim with deference that came with being the Boss’s trusted friend. At times they even asked his input during their conversations. Sometimes Zim contributed intelligent discourse, and sometimes his answers were completely off-the-wall. Dib supplemented those with his own spin on things.

Early morning came and the bar finally began to empty out. Zim felt a heady sense of accomplishment and belonging. Taking the Irken’s arm, Dib finally rose and said goodnight to everyone. It took him about a half an hour to get out of the bar, but once he did, Zim saw how blissful he looked in the brighter lights of the floor.

“Let’s go ‘home,’ shall we?” Dib asked, palm pressing lightly against the small of Zim’s back. He nodded, looking forward to getting away from the harshness of all the voices and smoke and smell.

Once they were back in Dib’s quarters, Dib wandered through the living area like a ghost, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He wore a smile as he pulled off his jacket and threw it over the back of the couch. He slid behind the bar as Zim leaned heavily against the counter. “That… was more draining than I anticipated,” Zim admitted, watching Dib pour himself a glass of seltzer.

“But you were great,” Dib replied, smiling up at him as he took a drink. “Do you want some soda?”

Zim took a moment to decide, but by the time he was ready to answer, Dib had already left the bar and approached him from behind. His hands encircled Zim’s waist, squeezing softly. “You look so good,” Dib repeated, leaning forward to press his face against the back of Zim’s head. “My partnerrr,” he growled, hips making contact with Zim’s behind.

Besides a soft intake of breath, Zim didn’t reply. He felt that he might destroy this quiet moment if he did. Dib’s hands continued to feel over the soft material of his tunic, moving down until they were caressing Zim’s legs. The Irken felt Dib’s growing arousal against him, causing him to shift slightly, rubbing it. “Zim,” Dib breathed, a hand turning Zim’s face to the side. Beginning to kiss him slowly, he let his hands return to work. Squeezing Zim’s ass, he moaned softly in approval before letting his fingers slide upward, beneath the tunic.

“It’s so soft now,” he hissed, feeling Zim’s new skin beneath his good palm. His pants only grew tighter as his fingertips slid down to tuck under Zim’s waistband. They brushed against Zim’s member and it immediately began to spring to life. The Irken finally moaned softly, a tinge of tiredness in his voice. But he stayed completely still, allowing Dib to do whatever he wished. Encouraged by this, the human pulled the pants down over Zim’s waist, slowly, backing away so that he could watch as the black cloth revealed pale green skin.

With one hand, he pressed on Zim’s back, making him lean forward against the counter as the other hand began to push the tunic upward. Once it was as high as the material would allow, he licked his lips, dipping down to begin peppering the warm skin with kisses. Working down over Zim’s lower back, he groaned in pleasure as he took in that unforgettable taste, that scent. “Fuck… I missed this,” he whispered, hands pulling Zim’s pants down to mid-thigh before roaming back upward, caressing his thighs.

“Me too,” Zim replied quietly, eyes closing as he simply enjoyed the rush of heat that was slowly crawling over his body. Dib’s fingers finally reached their destination, sliding teasingly over Zim’s cherry before slowly pushing inside. With a more insistent moan, the Irken tried to spread his legs. The tight pants kept him from doing much, and so he merely stayed trapped there, clinging to the counter.

Nipping at Zim’s hip-bones, Dib pushed more and more deeply within, feeling the treacherous walls he used to know so well. But he knew even more about how things worked now; when Zim’s body became softer and more accepting, he spread it open just enough to slide his tongue over the sensitive entrance.

“Haa~!” The feeling of that softness, the slight sting, made Zim’s legs immediately shake, his cock now rock-hard. Hoping for that reaction, Dib growled in approval, his tongue beginning to penetrate as deeply as he could manage. Soon enough, Zim was moaning openly, his own shaking hand finally sliding down to wrap around his member. The extra stimulation caused his body to tighten slightly before his hips arched upward, begging for more. Dib finally tasted the natural lubrication and it sent shockwaves over his spine.

Licking his lips as he pulled away, Dib hissed, “Don’t cum before me.” Standing again, he reached to cover Zim’s hand with his own as he unbuttoned his fly. With a sigh of relief, he released his own aching erection. Keeping Zim’s hand still, he rubbed himself against the hot, wet hole, enjoying the sounds his partner made in response. Smearing precum over the skin, he purred, “Get ready…”

Zim was more than ready, leaning forward as he pressed upward on his toes. Dib pressed him against the counter with the palm of his hand, the other guiding his member slowly within. The Meekrob protected him, though the extra time spent meant that Zim’s body was already very accepting.

Moaning loudly, his voice breaking, Zim tried to arch his back. His legs weren’t spread very far and Dib’s cock was bigger than he remembered… He’d never felt anything like it. Dib groaned in pleasure as he finally buried the last inch. For a moment, he simply savored it, looking down at his lover’s body as it squirmed beneath him, surrounding him in that perfect heat. Then he began to move, slowly at first, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in.

“Yesss… Dib…” Zim was already bordering on euphoria, finally experiencing the intimacy he had so craved for so long. And there was no pain. His body was almost like new and the pleasure was making his nerves come alive. He almost forgot about his occupied hand, finally beginning to pull at the swollen ridges as Dib’s cock pushed him to higher and higher plateaus.

Finally, the human withdrew his hand, gripping Zim’s hips instead as he began to slam harder and more quickly against him. Pushing upward, back arching, Zim cried out with each thrust, voice mingling with Dib’s moans and whispered proclamations. Soon Dib was leaning forward, body pressed close against Zim’s, panting softly against the back of his neck.

With a long moan, Zim finally climaxed, both hands gripping his cock as it flared. The intense heat quickly brought Dib to his end and he slammed hard against the other, emptying himself deep within. Then they both collapsed against the counter, Dib’s arms on either side of Zim as he tried to keep them both upright.

Neither spoke a word as they recovered; there was nothing to say. Dib withdrew, looking down at their bodies as he slowly separated. Grabbing a towel off of the bar, he cleaned himself and buttoned his pants before cleaning Zim to the best of his ability. The thought of the Irken walking around with his seed deep within was incredibly erotic, though. Helping Zim dress and smooth out his clothes, he tried to calm down his pounding heart.

Zim simply looked up at him, face slightly flushed. Unable to resist that look, Dib pulled him close again. Kissing him deeply, he growled something under his breath and buried his face in Zim’s neck.

“Zim… sort of enjoyed the bar tonight.”

Dib grinned against the alien’s skin, squeezing him a bit. “…I love you. I do. I really do.”

“I know.” Finally! Zim realized that everything between them would be just fine.

And it was… except it wasn’t. Despite finally regaining what they had lost all those years before, Zim occasionally caught Dib in the midst of melancholy. He would sometimes stare off into space, brow furrowed. No longer afraid of broaching inappropriate subjects, Zim finally asked him what was wrong.

“…I miss her,” Dib replied, chewing on the inside of his lip. He turned to look at Zim, suddenly embarrassed. The Irken looked horrified, unsure of who exactly ‘she’ was. Laughing, Dib ran fingers through his hair. “My baby. Megami. I miss her. I haven’t heard from her for all this time… I promised that I would let her hear Vermeil’s side of the story, but…” Swallowing hard, Dib looked down at his lap. “…I had her for that brief amount of time. Finally had her back. And now she’s gone again.”

Zim asked about her and finally got Dib talking. Eventually he knew everything about how she’d come to be estranged from him; his imprisonment, his inability to contact her, their telling her that he was dead.

“I feel betrayed. Yet, Valerie led Megami to you. What the hell is going on at Nirvana? It gnaws at me. Gnaws and gnaws and gnaws at me…”

“Why don’t you go find out?” Zim asked, thinking it was the most easily solved dilemma in the universe. Dib stared at him as if he were crazy—until understanding finally dawned.

“You know what? You’re right. I’ve spent all these years trying to ignore the past… And what has it gotten me? I’m not scared of my father anymore. I deserve some fucking answers.”

They departed for Nirvana that very day.
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The Irken Anatomy