VINDICATION

CHAPTER 4: Stockholm Syndrome


Dib shivered in the steel cage, wrapping his arms around himself. He was still in his boxers, and he’d had nothing but GIR’s orange juice for the past six hours. He was starting to feel decidedly hungry, and he at least wanted his pants back, because the loss of blood he’d suffered earlier had made him more susceptible to the cold. He only hoped he wasn’t going into shock or anything.

Dib had only debated for a split second on whether or not his suffering was worth it, and he had just as quickly concluded that it was, and that any experiments Zim performed could be endured. As GIR stood guard, Dib stretched and sighed. “Hey, GIR, can I please have my pants back? I’m kinda cold.”

GIR turned his head and blinked his red eyes at him a few times before they turned a blue-green colour and he grinned. “Okeedokie!”

The little robot ran off, returning five minutes later with Dib’s pants and another glass of orange juice.

Dib took the pants gratefully, climbing into them and taking the glass of orange juice, looking at it dubiously. “Uh…say, GIR, I appreciate the juice and all…but I’m pretty hungry right now.” He suddenly remembered one of the worst projects he’d put forward for the Swollen Eyeball as a kid, and he smiled hopefully. “Hey, how about some waffles? Do you have the ones with waffle in ‘em?”

GIR squealed, nodding and bounding off, his metallic feet clinking against the ground as he ran out of the lab. Dib smiled and shook his head. He’d always liked GIR. Back in the days when he’d been so intent on destroying Zim, he’d actually planned to keep GIR for himself once Zim was handed over to the Earth authorities.

He frowned, remembering something Zim had said when he was on the autopsy table. Something about giving him nightmares… Dib winced, feeling a twinge of guilt that had never been there before. The more he thought about it, the more he began to regret his treatment of Zim after his arrival on Earth. He’d automatically assumed that Zim was evil upon first sight; and, while that may have been the case, it could have been different. What if Zim had been a member of a friendly alien race out to learn about the Earth and its inhabitants? Dib would have made the most negative impression ever. He sighed, trailing his fingers over the tiny staples in his forearm. He’d been cruel to Zim since day one; and although some of it may have been deserved, a lot of it was out of sheer sadistic malice.

Like that time he threw sandwich meat at Zim’s face, knowing he was allergic to it.

Dib winced. Now that he thought of it, he truly had been cruel to Zim when he was younger. Granted, it wasn’t as if his attempts to capture Zim and defeat him would have been very professional at that age, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the driving force behind his quest to expose Zim was his own need for acknowledgement and validation. He wanted everyone to take him seriously, to notice him for once and to stop and listen to what he had to say. And because of that, Zim had suffered.

“The only reason I’m selling this dirt in a wrapper is to watch you fail at something else…”

Dib sighed…it wasn’t like Zim had come to Earth of his own volition or anything…he’d found out from GIR that Zim was sent here by the Tallest because they didn’t like him. And everything Zim was doing, he was doing to try and prove that he was a competent Invader, and that he could do the job right.

How ironic, Dib mused, that he and Zim, his former arch enemy, were so alike in some respects; both ostracized by their own kind and both out to prove something. It was almost logical that they would come to this: joining forces to oppose those who ridiculed them.

Before he could contemplate it further, GIR dashed into the room with a plate of waffles bigger than he was.

“WAFFLES!!!!!”

Dib chuckled, taking the plate from the little robot and setting it down so he didn’t drop it. “Yes…and muffins!” He picked one up and took a bite, discovering that it was chocolatey chocolate chip. How like GIR. “Thanks, GIR, you’re the best.”

The little robot clapped his metal hands and then his eyes turned red again as he returned to his monitoring of the prisoner and the surrounding area within the lab.

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