Chapter Text
It wasn’t real.
There was no possible way that this could have actually happened. It was entirely inconceivable. Sure, Dib had spent the past 5 years of his life fighting that alien, but there was no way that one of their fights had gone this far. Zim never got close enough to actually lay a finger on him, and Dib doubted that he even wanted to. They just played an endless game of cat and mouse, with Dib doing his civil duty and keeping Zim out of enough trouble that he didn’t destroy the Earth.
And yet here he was.
His father wasn’t even here - of course his father wasn’t here. Dib gritted his teeth, tuning out what the doctor was telling him. It couldn’t be true. There was no way that Zim had scuffed him up that badly. This had to be some horrible fever dream, and tomorrow morning he’d wake up in bed, and go to skool, and continue all the surface-level fights that kept him entertained.
“Dib?” The doctor asked. She was younger, in her 30’s, with a soft face and motherly concern written all over it. “Do you understand what’s happened?
“I lost my arm.” He stated, mind numb to his own words.
“That’s right.” She nodded. She noted that the boy hadn’t glanced at his shoulder yet, or at the bandages, instead keeping his gaze fixated on the ceiling above his hospital bed. But then again, he’d just woken up from a very serious surgery. He could process this all in his own time. “I’ve let your father know that you’re up, and I think your sister is in the waiting room. Would you like to see her?”
See Gaz? Like this? See anyone like this? Dib clenched his eyes shut, and shook his head. “Where are my glasses?”
“Just on the nightstand. To your right.” She offered, making some notes in his file. “This is a big change, Dib. I know that it’s going to be difficult, especially at your age. But you’re in good hands here, and the team in charge of your rehabilitation worked with your father when he lost his arms. We’re all experienced and we’re going to do our best to make sure that you’re well looked after.”
Dib blinked, grabbing his glasses and sitting them on his nose. The world came into focus, and he exhaled slowly, becoming more aware of the tubes in his stomach and nose. “Did they catch him?”
“Catch who?” The doctor asked.
“Zim. The one who… did this.” His voice cracked towards the end of the sentence, and he internally swore. He wasn’t going to cry over this. He wasn’t.
“Dib…” She sighed softly. Perhaps this was a conversation that he probably needed to have with the psychiatric team. “You did this.”
Dib sniffled, suppressing a sob that was growing at the back of his throat. “Oh.”
“Once we get you into rehabilitation, we’ve got an amazing outpatient program lined up for you as well-“
“Please leave.”
“What?” She frowned.
“ Leave, please.” Dib pleaded. “I just, please . Give me a moment.”
“Okay.” She said softly, placing his file back into it’s spot on the wall. “The buzzer is just under your right hand if you need it. The medical team is here for you.”
He didn’t let himself cry until the door was closed.
——
15 is a weird age.
15 is an age where you’re trying to discover your self identity. It’s an age where you start to become your own person outside of the family unit, and it’s an age where you experiment with who you are and your own interests and ideas. 15 is an age where you have enough independence to discover yourself with the safety net of a family home behind you.
At 15, Dib was sitting in the hospital wing of Membrane Labs because he had lost his left arm in a fight with an alien. And everyone thought that he’d done it to himself.
It had been 3 days since Dib had woken up to the horrible body he now found himself in. At first, it had been shock. The fact that he’d actually been maimed by the Irken was actually astounding to him. Then it had been anger. Mostly anger towards Zim, for taking their fight too far, but now it was more so anger at his father for not having visited his son in the entire 3 days that he’d been here.
Well, that was a lie. One of the doctors had said he’d visited at 1:34 in the morning and left at 1:37, while Dib was sleeping, as that was all his schedule had allowed for. Dib hadn’t counted that, because he’d literally been here three minutes, and hadn’t even bothered to leave a note. All he’d brought was a chemistry textbook for a little bit of ‘light reading’ while he was bed bound.
If Dib had two hands still, he would absolutely rip his father open next time he stepped foot in the room.
Gaz visited, at least. She brought him flowers, and would sit beside him on the visiting chair to watch TV whenever she wasn’t at skool. She wasn’t the most talkative, but Dib appreciated that. How could he even put forward these emotions in words to her? He made an effort not to think about what life was going to be like for him once he was outside of this room. He couldn’t go back to skool like this, and he doubted there were very many paranormal investigators with one arm. What about his trench coat? His famous article of clothing… it would look stupid with one sleeve empty.
“Has Dad visited yet?” Gaz asked quietly when the show they were watching snapped to commercial break.
“Not while I was awake.” Dib responded, staring at his lap. “I don’t think he wants to.”
“Hmm.” She frowned. “I hear he’s working on building you a prosthetic, though. Apparently his are pretty good, and the one he’s building for you is even better.”
Dib felt ill at the thought of anything on the stump of where his left arm once was. “I…”
“He’ll probably tell you about it, eventually.” She shrugged, digging through her backpack for her Game Slave. “Vampire Piggies 4 or Supernatural Zombie Dance Dance Revolution?”
“Vampire Piggies.” Dib mumbled.
“Classic, I like it man.” She offered him a small smile, putting the game cartridge in the back and booting it up. “Anyway. Um. I just wanted to say that. I believe you.”
“What?”
“There’s a lot of talk about how it happened. Because, they found you in the basement with Dad’s lazer knife, and they thought that you did it yourself because only your fingerprints were on the handle. But Zim wears gloves, and I know that you didn’t cut off your own arm.”
“Yeah.” Dib responded half-heartedly. “They all think I’m crazy.”
She chuckled, rolling her eyes. “They’ve thought you’re crazy forever . You’re not, Dib. Don’t let this slow you down. Show them they’re wrong.”
“Huh.” Although him and Gaz had gotten closer as they’d grown older, niceties from his younger sister were still a rarity, and he couldn’t hide his smile. “Thanks.”
——-
It was a week later that a little green boy with a skin condition and his ‘emotional support taco-eating dog’ came to the medical wing of Membrane labs.
It wasn’t a trip filled with malice, although Zim would say otherwise if you ever asked him. He’d brought a bunch of flowers, after the computer told him that it was an acceptable present for someone who had been through a traumatic injury, he’d dug through the gardens of his neighbour and marched into the ward with an arrangement of roses.
“Oh, here to visit Dib?” The lady at the reception desk had repulsive pink cheeks and a disgustingly happy demeanor. “He’d love to see someone from school! We’ve been really worried about him. Come, this way! I’ll show you to his room.”
“Victory for Zim!” Zim smiled, following her down the hall.
It wasn’t a very big ward. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t an actual hospital. It was the wing of the labs that Membrane had ordered to be built after a few of his test children fell unwell due to side effects of his experiments. He’d used it himself, many years before when he had lost his own arms. At least now there was first-class healthcare within the building, and Dib mostly had the ward and the medical staff to himself.
The nurse knocked a few times on the door, before smiling and opening it. “Dib! Your friend has come to visit you, isn’t that wonderful?”
Dib didn’t respond, his eyes glued to the small television in the corner of the room. Zim couldn’t help but notice how awful he looked. Normally, his arch-rival was standing ready to pounce, either there to try and stop one of Zim’s schemes, or he had one of his own to prove the boy wasn’t from this earth. But here, his eyes were dark, his body was still, and his face lacked all interest and emotion. Misery , was the filthy human emotion he seemed to be experiencing.
“Dib-Thing?” Zim asked uncertainly, approaching the boy and holding the roses out at him. “I have come to… erm…”
Dib turned to face him, and his face changed. No longer was he still and apathetic, his face was written with a disgusting mix of anger and confusion. “What are you doing here?”
“He came to see you!” The nurse smiled. “I’ll leave you boys to have some private time! I’m only a buzz away!”
“No, wait! This is the alien that-” He sighed as the door closed behind her, and he faced back to Zim. “Come to finish the job, huh?”
“Finish?” Zim tilted his head in confusion. “You disappeared from Skool and I needed to erm…”
“Check on me?” Dib almost laughed. “What? You chop my arm off and then you miss me?”
Cut his arm off? Zim frowned, before glancing down and- oh. It was true then, the rumours. Dib had in fact lost his left arm. Zim lightly poked at the stump with his gloved hand. “How long will it take to grow back?”
“Grow back ?” This time, Dib did laugh, although it was dripping with malice. “Zim, it’s never going back. You cut my fucking arm off and I’m going to be a cripple forever. ”
“O-Oh…” The alien was quite taken aback by this, and Dib took it as an opportunity to dig.
“What, do your limbs grow back? I guess it doesn’t matter now. It’s not like I’m ever going to be able to stop you again. You’ve won Zim, congratulations!”
“Oh, come on, Dib-Stink.” Zim rolled his eyes. “I have no doubt you’ll want to continue trying to diffuse my GENIUS evil plans. You’ve been doing so for the last… eh… 4 filthy human years! You’ll never stop! It’s what makes you who you are!”
“Well, you fucking took it from me.” He growled, turning to face the TV again. “And don’t touch me, alien. You’re cold and disgusting.”
Zim pulled his arm away hesitantly. “Dib-Stink… I didn’t…”
“I don’t care what you have to say, Zim.” Dib refused to look at him. “Just get out. Go take over the world. I don’t care anymore. Get out, or I’m gonna call the nurse and have you kicked out.”
Gir placed a tin of tuna on the boy’s nightstand as a peace offering, before Zim tugged on the leash, and dragged him out of the hospital room. Dib let out a deep sigh, ignoring the growing storm of emotions inside him, and instead focusing on the daytime TV shows playing quietly in the corner.
------
It came time to go home.
One of the nurses who had actually managed to have a conversation or two with Dib had offered to drive him, along with Gaz, but considering that Membrane Labs and his front door were about 200 metres apart, he really didn’t need a lift. Gaz brought him in his clothes, and after a final approval by the doctor, were given permission to leave.
Dib wasn’t surprised that his father wasn’t there for the occasion. He still hadn’t seen the man in person since the incident. He’d found a few emails, one written by his assistant wishing him a speedy recovery, and two with photos of various prosthesis prototypes.
Dib had deleted them.
It felt weird, to walk. He hadn’t been bed bound, but other than a two step walk to the bathroom and back, he hadn’t really had any reason to be on his feet. Actually walking out the front door without his arm was… nauseating. His balance felt completely off, and he ended up with an arm around Gaz for stability as they stumbled across the lawn.
“I-I’m sorry, I-”
“It’s okay, Dib. Don’t freak out about it. I’ve got you.” She assured, putting a hand on his back to further steady him.
The house looked the same as Gaz pushed her key into the front door. The same Membrane-themed appliances, the same TV and sofa, the same kitchen. Even Foodio, who came rolling towards the front door with a smile on his metal face.
“Sir Dib! Welcome home ! I hope you feel the love within the walls. What is love ?”
“Hey, Foodio.” Dib mumbled. “Return to base.”
Gaz helped her brother to the sofa while Foodio skittered back into the kitchen and back to it’s charging dock. “Do you want some snacks or a drink or something?”
“No, thanks.” Dib responded quietly. “Thanks, though.”
“It’s okay.” She grabbed herself a soda before sitting next to him. “So, Dad told me that he didn’t want you in physio because once you got the prosthesis sorted, you wouldn’t need to know any of the stuff they teach you, because apparently he didn’t need it. Anyway, I told him that that was bullshit, and I’ve got his credit card, so I’m thinking maybe I could… organise that for you?”
“He didn’t want me in physio ?” Dib blinked. “I lost my arm !”
“He’s dumb as fuck.” Gaz responded, matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to check with you first.”
“I didn’t even ask him for a prosthesis.” He muttered. “Thanks, Gaz. At least someone cares what I think about my own injury.”
There wasn’t really a lot Gaz could say to help her brother come to terms with this any easier. It was going to be hard on him, and hard on them both. Staring at him, he looked so different now. His sleeve was empty, he leaned on his right side, and the usual endless ‘fight’ in his eyes was replaced by what she assumed to be hopelessness. This wasn’t the brother she knew, but there wasn’t really anything she could say to help bring him back.
“I’m sorry.” Dib mumbled, noticing her quiet gaze down at her lap. “This isn’t your issue.”
“It is. You’re my brother, man. I’ve got your back.” She paused. “Do you want to… watch something, or is it cool if I play video games?”
“Go ahead.” Dib responded, resting his head back. “I need some normal.”
“Of course.”
----
Going to bed that night was weird.
Foodio had served up some soup for dinner, so Dib didn’t have to worry about using cutlery, and instead just focus on the spoon. It was an appreciated measure, considering he’d tried to open the fridge with a hand that was no longer there about 3 times already. Sure, he put his spoon down to grab a drink, and then lost the spoon in the soup and Gaz had to clean it off for him, but overall, he’d dubbed it a successful meal.
Gaz had offered to watch a movie or reruns of some TV shows he liked, but in the end, Dib just went upstairs to hopefully get some sleep. He’d watched enough TV in the past few weeks, and his eyes needed a rest.
Still, it felt weird to walk upstairs without his left hand dragging on the banister.
Changing into his pyjamas was the next task, and one he was unsure he could face. However, his reluctance to call his sister in to help him with the simple task fueled him, and it was fairly easy to get undressed. He pulled his coat off, laying it over his chair for now instead of trying to get it back on it’s coathanger, then kicked his jeans off and pulled his t-shirt over his head.
Pyjamas. Easy to look at, soft to the touch, but proving to be quite the task to get back on.
The shirt was easy at first, putting his left shoulder in and then letting his arm go through the right sleeve, but after several minutes of trying to force the buttons together, he decided he could come back to that. Every time he’d get it close enough, his fingers just wouldn’t do the right thing, and drop it again.
Pants were harder. Dib first tried holding the pant legs out in front of him, but without the stability of a second grip, he tripped and stumbled over.
“Are you okay?!” Gaz called from downstairs.
“Fine!” He called back, before sighing and glancing at the garment. It might be easier to try another way.
In the end, he had success on the bed, sitting down and looping his feet through the holes that way, and pulling them up from there. Now, just these buttons…
Dib had fought aliens, been in a fight with ghosts, and saved the Earth that one time, but none of that compared to how hard doing up these buttons was. They just kept slipping from his grip every time, and he was starting to grit his teeth in frustration. He must have been sitting there for a good half hour, when there was a soft knock at his door. “Son?”
Dib immediately froze. “D-Dad?”
Membrane pushed the door open, his goggles and coat masking any emotion he may have been expressing. Taking note of the situation, he wandered over and bent down, quickly buttoning Dib’s shirt up before he had a chance to say anything. After that was sorted, he placed the trenchcoat back on it’s coathanger, before heading back for the door.
“Get some sleep, son. School tomorrow. And then therapy.”
“School?! I’ve been home one day! I-I-”
The door closed softly, Membrane already gone. Dib just sighed and flopped back on the bed. He’d never felt so out of control.