Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The living room was quiet in the early morning. The sky was a dully lit blue-gray illuminated by the slowly rising sun. Dib descended the stairs, carefully passing a sleeping Zim and entering the kitchen. She got to work grabbing snack bars and mixing a protein drink.

“What are you doing?” Zim stood at the kitchen entrance, rubbing sleep from her eyes and looking at Dib.

“Getting ready,” Dib said offhandedly, “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“Shouldn’t you?” Zim retorted, “I’m not the one fully dressed making breakfast at,” she glanced at the clock, “4:30 in the morning on a Sunday, Dib-stink.”

Dib finished shaking up her drink and walked over to Zim, “I need to get going, ok, I have my MMA class at 5:15.” She exited the kitchen and Zim followed.

“MMA? You can’t just say letters at me and expect I know what you’re saying,” Zim snapped, full of sass. Dib rolled her eyes and turned to look at the other girl.

“Mixed Martial Arts.”
Zim still looked a little confused, so Dib continued, “It’s a kind of hand-to-hand combat training.”

“But we're not fighting anymore?” Zim paused and cleared her voice. “We have not had a physical fight in 7 months, Dib-Thing,” Zim stated with a glare, her voice and body tense.
“Oh, God forbid I have any interests that don’t relate back to you,” Dib said sarcastically. “I’m not preparing to take you out in your sleep or something, don’t worry. While I started because of our fights, MMA is just something I like doing, no other purpose.”

Zim seemed to relax a little when it seemed that Dib was telling the truth. “Good,” she replied.

“It’s still early, you should go back to sleep, Zim.” Dib grabbed her keys.“I’ll be back around 8,” she called back as she exited.

Zim walked back to her bed. Dib was still a strange creature in her eyes. Her strange sleeping habits and other quirks made it seem as if she didn’t abide by the rules of her species. On top of that, she was able to understand Zim in a way other humans couldn’t. She sat back on her bed, looking around at the room. She was too awake to go back to sleep now. She decided to start cleaning and look around the house more. She had cleaned the large living room the day before, but had not left that area of the house except to talk to Dib.

The living room led into a small dining area with a round table with two chairs. Behind the table was an expansive kitchen, countertops, and a kitchen island stuffed with unorganized gadgets, dishes, and utensils. This was far more of a mess than the living room; Zim had to wonder how long it had been since it had been cleaned. She shivered in disgust at the idea of all the germs that could be infesting the kitchen. Zim exited through the second entrance to the hallway, finding the laundry room where she grabbed cleaning gloves and a myriad of cleaning supplies. The clock read 4:45, and she stood in the kitchen entryway like a soldier ready to go to war. Time to get to work.

~<3~

Dib’s wrapped fist hit the punching bag with intense force. Even her coach could tell she was frustrated about something. What that something was could be anyone’s guess; the girl was a mystery to most people. She gave off the energy of being a loner in most respects, quiet and unreadable.

Dib’s mind raced with emotion and frustration as she kept at her training exercises. On one hand, she was ecstatic that she didn’t have to worry about Zim attempting to take over the world anymore and that she could finally complete her research on Irkens. On the other hand, she was angry. Zim was completely broken by what the Tallest had done to her, leaving Dib mad on her behalf. She didn’t know if Zim would be the same ever again. Her snarky attitude that morning was a good sign, but she was so quiet. The idea that Zim could be that quiet scared her in a way; the simple fact that someone was able to crush her to that degree was something she tried not to think about. It made Zim seem almost human.

The bag split, spilling grains of sand onto the floor of the gym and snapping Dib out of her thoughts. Her coach walked up soon after.“God, what’s gotten into you! I mean I’m not complaining, if you agreed to do competitive, I could use that attitude in the ring.” Dib held the back of her neck sheepishly but stayed quiet.“I know, I know, you’re too busy for that,” the coach continued knowingly.

Dib sighed, “Frustrated, I guess. Some stuff is going on with a…” she paused for a moment, “Friend of mine.” She started to help clean up the destroyed punching bag.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, kid.” They started to sweep up the sand on the ground as Dib moved what was left of the bag away. “Just remember to talk to someone about it. Stress isn’t good for performance, in the ring or in general,” they said kindly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Dib walked to the sparring ring set up in the gym, cracking her knuckles before entering.

~<3~

Zim meticulously scrubbed the kitchen island; every inch of grime and dust was wiped away diligently. She had done the dishes, swept, mopped, and cleaned the cupboards and countertops. She polished the counters until they were shining and disinfected every surface of the kitchen. Zim heard a knocking sound and looked up to see Dib, slightly confused, leaning against the dining table and looking around the newly cleaned kitchen.

“Uhhh,” Dib walked past the dining table, “How did you…” She trailed off. The room hadn’t been this clean in over a year.

Zim straightened her posture and spoke clearly, “We are living together for the foreseeable future. You obviously do not know how to clean up after yourself, and I refuse to live in a germ-infested hovel.” Zim took off her cleaning gloves and walked around examining her work.

“Ok, first of all, cut the attitude,” Dib retorted, “But second, damn, I hate to admit it, but you did a great job.” Dib raked her fingers through her hair and looked around, still in shock.

“Of course I did,” Zim said off-handedly, walking out of the room to put away the cleaning supplies.

“Hey,” Dib called after her, “I’m going to make some real breakfast, do you want any?” Dib opened the fridge and looked around at the options. Unsurprisingly, all of the items inside had been painstakingly organized as well. Dib called out again, “We have eggs, sausage, and stuff and I could make some pancakes or waffles or something.” She continued to search the fridge as Zim entered the room.

“Food would be appreciated. I would say waffles because I have had them before, however, I found no waffle mix while cleaning, so I assume that is not an option,” Zim said calmly.

“Oh, I don’t buy that stuff.” Dib riffled through the fridge and grabbed milk and eggs, before moving to the pantry cabinets. “I always make them from scratch, I think it tastes better,” she explained.

“What do you mean by, ‘from scratch’?” Zim asked, sitting down at a bar stool on the end of the kitchen island.

Dib paused, still holding a carton of sugar, and turned to look at her. “Like, without a mix? With the base ingredients, flour, sugar, and stuff?” Dib said questioningly before something in her mind clicked. “Wait, have you never had something made from scratch?”
“No, I guess not,” Zim said, “The only human food that I’ve made at home is box mix waffles, if that gives you a frame of reference.”

Dib looked at her. “Damn, I better make these waffles good then, can’t have your first taste of real waffles be shit.” Dib pulled off her hoodie and started making the food in a workout shirt that outlined her large yet muscular figure. Zim was aware Dib was strong, she’d fought her long enough to know that better than anyone else. However, she frequently forgot just how imposing she really was. She was taller than most humans their age and her broad shoulders and heavy-set frame only added to her striking silhouette. Zim became momentarily curious as to why she was paying such close attention to Dib’s stature now. She shook the thought out of her head and watched Dib measure the ingredients and mix the batter; it looked almost like chemistry to her. Intrigued, she asked questions about what the different ingredients did as Dib continued mixing. Dib happily explained what each of the ingredients did and why they were being used while Zim watched intently. Once the batter was complete Dib looked around for a second. “Where did you put the waffle iron?” she asked.

“In the lower compartment next to the stove,” Zim answered with a neutral tone.

“Oh! Yep, there it is.” Dib pulled out the waffle iron and plugged it in. While waiting for it to heat up, she spoke to Zim. “So, how do you like the bed?”

“It’s fine, better than the couch I was sleeping on at my base.” She leaned against the counter, resting her face in her hand as she spoke.

“I was kinda curious about that, I thought Irkens didn’t need sleep, so why do you?” Dib stirred the batter, getting ready to pour it into the waffle iron.

“I do not know, I never did it before coming to Earth but it has had good effects on my health, I have had more energy and been able to think more clearly. I am not sure why, perhaps it has something to do with my defective genetics?”

Dib looked at her as she closed the waffle iron.“Maybe.” She paused. She didn’t like it when Zim referred to herself as defective. Although it hadn’t happened that often, something about it rubbed her the wrong way. "You know, some of the Ancient Irken historical texts your computer gave me had references to a sort of ‘rest period’. Maybe, your ancestors needed sleep or something like it as well?” Dib speculated.

“Hmm,” Zim thought for a moment, “I guess that would make sense. I mean the habit must have come from somewhere, so it’s entirely possible.”

Dib retrieved two plates from the cabinet. “At least the plates are in the same spot,” she mumbled, “Do you want anything on your waffle? Peanut butter? Fruit? Anything like that?” she asked. Using a fork, she transferred the first waffle to a plate.

“Just butter and syrup are good.” She took the plate as Dib passed it to her. “GIR would always put far too many toppings on. I would like to try it plain for once.” Her voice took on an almost melancholic tone as she spoke about her robot companion.

Dib smiled sadly. “You miss them a lot, don’t you?”

Zim nodded silently and started to cut her food. That silence permeated the room only punctuated by the soft sizzling of the waffle iron. Dib finished making her plate, and they ate quietly for a few minutes before Dib spoke up.“Do you like the food?” she asked, trying to be casual.

“It is very good,” Zim said, “I can taste the difference between the box mix and these.” She finished her plate and got up to clean it.

“I’m glad you liked it, we do need to figure out what food you can eat so we can have it on hand,” Dib pointed out, getting up to clear her own plate.

“Yes, we do need to do that, can we go to the store today?” Zim asked as she placed her plate in the dishwasher.

“No, shops are closed today, but we can go after your appointment tomorrow,” Dib said. Zim huffed in response, still against the idea of seeing a therapist. “Don’t be like that, it will be good for you and it’s only three appointments and you’ll never have to go again.”

“I know, but that fact does not make this any less humiliating,” Zim said, walking back into the living room with Dib following soon after.

“It’s not-” Dib cut herself off and sighed.“What do you want to do for the rest of the day?” Dib asked in an attempt to change the subject.

“I do not know, I already cleaned so I have no other tasks to do.” She wrung her hands nervously as she spoke.

“There’s a lot of books in here, you could try reading,” Dib suggested, “There’s a lot of scientific books in the shelves you organized so you have a lot of options. I have more files I wanna go through so if you need me I’ll be in my room.” Dib went upstairs and left Zim to her own devices.

Zim looked at the books on the shelf near the TV and examined the titles (Introduction to Quantum Mechanics, The Elegant Universe, and more) until one caught her eye. Picking up the book she looked at the cover. A delicate red flower was placed on a white background and lettering in a refined font read: Flora. The book intrigued Zim, so she sat in one of the plush chairs in the living room and began to read.

The best way to describe Zim would be enthralled. The book provided expansive knowledge about Earth’s plant life, an aspect of this world she hadn’t realized was so interesting. After finishing the first book she picked up another, then another, taking in as much information as she could find.

~<3~

Dib walked downstairs late at night to see Zim contently passed out on the futon bed surrounded by a variety of books about botany. Dib chucked to herself quietly and smiled. She moved the books to the side of the bed and gently pulled a blanket over Zim. She looked so peaceful when she was asleep.

Chapter Text

Anything to keep her mind occupied. As long as she was doing something she didn’t have to think about any of it. Cleaning, sweeping, organizing, sorting, any detail she could focus on, anything to avoid the thoughts she refused to deal with. She avoided it before and she’d be damned if she couldn’t avoid it now.

Zim sifted through a box of old clothes, picking out ones she thought she could wear and folding them neatly to the side. Her meticulous work was interrupted when Dib entered through the door to the garage. “Ok, so I got you a wig on my way home so you can look somewhat normal at your appointment,” Dib said as she tossed the small bag she was holding to Zim. “I think we can bullshit and say your eyes are part of your ‘skin condition.’ Go put the wig on, we have to get going because we have check-in stuff to do when we get there.”

Zim turned on the bathroom light as she entered and opened the bag. The wig was a dark brown color, cut into a simple style with bangs. She noticed how realistic it looked compared to her old one. Zim adjusted the wig until it sat neatly on her head and quickly went out to get in the car.

~<3~

The waiting room was sterile, paintings and minimalist décor attempting to provide a façade of comfort that wasn’t quite believable. Florescent lights burned Zim’s eyes as Dib helped her fill out tedious paperwork. She mostly let Dib do it, answering the occasional question when needed. She scratched at her wrist through her gloves until she was called back. Dib stood with her and walked her down a hallway to a small office. The placard on the door said ‘Dr. Calendula, Psy.D.’ Zim just barely had time to read it before Dib pushed open the door. The office was small with a few bookshelves and two chairs, one empty and one occupied by a woman. The room was illuminated by a window and a standing lamp that let off a soft, yellow light.

“Hey,” Dib spoke to the woman with a level of familiarity. She had dark hair pulled up into a tidy bun with noticeable graying at her temples, she smiled at Dib as she continued to speak, “This is Zim, we spoke about her over the phone.”

“Yes, come in.” Dr. Calendula waved them inside and turned to Dib. “We should be done in about an hour.” Dib nodded as she exited and Zim cautiously sat down in the chair across from the doctor. She extended her hand and introduced herself. “I’m Dr. Calendula.”

Zim looked at her hand but didn’t return the gesture. “I am Zim.”

Dr. Calendula lowered her hand and spoke, “Dib has told me a lot about you, Zim, but I’d like to get some information about why you’ve come in today, just in your own words.” The older woman’s posture was relaxed as she awaited Zim’s response.

“The Dib-beast insisted I come here; she said it might help with what I have gone through.” Zim avoided her gaze and continued nervously scratching at her wrist. “It was part of an agreement we made when I began living with her.”

The doctor chuckled at the strange nickname before continuing, “Could you tell me more about why you moved in with Dib?”

“My house is not suitable to live in anymore and Dib offered accommodations.” Zim was as frank with her answers as possible, hoping it would get her out of the small office sooner.

“Don’t you have any family you could live with? To my knowledge you and Dib have a…” she paused to find the right word, “complicated relationship.”

Zim sighed, “No, I do not. The people who raised me left me here and I have been living by myself for some time.”

Dr. Calendula furrowed her brows and said, “Dib mentioned some type of abandonment situation over the phone when discussing why you needed appointments on such short notice but didn’t give any details. Would you like to tell me a little more about that? How long have you been alone?”

“Well, I was not alone exactly, I had GIR. It has just been the two of us since I came here when I was 12.” Zim shifted in her seat.

“Who is GIR?” the doctor asked.

“They are my-” Zim paused to correct herself, “they were my companion.” Zim looked at her boots, willing herself not to cry.

Dr. Calendula nodded knowingly. “Do you want to tell me a bit more about them?”

"GIR was a dog... kind of," Zim paused before gradually beginning to ramble, "they were a robot that was given to me, they had a little green dog disguise and I just told everyone they were a dog. I knew they would break eventually; they were not built to last, but I tried my best to keep them functional for as long as I could. They were all I had for a really long time so I got attached, to say the least." Zim became aware that she was scratching at her wrist as she continued talking, "Last Friday I noticed one of their eyes was starting to malfunction again but I elected to fix it later because I needed to go see Dib. Me and Dib had an... altercation, which led to me admitting part of what happened to me. I was unsure of what to do so I ran back home but when I got there GIR was immobile, they used to be very active, so I looked them over to see what I needed to fix." Zim stopped and stared at the floor for a long moment. She faltered, there was a noticeable change in her voice, she was quieter when she started speaking again, "I couldn't fix them. I checked everything and I couldn't figure out why they stopped working. They had intelligence functions but their body wasn't moving and their voice box was glitching and I tried to think of anything I could do but I was still panicking and- and then they just stopped. Their eyes went out and then they were just... gone." Tears started to fall down Zim's cheeks as she finished speaking.

"Zim-" Dr. Calendula started but was quickly interrupted.

"I apologize for rambling. I know it is childish," Zim hurriedly wiped her tears away as she tried to collect herself, straightening her posture and bringing her voice back to its previous timbre. "They were just a robot. Robots break all the time, and it was immature of me to get attached in the first place."

"No, Zim, it's entirely natural to feel this way. People in stressful and traumatic situations attach themselves to things that are stable in their lives, whether it's inanimate objects, people, animals, or otherwise. Your reaction, your grief, it isn't childish; it's an entirely normal reaction to losing something so important to you." Dr. Calendula smiled reassuringly.

Zim paused for a moment before speaking again. "That... is comforting to hear." Zim stopped scratching at her wrist, instead gripping it tightly. “Can I be honest about my expectations coming into this?”

“Of course, it only makes my job easier,” Dr. Calendula said as she jotted something down in her notepad.

“I do not expect you to fix my situation, I am not sure how you even could, I will likely only be coming to you for this week as it is what I agreed upon with Dib.”

“I don’t fix things, Zim,” Dr. Calendula explained, “I only help you learn to deal with them better. Therapy can be helpful and you can make progress but it often doesn’t ‘fix’ it. Especially in cases that deal with trauma like yours, the best we can do is give you a space to talk about what you’re going through and help you learn to live in a healthier manner moving forward.”

“I cease to understand how talking about it could make me healthier. It happened, there is nothing I can do about it. The logical solution is to move on from it.” Zim furrowed her drawn-on brows.

“But you can’t, can you?” Dr. Calendula asked.

Zim stopped, pressing her lips together. She was right, she couldn’t move on. It had been almost a year since she realized that the Tallests left her here, but until a week ago she was clinging to a routine completely based on the idea that she was still on a mission. It had taken her weeks to stop calling them, and it took her even longer to give up on taking over the world. Her eyes filled with tears as she muttered softly, “No… I can’t.” She pushed the thought to the side and wiped her eyes again. “You must be good at why you do; I have never talked to anyone about any of this.”

“I guess you could say that.” Dr. Calendula smiled comfortingly. “Zim, I do think that you could see real improvement if we kept meeting. In the end it’s up to you, but I encourage you to take your other two appointments this week seriously to evaluate if you think you could get something out of this.”

~<3~

Dib glanced at the clock waiting for Zim to come out of her appointment. When she finally walked out to meet her, Dib took note of the slight puffiness around her eyes, but quickly disregarded it. They walked silently out to the car and got in, there was a long silence as Dib started the car but didn't take it out of park.

"So," Dib spoke first, "How did you like it?"

"It was... not terrible." Zim wrung her gloved hands together nervously. "It was nice to talk about it with someone who understands the inner workings of the mind in such detail."

"Yeah, Dr. Calendula really knows her stuff. I've been seeing her for years now, she's really great." Dib looked at Zim, her expression stayed neutral as she stared out the windshield.

"Why did you start coming here?" Zim asked bluntly.

Dib chuckled slightly at the question. "My mom made me come at first, I think she thought it would snap me out of the whole supernatural sciences thing and focus on ‘real science’," Dib said, her distaste for her mother's attitude toward her interests abundantly clear, "but, Dr. Calendula actually listened to me and talked to me about the issues that I wanted to talk about. So, I kept going."

Zim nodded and said, "I was surprised at how easily I opened up to her. I am starting to think that I needed someone to listen to me more than I thought."

"I felt exactly the same when I first started going to her. I didn’t think I needed it at first either… but I’m not ashamed to say I was wrong.” Dib put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

~<3~

They got home uneventfully. The pair didn’t talk much but the silence wasn’t tense; in fact, it was almost calm. Dib went up to her room as soon as they got home, and Zim went back to her sorting. As she completed the tedious task, her mind drifted back to what she had spoken about with Dr. Calendula. She’d avoided her thoughts for so long. Why did it need to come up now? Why couldn’t she just keep avoiding it? It never did her any good to think about it anyway.