A Parade of Indignities

Chapter 11: Of Half-Baked Revelations and Fueling the Fire

Chapter art created and owned by Rllybritrlly.

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Dib's body felt divorced from his mind, acting on its own accord as muscle memory led him down the familiar path to Zim's house. His feet took the same steps they had a thousand times before. Every single one of those prior times, it had been to ensure that Zim wasn't in the midst of plotting anything that could put mankind in legitimate danger. Now, though, it was Zim, himself, who was the one in danger.

The sole thing keeping Dib connected to reality was the muffled crunch of his boots through the snow and the fog of his breath as it trailed out in front of him. The weather here was never consistent. Especially not in April. It was often warm one day and in single digits the next, teasing the citizens for weeks until late spring drifted in at long last, bringing with it mild rains and peppering the city with wildflowers.

The wind nipped at his exposed skin, it's intensity nearly blinding him. Dib kept a straight face, though, as he ambled on through the dim light of the streetlamps.

Never before had be felt so...absent. Absent of rationale and a clear, concrete motive. Absent of that tie that brought him down to earth and provided him with the logic to make informed decisions based on judgement instead of hunches. Something almost otherworldly seemed to compel him to keep moving forward, to trudge down the snow-covered sidewalk and ignore the maelstrom of snow flurries and blistering cold around him.

Perhaps this was what insanity felt like. True insanity. The omission of reason in his actions, replaced instead with blind persistence and recklessness. Even more than that, though, it was utter peace with the open acknowledgement of it.

Dib's eyes were fixed stoically ahead in an expression void of any emotion. If one were to even begin to understand his motive, or lack thereof, it could perhaps be understood through a building of disorder. It began with something small and unexplained and manifested itself until it was unable to be ignored. Chaos theory, he supposed. Or perhaps something a little more subtle. Blowing on a fire to keep it alive.

It began with the decision to give that little recording device to GIR, and then everything had spiraled from there.

And Dib... well, he had helped it along. He had listened in on the progress convention. He had pressed the button on Tak's ship that sent the distress signal several galaxies away.

As he considered this, his pace began to pick up a bit, long legs taking great strides down the sidewalk.

In the days that followed, he had passed by Zim's house, gaze lingering on it from the safety of the sidewalk. He had broken down in the skool bathroom, hot, bitter tears running down his cheeks. He had tried to contact Zim's ship yet again in a final desperate attempt to reach him.

Dib made it to the intersection at Haverford and Maple before pressing forward, arms swinging stiffly by his side as he sped up little by little.

When Zim had returned, it was him who had initiated the conversation, demanding to know what had happened despite having no logical reason to care. He had forced the issue.

Just one more block.

Dib's heartbeat picked up in his chest, his breath quickening. He frowned, then began to unconsciously break into a slight jog. The streetlights lined the way, gossamer yellows peeking through the heavy fog.

He had taken it yet another step further by breaking into Zim's base, discovering things about him that not even Zim, himself, knew... or at least things he would never admit to.