A Cup A Day - A ZADR Fanfiction

Defective

(CW: Anxiety attack.)

After a day of work, Zim would walk back to his base to relax. Or, at least, attempt to relax. It was easier said than done. Being home alone felt so draining. He would walk into the living room to see GIR acting as if everything was normal. GIR never processed what was wrong.
"Hi mastah!! Did you get the monies???" GIR spoke enthusiastically, bouncing on thr couch at the sight of Zim. Zim continued to walk down to his underground levels, not making eye contact with the smaller robot.
"Yes, GIR, keep watching the television for important notices." Zim gave an excuse for GIR to stay on the upper level. Zim never had enough energy to tolerate GIR's shenanigans, Zim struggled even taking care of himself nowadays. Zim walked into the trash can. "Computer, take me to my scheming room." Zim commanded. Without a response, Zim was driven down a couple levels to his scheming room.
His 'scheming room' was more or less a bedroom mixed with a living room. After the florpus incident, Zim came to the conclusion that hiding in a cramped toilet wasn't the most comfortable seat. So Zim made a hide out room instead, with special beds designed to help Irkens heal quickly as well as simulation activities for entertainment.
Once Zim arrived to his scheming room, he sat himself down on his bed. "Zim did well today, accomplished what was needed." Zim looked down at his hands and fiddled with his three fingers, a spaced out yet worried expression on his face. "GIR! Come to the scheming room immediately!!" Zim shouted out. Shortly after, he heard a high pitched scream and the sound of crashing metal. A few moments of silence passed until GIR arrived in the lower levels where Zim was.
"Yes master!" GIR replied as his eyes glowed red, saluting Zim.
"I want you to entertain me. You know me best, GIR. After the Almighty Tallest cut me off, I have felt immense boredom and a lack of feeling-" Zim spoke. He knew that was an understatement, but he couldn't be completely honest with GIR. Even though he wanted to, GIR was too immature for such topic. "- So I can trust you as my assistant to find something 'fun' to do."
GIR smiled and whirled his head 360°. "I know just what!! Wait right here!!" GIR exclaimed before running off to the corner, shuffling through his junk. He soon returned with a box of puppets he made out of paper bags and markers, topped with glitter and googly eyes.
GIR reached into the box and pulled up two puppets. Tallest Red and Purple. Zim felt a slight wave of dissapointment and a gut sinking emotion. "GIR." He tried to catch GIR's attention, though the robot was oblivious.
"Once upon a time.. there were two kings!! They were tall... and angry.... but so great!!" GIR spoke with a happy tone. He didn't know.
"GIR, I don't want-" Zim tried to politely turn GIR down. He was too emotionally shocked and hurt to be assertive.
GIR continued with a bright smile on his face. "Then, they found mastah!!! Thats you! And sent you on a mission!" Gir seemed to have such joy and blissful ignorance in his eyes as he smiled and spoke.
Zim rolled his hands into a fist, holding the sides of his head with overwhelming energy. "GIR. I command you to stop." Zim tried to speak with a more dire and stern tone of voice.
"You are the bestest invader on the bestest mission, they love you so much!" GIR continued, practically rambling to himself. Zim couldn't stand the reminder, and GIR wasn't quitting. Zim felt his head pulse as his throat closed up in a fight or flight response. He continued to plead to GIR before snapping.
"GIR!!" Zim yelled, pushing his arms out and shoving GIR to the side with force. GIR made a grunt sound as his metal body hit the floor. GIR looked shocked at first, then turned to Zim and began to tear up.
Zim's facial expression fell from anger, to shock and guilt. GIR cried, but it wasn't like the annoying screeching sounds like usual. It was tears of shock, confusion, hurt. "M-master..." GIR stuttered. "That hurted.." Zim's gut dropped. His pak began to beep as Zim started to hyperventilate.
Zim's spider like claws from his pak, Zim almost immediately tried to flee. Computer!! Take me to the lab!!" Zim spoke with a frantic tone, banging at the elevator doors until it opened. His chest began to bang out of his chest rapidly as his squeedily-spooch beated intensely. It quickly escorted him to his lab, where he ran to his keyboard, looking through his folders. He was frantic, crying, searching for any information on how to cure this emotion. Though, for every article, came great pain.
"Emotion felt in defects."
"Defectives inability to react accordingly to stress."
"Defects not welcome in the Armada."
Defective. Defective. Defective. It's all that passed through Zim's head. He dropped to his knees, sobbing as he clawed at his head. His distress only made him hurt worse. It was true, he WAS defective. Zim screamed in distress, his chest tightening during his panic. His pak beeped once more. Before Zim could process what it was saying, he felt himself slip out of consciousness as he blacked out.