The Story of Dib and Zim

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m perfectly fine.”

“It’s just, you know, you haven’t talked much today, and that’s unheard of.”

“I said I was fine, and it’s because I’m fine!”

“Because if there is something wrong, I’ll do whatever it takes to fix it.”

Zim was sitting on an Irken chair-thing that looked like a cross between a banana and a caterpillar. He had his knees up beneath his chin and his hands were clasped over his ankles. He looked aggravated. “One thing you could do for me,” he said, pointing toward a nearby transport tube, “is take me into the bedroom like you used to.”

Dib turned away. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“What is this, some kind of blackmail? You’re refusing the sex until I’m normal-fied?” Zim jumped up. He walked up behind Dib and grabbed Dib's upper arms in both hands. His grip was tight, both affectionate and angry at the same time.

“I’m not refusing anything, Zim. I’m just worried about you is all.” Dib took one of Zim’s hands in his own, holding it open to look at the palm. The tracery of lines looked different than that of a human hand. Sort of scaly-looking, though still soft to the touch. Dib stroked his thumb in a circular pattern in the middle of it. “I’m worried about hurting you,” he said thoughtfully.

“You’re not going to hurt me! It would take a lot more than human filth meat to hurt Zim!” Zim’s voice became beseeching, “Please?”

Dib sighed. It was a mistake to be alone with the alien for too long. “Where’s Gir?” he asked. Technically, Gir was Dib’s servant now, but the little robot had never stopped obeying Zim. This either made him very slow, or very loyal, or perhaps a strange mixture of both.

“Upstairs making dinner.”

“We already ate dinner.”

Zim shrugged. “He’s making another one.”

“I want to talk to him.”

“Liar! You just want to evade the questions of Zim!”

“Okay, see, this is the problem right here. You’re not responsible enough to think things through clearly, and that’s why I worry about you. I never know what you’re going to do next.”

“How many times do I have to tell you? I am absolutely, perfectly, undeniably all right!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

“Well, for one thing, you can stop asking me to order you around.”

Zim’s arms tightened around Dib and he laid his forehead on the back of Dib’s neck. His voice became soft. “Would that really be so bad?”

“Yes, it would.”

“Why? Wouldn’t you be willing to do it? I thought you said you loved me.”

“I do. But love and control aren’t the same thing. It’s time you learned that.”


Zim’s arms fell to his sides. He looked deflated. Slowly he went back and sat on the banana caterpillar. If I really am all right, then why do I feel so sick inside?

Dib came up and sat beside him. His presence emanated warmth and security. Zim curled up so that he was nearly sitting in Dib’s lap. He wrapped Dib’s coat around himself and felt a measure of comfort.

“I’m not all right, am I?” Zim asked in a tiny voice.

“Don’t worry, Zim. You will be. These things just take time.”