A Parade of Indignities

Chapter 13: Of Bittersweet Nostalgia and the Invader's Guide to Bounty Hunting

Chapter art created and owned by LuckyRabbit1927.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Daybreak burst across the skies in a sea of pastels as the sun languidly made its appearance over the town graveyard. A nip of cold still lingered, but it added a unique crispness to the air that almost seemed to declare impending vitality in the coming days. It was a promise of wild bergamot and black-eyed susans, greener lawns, and the pattering of rain on rooftops to replace the blustering snowstorms.

Deep within the mass of grave markers and budding springtime grass was the silhouette of a hunch figure. He was barely visible, perched on the hill and sitting cross-legged. An unmistakable tuft of thick, scythe-like hair jutted from his head, ending in a somewhat disheveled point.

Mourning doves cried out with their soulful laments, breaking the silence in the most delicate way possible. Even the wind was gentle, as if it, too, were mindful of the sacred moment it had intruded upon.

Dib's head dipped forward, and an ample breath of morning air filled his lungs as his shoulders slumped. He held it for a moment and finally released it in a long, deep sigh. He was facing a large headstone, wiped clean of moss, grime, and anything else the elements could offer. It gleamed just as it had the day she had been buried.

He had needed a break from the neuroticism and stench of illness that had taken hold of Zim's house. The night before had been its own brand of frustration. Just before the break of dawn, Dib had tried in vain to get some bland food in Zim's system again, only for the half-conscious Irken to alternate between shrinking away and hissing balefully at him. He still seemed hopelessly out of it, too feverish and delusional to do anything but feebly lash out at what he likely perceived to be some unseen enemy. Every now and then, his husky coughing would give way to a fit of gagging and, a few times, the arrival of more bile. Dib would stand beside him vacuously, smoothing the thick bases of his antennae back with one shaking hand to prevent them from falling in his face while he doubled over and heaved into the little wastebin.

Dib had seen enough alien barf in the last three days to last him several lifetimes. He swore he could still hear Zim's throaty, congested coughing ringing in his ears. He needed a moment to breathe. More than that, he needed a sanctuary without sick Irkens or manic robots, so that he could reflect on what could potentially be a fatal decision.

Even if they managed to get to this planet intact, who's to say anyone would even be willing to help Zim? Dib knew the gist; the "invader" was a pariah among his own race. A wanton criminal. What he was thinking of doing was nothing short of a potential death sentence, for both him and Zim.

But...the alternative was certain death. If Elixus was their only slim chance at fixing this, then Dib's piquing idealism would inevitably find a way to get the best of him.

Staring fixedly at the grass and springing dandelions at his feet, he finally looked up at the headstone he was facing. The words CATHERINE MEMBRANE stared back at him, embossed on the front in somber block letters. He glanced back down, chest inflating as he inhaled another deep sigh. He visited this place often. More so than he'd like to admit, especially lately.

Dib wasn't religious. Honestly, it was the last thing on his mind, and the minds of his family members when he was growing up. He didn't know if there was a God, or a heaven, nor had he thought much on the subject. Maybe it was the childlike dreamer inside of him who held onto the hope that the spirit of his mother still existed in some form, though. That, in some way, she was still able to guide him along. He supposed it was wishful thinking, at best. Hell, just turning the idea over in his head sounded rather pathetic. But...well...he wanted to believe.