A story is only worth its last chapter. It can be great for the going but if you screw up the ending, it's nothing but a disappointment. I hope that's not true with this one. I almost regret this having to end. It's been fun writing. I really had to push myself to get started, but I'm glad I didn't let my "friends" interfere with this project. Of all my stories of any genre I've written, past and present, this is my favorite ^,~ I'm glad to see so many other people think so as well.
Anyway, the moment you've all been waiting for. I just hope it was worth the wait.
**
The steam from the showerhead lulled his restless mind into submission as the hot water stabbed and bounced off Dib's tired and raw flesh. The rope burns on his arms, legs and waist made him hiss under the shower's ministrations, but he remained under the constant stream, letting the water cascade over his shoulders and engulf his body in an invisible shield. His hair fell to his face, the long sickle shaped extension looping forward with the weight of the water while the rest laid flat on his head. Water. So many memories involved the water. Dib shook his soaked head, droplets of water spraying off and splattering across the shower walls. He didn't want to think about anything that had happened. Not before, not after, not during. Nothing but the way the water made his muscles relax and his sinuses clear; the way the dirt and grime spiraled down the drain to never be seen again. He looked down, noting the blood twisting with the water, brown in it's diluted state. His wrists had opened up again, as well as any number of thinner scratches that adorned his body. It was almost mesmerizing, the way droplets fell from his arm and slashed into the water. One might imagine blood to do the same as water droplets, instantly becoming one of the whole as they plopped into the water. But they didn't. The blood seemed to stick together, even fully immersed, holding on to its form until the water pulled it apart and turned from crimson into an almost green as it melted in and was carried down the drain. Dib held his bleeding wrist out from the shower's pulse, letting the red drops pool and spill off his hand, watching their futile attempts to stay as one, only to be pulled into the collective.
/This one is Nye,/ he thought, watching another drop of blood fall from his hand. /This one is Jax./ Each droplet faded into the tinted water.
/This one is--/ Two drops fell simultaneously from his wrist, hitting the water's surface at the same time. They, unlike the ones before them, held together longer, their crimson hue lasting when all others had faded to murky brown. /That one was me...and.../
The water suddenly turned cold, the variant between warm and freezing never occurring. It was just cold all of a sudden. Dib's golden eyes shot wide as he jumped back from the steady stream. Reaching, he turned the shower off. The rest of the water and blood cycloned down the drain.
Grabbing the towel laid out for him, Dib quickly began to dry off, being as careful as he could to avoid irritating his healing wounds. The white towel was tie-dyed in red before he was done. /I should have stayed in the hospital till the worst of the cuts began to heal. They all told me so./ Dib put the towel in the trash bin, grabbing the first aid kit under the sink. /But what do you do when the worst cuts are on the inside? The ones left by betrayal?/ He dabbed some ointment over his wrists, squinting at the feel and look of it before grabbing the gauze and doing his best to wrap them. /Besides, you can't hide from the newspaper reporters when you're in the hospital. I'm better off here. Home./ With his wrists bandaged, he moved on to his waist, tying the gauze around him like a belt. He tried not to look in the mirror. It disgusted him. A reflection of pain, a roadmap of twisting burns and cuts, some with the imprint of the rope even, traveling across his flesh. That night...had it not been for a cop on his nightly rounds, Dib knew he would have died. Cold, naked, stretched across the wooden cross with ropes tied too tightly across his body, visions of horrors unmentionable dancing like fire before his eyes and something burning in his veins. And, amidst it all, a blond-haired demon with smoke trailing from his lips speaking words in a language he could not understand. Dib picked up another towel, shaking it through his hair to drain it of the moisture. Towel-dried and clean, he could feel the stubborn sickle strand begin to set itself back up atop his head. What an odd sort of cowlick to have.
He managed to make it out of the bathroom without looking in the mirror, not bothering to cover himself with a towel as he walked across the hall to his room. It wasn't like anyone would see him. His father was in his lab, as always. Dib was the only one in the house; had been since his sister had passed away two years before. Living at home was as good as living alone, only someone else paid for everything without using any of it themselves.
His room was much as it had been all his life: little pieces of the paranormal adorning every wall with shelves of his personal findings. Most of them echoed the same name. Zim. It was the reason he had his findings categorized reverse alphabetically. Zim, Zim, Zim. Look left and there was a picture of him. Look right and there was a camera feed from his house. So much childish play still in effect. In all those years, the only thing that never seemed to get boring or dull was Zim. Always changing, always thinking of something new, always saying the most ridiculous things that made one guess as to whether they should laugh or feel sorry for the fool. But as much as he changed, some things always stayed the same. Like the fact that he would always be there.
Dib trudged to his closet, grabbing familiar clothes he'd never grown out of. Style-wise, anyway. Black jeans, blue shirt, black trench coat. They were loose fitting, a far cry from what Jax had dressed him in so often. Dib decided he liked his own style better and closed the closet doors.
He had caught a glimpse of movement in the camera feed from Zim's house the night before. He'd seen Zim had returned, saw the remorseful contact covered eyes look directly at his "hidden" camera. He was coming today. Everything in Dib's body told him it. Clean and dressed, Dib was ready for him.
He walked down the stairs to his kitchen, deciding to eat while he waited. On the kitchen table was a newspaper and a pen. Dib figured his father had gotten up and started on the crossword puzzle as usual, but was surprised to see he hadn't taken it with him to his lab. He looked down at the paper. It wasn't even turned to the crossword puzzle. It was still laying with the front page in full view.
"College Calamity; Murder strikes UNS."
/Murder?/ Food forgotten, Dib pulled his chair up and sat, opening the paper. The picture on the front page was of two people he knew very well. The caption under the picture led little to the imagination as to what the article read.
"Here pictured Jax Mayfield, 19, main suspect in the murder of Nye Redford, 22, behind local club."
For a moment nothing registered. Dib began to read the article anyway, his mind begging for clarification.
"Jax Mayfield, a known partier and member of the dangerous fraternity Pi Alpha Phi, was arrested yesterday for the murder of fellow fraternity member Nye Redford. Pi Alpha Phi has been linked to many illegal acts since its establishment in 1964, including the death of Guy Pearson in 1998 and the recent incident with fellow student Dib Membrane. Police found Redford's body mangled and unrecognizable behind local club, 'The Jezebel,' where he worked as bartender. Police soon after found Mayfield's fingerprints in the employee section of the club. Upon questioning, Mayfield denied charges of murder but admitted his guilt as a participant in the Membrane case. He stands a minimum of fifteen years for attempted murder and could be sentenced to life if convicted for Redford's death."
Dib put the paper down, his hands coming away with black smudges from the ink. Clarity could be a bitch at times. And in clarity, Dib knew exactly what that pained look Zim had given him through the camera had meant. He had killed Nye. The alien had actually done what all that threatening had alluded to. Dib tried to calm his breathing, but in the end found he couldn't keep in inside any more.
He laughed.
Dib laughed so hard, he thought he would tear open his cuts again. His eyes watered with mirth as his body shook in uncontrollable laughter. It really was quite funny. As time passed and the laugher subsided to chuckles, he wondered when the last time he'd laughed like that had been. Probably not since his sister had died. Too long. He took the pen his father had set beside the paper and began to doodle on the picture's faces. Horns for Nye, long pointed teeth and smoke coming from his mouth. The perfect picture of the demon within. Jax was adorned with a snake around his neck and bars drawn vertically over him. Neither looked very good in the pictures to begin with, but now they looked like little scribbles a kindergartner would draw.
"Rest in piece, Nye," he muttered with a smile. "I hope Satan's punishment for you will be ten times worse than whatever Zim did. And Jax, you'll make a great prison bitch." With that thought, he drew a frilly shirt on the brunette, smiling at his horrible drawing skills. "Tell Big Ben hi for me."
"Son? Are you alright?"
Dib stared, turning around in his chair to glance at his father's hidden face. "I'm sorry. Was I being too loud?"
"I heard you laughing," Professor Membrane stated, putting his hand on the back of the chair. "I'd forgotten what it sounded like."
Though he couldn't tell visually, Dib could sense the smile in his father's words.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked again.
Dib nodded. "You read the paper?"
"Yes. The attorney told me about it all yesterday. I was going to tell you, but I wasn't sure how." He patted his son on the back. "I should have known you'd be okay. You're a Membrane. You're strong, determined, intelligent and related to me!"
"Thanks, Dad."
Professor Membrane sighed, his gloved hand reaching out to ruffle Dib's hair. "I'm glad to hear you laughing again," he said as he walked back out and towards his lab.
Dib turned back to his masterpiece, taking the front page in his hands and crumbling it up into a ball. He debated on whether or not he would burn it, but placed it in the trash bin instead.
The doorbell rang.
Dib looked towards the door, his hand grasping the table. His fingers curled around the pen. He waited, wondering if it was his mind playing tricks on him.
The doorbell rang again.
Taking the pen with him, Dib walked to the door, gulping down the knot in his throat. He'd thought about what he was going to say all night, but it all seemed to vanish in a puff of smoke. He reached for the doorknob and pulled open the door slowly, watching the green arms materialize in his vision.
Zim's green face was disguised, but solemn nonetheless. It looked like he hadn't slept in a while. Even his contacts portrayed the foggy, slumberless haze. He stood in the doorway, defeated, tired, and miserable.
"Hello, Dib."
Dib nodded, laughter forgotten. "Zim."
"I just wanted to tell you that...I'm sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have tried to be something in your life that I wasn't." His eyes begged for what words did not describe. "I love you. I will always love you. But I'm willing to go away if that's what you want. I've already packed up the voot cruiser. I am leaving today. I thought you might like to know that. It's your life, Dib. I won't interfere with it anymore."
Dib could almost feel Zim's sadness crushing him. "You promise?"
Zim nodded, his heart breaking into a million pieces. "On my honor as an Irkin." He stepped back from the door, his eyes staring at the ground. "I guess this is goodbye, then." His feet beseeched to run away, while his heart ached to stay, to hold, to beg. "Goodbye, Dib."
A warm hand reached out for his, holding it tightly and drawing it near. Zim looked down, seeing the perfect mixture of green and peach as Dib held his hand. He gazed up, hopeful, into Dib's golden eyes.
Dib said nothing. He pulled Zim's hand closer, turning it until the back of it faced him. Then, with the pen he still carried, marked in blue ink on the taut skin. When he was finished, he let go, letting Zim look at his drawing.
"A flag?"
Dib nodded.
"What does this mean?"
"It means you're mine now." Dib smiled at Zim's perplexed face, dropping the pen and wrapping both arms around his neck. "It means I love you."
Zim's arms reacted on their own, grasping the warm body and holding him tightly while every withheld passion played before him.
And while all the world screamed to prove they were still alive, Zim and Dib laughed.
**
Abrupt, but I think I like it like that and I hope you all do too. I also hope I continue to entertain you all in the future. In fact, I have another fic idea already ^,~; It's kinda very naughty though, so I'm debating whether or not I'm really gonna do it. I'd hate to give my beta reader a nosebleed. Once again, a big round of applause for Karyx!
Also, I'm making an Invader Zim Slash/Yaoi archive for all MxM IZ pairing fics and art. To see the not finished site-
http://angelfire.com/goth/izslash/index.html
Instructions on how to be featured in the archive are available there as well. Please join and make it easier for fans to find their IZ slash needs!
Anyway, the moment you've all been waiting for. I just hope it was worth the wait.
**
The steam from the showerhead lulled his restless mind into submission as the hot water stabbed and bounced off Dib's tired and raw flesh. The rope burns on his arms, legs and waist made him hiss under the shower's ministrations, but he remained under the constant stream, letting the water cascade over his shoulders and engulf his body in an invisible shield. His hair fell to his face, the long sickle shaped extension looping forward with the weight of the water while the rest laid flat on his head. Water. So many memories involved the water. Dib shook his soaked head, droplets of water spraying off and splattering across the shower walls. He didn't want to think about anything that had happened. Not before, not after, not during. Nothing but the way the water made his muscles relax and his sinuses clear; the way the dirt and grime spiraled down the drain to never be seen again. He looked down, noting the blood twisting with the water, brown in it's diluted state. His wrists had opened up again, as well as any number of thinner scratches that adorned his body. It was almost mesmerizing, the way droplets fell from his arm and slashed into the water. One might imagine blood to do the same as water droplets, instantly becoming one of the whole as they plopped into the water. But they didn't. The blood seemed to stick together, even fully immersed, holding on to its form until the water pulled it apart and turned from crimson into an almost green as it melted in and was carried down the drain. Dib held his bleeding wrist out from the shower's pulse, letting the red drops pool and spill off his hand, watching their futile attempts to stay as one, only to be pulled into the collective.
/This one is Nye,/ he thought, watching another drop of blood fall from his hand. /This one is Jax./ Each droplet faded into the tinted water.
/This one is--/ Two drops fell simultaneously from his wrist, hitting the water's surface at the same time. They, unlike the ones before them, held together longer, their crimson hue lasting when all others had faded to murky brown. /That one was me...and.../
The water suddenly turned cold, the variant between warm and freezing never occurring. It was just cold all of a sudden. Dib's golden eyes shot wide as he jumped back from the steady stream. Reaching, he turned the shower off. The rest of the water and blood cycloned down the drain.
Grabbing the towel laid out for him, Dib quickly began to dry off, being as careful as he could to avoid irritating his healing wounds. The white towel was tie-dyed in red before he was done. /I should have stayed in the hospital till the worst of the cuts began to heal. They all told me so./ Dib put the towel in the trash bin, grabbing the first aid kit under the sink. /But what do you do when the worst cuts are on the inside? The ones left by betrayal?/ He dabbed some ointment over his wrists, squinting at the feel and look of it before grabbing the gauze and doing his best to wrap them. /Besides, you can't hide from the newspaper reporters when you're in the hospital. I'm better off here. Home./ With his wrists bandaged, he moved on to his waist, tying the gauze around him like a belt. He tried not to look in the mirror. It disgusted him. A reflection of pain, a roadmap of twisting burns and cuts, some with the imprint of the rope even, traveling across his flesh. That night...had it not been for a cop on his nightly rounds, Dib knew he would have died. Cold, naked, stretched across the wooden cross with ropes tied too tightly across his body, visions of horrors unmentionable dancing like fire before his eyes and something burning in his veins. And, amidst it all, a blond-haired demon with smoke trailing from his lips speaking words in a language he could not understand. Dib picked up another towel, shaking it through his hair to drain it of the moisture. Towel-dried and clean, he could feel the stubborn sickle strand begin to set itself back up atop his head. What an odd sort of cowlick to have.
He managed to make it out of the bathroom without looking in the mirror, not bothering to cover himself with a towel as he walked across the hall to his room. It wasn't like anyone would see him. His father was in his lab, as always. Dib was the only one in the house; had been since his sister had passed away two years before. Living at home was as good as living alone, only someone else paid for everything without using any of it themselves.
His room was much as it had been all his life: little pieces of the paranormal adorning every wall with shelves of his personal findings. Most of them echoed the same name. Zim. It was the reason he had his findings categorized reverse alphabetically. Zim, Zim, Zim. Look left and there was a picture of him. Look right and there was a camera feed from his house. So much childish play still in effect. In all those years, the only thing that never seemed to get boring or dull was Zim. Always changing, always thinking of something new, always saying the most ridiculous things that made one guess as to whether they should laugh or feel sorry for the fool. But as much as he changed, some things always stayed the same. Like the fact that he would always be there.
Dib trudged to his closet, grabbing familiar clothes he'd never grown out of. Style-wise, anyway. Black jeans, blue shirt, black trench coat. They were loose fitting, a far cry from what Jax had dressed him in so often. Dib decided he liked his own style better and closed the closet doors.
He had caught a glimpse of movement in the camera feed from Zim's house the night before. He'd seen Zim had returned, saw the remorseful contact covered eyes look directly at his "hidden" camera. He was coming today. Everything in Dib's body told him it. Clean and dressed, Dib was ready for him.
He walked down the stairs to his kitchen, deciding to eat while he waited. On the kitchen table was a newspaper and a pen. Dib figured his father had gotten up and started on the crossword puzzle as usual, but was surprised to see he hadn't taken it with him to his lab. He looked down at the paper. It wasn't even turned to the crossword puzzle. It was still laying with the front page in full view.
"College Calamity; Murder strikes UNS."
/Murder?/ Food forgotten, Dib pulled his chair up and sat, opening the paper. The picture on the front page was of two people he knew very well. The caption under the picture led little to the imagination as to what the article read.
"Here pictured Jax Mayfield, 19, main suspect in the murder of Nye Redford, 22, behind local club."
For a moment nothing registered. Dib began to read the article anyway, his mind begging for clarification.
"Jax Mayfield, a known partier and member of the dangerous fraternity Pi Alpha Phi, was arrested yesterday for the murder of fellow fraternity member Nye Redford. Pi Alpha Phi has been linked to many illegal acts since its establishment in 1964, including the death of Guy Pearson in 1998 and the recent incident with fellow student Dib Membrane. Police found Redford's body mangled and unrecognizable behind local club, 'The Jezebel,' where he worked as bartender. Police soon after found Mayfield's fingerprints in the employee section of the club. Upon questioning, Mayfield denied charges of murder but admitted his guilt as a participant in the Membrane case. He stands a minimum of fifteen years for attempted murder and could be sentenced to life if convicted for Redford's death."
Dib put the paper down, his hands coming away with black smudges from the ink. Clarity could be a bitch at times. And in clarity, Dib knew exactly what that pained look Zim had given him through the camera had meant. He had killed Nye. The alien had actually done what all that threatening had alluded to. Dib tried to calm his breathing, but in the end found he couldn't keep in inside any more.
He laughed.
Dib laughed so hard, he thought he would tear open his cuts again. His eyes watered with mirth as his body shook in uncontrollable laughter. It really was quite funny. As time passed and the laugher subsided to chuckles, he wondered when the last time he'd laughed like that had been. Probably not since his sister had died. Too long. He took the pen his father had set beside the paper and began to doodle on the picture's faces. Horns for Nye, long pointed teeth and smoke coming from his mouth. The perfect picture of the demon within. Jax was adorned with a snake around his neck and bars drawn vertically over him. Neither looked very good in the pictures to begin with, but now they looked like little scribbles a kindergartner would draw.
"Rest in piece, Nye," he muttered with a smile. "I hope Satan's punishment for you will be ten times worse than whatever Zim did. And Jax, you'll make a great prison bitch." With that thought, he drew a frilly shirt on the brunette, smiling at his horrible drawing skills. "Tell Big Ben hi for me."
"Son? Are you alright?"
Dib stared, turning around in his chair to glance at his father's hidden face. "I'm sorry. Was I being too loud?"
"I heard you laughing," Professor Membrane stated, putting his hand on the back of the chair. "I'd forgotten what it sounded like."
Though he couldn't tell visually, Dib could sense the smile in his father's words.
"Are you feeling alright?" he asked again.
Dib nodded. "You read the paper?"
"Yes. The attorney told me about it all yesterday. I was going to tell you, but I wasn't sure how." He patted his son on the back. "I should have known you'd be okay. You're a Membrane. You're strong, determined, intelligent and related to me!"
"Thanks, Dad."
Professor Membrane sighed, his gloved hand reaching out to ruffle Dib's hair. "I'm glad to hear you laughing again," he said as he walked back out and towards his lab.
Dib turned back to his masterpiece, taking the front page in his hands and crumbling it up into a ball. He debated on whether or not he would burn it, but placed it in the trash bin instead.
The doorbell rang.
Dib looked towards the door, his hand grasping the table. His fingers curled around the pen. He waited, wondering if it was his mind playing tricks on him.
The doorbell rang again.
Taking the pen with him, Dib walked to the door, gulping down the knot in his throat. He'd thought about what he was going to say all night, but it all seemed to vanish in a puff of smoke. He reached for the doorknob and pulled open the door slowly, watching the green arms materialize in his vision.
Zim's green face was disguised, but solemn nonetheless. It looked like he hadn't slept in a while. Even his contacts portrayed the foggy, slumberless haze. He stood in the doorway, defeated, tired, and miserable.
"Hello, Dib."
Dib nodded, laughter forgotten. "Zim."
"I just wanted to tell you that...I'm sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have tried to be something in your life that I wasn't." His eyes begged for what words did not describe. "I love you. I will always love you. But I'm willing to go away if that's what you want. I've already packed up the voot cruiser. I am leaving today. I thought you might like to know that. It's your life, Dib. I won't interfere with it anymore."
Dib could almost feel Zim's sadness crushing him. "You promise?"
Zim nodded, his heart breaking into a million pieces. "On my honor as an Irkin." He stepped back from the door, his eyes staring at the ground. "I guess this is goodbye, then." His feet beseeched to run away, while his heart ached to stay, to hold, to beg. "Goodbye, Dib."
A warm hand reached out for his, holding it tightly and drawing it near. Zim looked down, seeing the perfect mixture of green and peach as Dib held his hand. He gazed up, hopeful, into Dib's golden eyes.
Dib said nothing. He pulled Zim's hand closer, turning it until the back of it faced him. Then, with the pen he still carried, marked in blue ink on the taut skin. When he was finished, he let go, letting Zim look at his drawing.
"A flag?"
Dib nodded.
"What does this mean?"
"It means you're mine now." Dib smiled at Zim's perplexed face, dropping the pen and wrapping both arms around his neck. "It means I love you."
Zim's arms reacted on their own, grasping the warm body and holding him tightly while every withheld passion played before him.
And while all the world screamed to prove they were still alive, Zim and Dib laughed.
**
Abrupt, but I think I like it like that and I hope you all do too. I also hope I continue to entertain you all in the future. In fact, I have another fic idea already ^,~; It's kinda very naughty though, so I'm debating whether or not I'm really gonna do it. I'd hate to give my beta reader a nosebleed. Once again, a big round of applause for Karyx!
Also, I'm making an Invader Zim Slash/Yaoi archive for all MxM IZ pairing fics and art. To see the not finished site-
http://angelfire.com/goth/izslash/index.html
Instructions on how to be featured in the archive are available there as well. Please join and make it easier for fans to find their IZ slash needs!