A/N: hey! Just felt like writing a short one-shot with these two.

He had been so stupid, so guileless and foolishly stupid.

Dib sank to his knees, blunt fingernails clawing at his face as he cried in anguish, translucent tears smearing dirt and blood across his filthy countenance. All around him buildings were sweltering and bursting into flame, blood was siphoning into the cracks veining across the concrete, and people were dropping around him like flies. The air reeked with the acrid bitterness of copper, a briny metallic smell that made him want to gag, but he forced himself to swallow the nastiness down. He could vaguely feel the way the crumbled pavement beneath him dug into his knees, bits of rock embedding into tender raw flesh, but he didn't care. There were far worse things out there than physical pain.

"Why," he hissed to himself, slamming his fists on the pavement. "Why, why, why, why, why!" He beat his hands on the ground, pounded and pounded at the earth until his hands came away tattered and bloody. He shouldn't have let his guard down. He shouldn't have ever put his trust in the hands of a being set on dominating and purging the human race. He shouldn't have ever believed that he could find love with his enemy, and because of his error, Dib and the rest of the world were now paying for his foolishness. He was a failure, a complete and utter failure. He couldn't even protect his own planet—he had failed them.

Dib tilted his head towards the sky, an impossibly striking blue sky regrettably blotted by dozens of Irken Armada ships that hovered in the air like enormous ugly insects. Some were ejecting an onslaught of smaller aircraft, Voots, which were each piloted by a ruthless Irken hell-bent on eradicating the human race, and he knew he shouldn't be thinking of him right now, but they reminded him of Zim.

Zim, that fucking bastard.

Zim, the traitor.

Zim. Zim. Zim. Zim.

Dib saw red, but it wasn't the kind of red that he had expected. It wasn't the color of his blood, bright and sharp, or the color of the Irken fleet, diluted and ruddy. This was a color he was all too familiar with, a color he knew inside and out, the color of Zim's eyes, a rich and bloody vermillion.

Before he knew it, a scowl took residence on Dib's filthy face, his brows furrowing and his mouth tapering into a thin, taut line. He looked up at his nemesis, his heart pounding madly within his chest. His blood was so hot that he could feel it practically boiling away in his veins.

"Well if it isn't the Dib-stink," the alien cooed, and despite the implied candy-coated nature of Zim's tone, it sounded more like a mutilated hiss coming from the Irken's razor-toothed mouth. Zim's hands were clasped behind his back, rubber-like gloves squeaking as he flexed his clawed fingers. The alien stood regal and straight, donning a new uniform that consisted of an addition of a blood-colored cape and a magenta sash, a uniform only granted to those Irkens who had taken part in a successful invasion of a foreign planet. Though Earth wasn't completely conquered as of yet, Dib guessed that under these special circumstances, Zim had been allowed clearance. After all, it wasn't until about a week ago that the entire Irken race believed Zim to be an incompetent fool worthy of banishment. Oh, how he proved them wrong. Zim had proved them all wrong, including Dib.

"Well?" Zim barked, gnashing his serrated teeth in disdain. He had a cruel grin plastered across his face, bulbous red eyes narrowed in malicious mirth. Dib could tell the Irken was having a hard time containing his exhilaration. Dib only glared at him, utterly exhausted and defeated. Zim responded by holding his arms aloft, gesturing his hands towards the collapsing world around them. The alien belted out a cackling laugh.

"What do you think, fleshling?" Zim shouted, curling his fingers into fists. He sounded so delighted. "Are you amazed? Stunned? I, Zim, have managed to capture this ball of dirt once and for all, and all under your fleshy little nose." That last statement stung Dib most of all, and in his grief, he snapped his head down and stared at the crushed pavement around his knees, his eyes watering up. He could already feel his throat starting to tighten and constrict, an unpleasant burning sensation settling at the back of his mouth.

"You l-lied to me," Dib hissed under his breath, the sound coming out more of a clipped whisper.

"Eh?" Zim quipped, leaning forward. Dib continued to stare at the ground, clamping his mouth shut.

"Look at me!" the Irken hissed harshly, teeth snapping together. When Dib did nothing but ignore him, the alien reached for the human and grabbed Dib's chin with his fingers, forcing the boy to look up. Dib gasped and widened his eyes behind broken and scratched glasses, his body freezing up. It felt familiar, being held like this, but unlike the past, Zim's grip was now tight and painful. Dib's mind and heart were betraying him by making him reminisce; how could he possibly feel like this in front of someone who had betrayed him so horribly? He supposed Zim could rid Dib of his family, his race, and his entire planet, but the alien couldn't rid Dib of his feelings, feelings he had once thought were mutual. That was something the human was going to take to his grave, no matter if his emotions were currently laced with resentment and distress.

"Are you angry, stink-beast?" Zim pressed, the ends of his pointed talons gouging into Dib's skin. He turned the human's face from side to side. "You must have known it was a farce all along." When Dib didn't answer, the Irken suddenly released the human and took a step back, staring down at Dib with wide, probing eyes. The alien laughed. "Ha, you actually believed that Zim would—you thought that- all this time!" And the Irken burst out into howling laughter. "I was so sure that you were playing along with our little sham, you pathetic sniveling earth-monkey, but to know that all this time you actually had "feeeeeeeelings" for me. IN YOUR FACE." Zim all but screamed the latter part of his speech at Dib, Irken spittle sprinkling across the human's visibly distraught face.

"And here I thought you simply couldn't compete with me in the end," Zim continued. "But to know it was because you actually had that foul human disease with the "emoshuns" and what not. I'm shocked, Dib-human, truly shocked, which is why I shall present you with an offer."

"Fuck you," Dib spat, locking eyes with the Irken. Zim only shot the human a toothy smile.

"In exchange for your measly life, you will become Zim's slave," the alien remarked, tilting his head.

"Hell no," Dib rasped immediately, not even thinking twice. If he had to be with Zim, he didn't want to be with him as his slave, but as his—no. No. There went his emotions again. If his feelings could take on a physical state, he would have punched them into oblivion by now. Unrequited feelings were a bitch.

"Alright then, but let me warn you, the Armada is set to completely purge this planet by tomorrow evening," Zim drawled on, stepping back. "You'd only die an unpleasant death."

"I'd rather die then," Dib whispered, and with that, he broke eye contact and lowered his head. Zim continued to watch the human, an unusual silence falling between the two. After what seemed like minutes, Dib finally looked up and found himself alone. Zim had gone.

Dib let out a broken sob and watched his planet burn around him. He would resign to his fate.