nexusverse dib gets blasted by a car

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A few days ago- more than two, but less than four- Dib and Zim got into a fight. They've been doing that more than usual lately, more intense than usual. Ever since that disaster at Fries N' Fat. Ever since things got a little too familiar. Ever since things bubbled over. Ever since they were dared to be nice to each other, and they fell so easily into it, comfortably, they even kept going after the game was over, hanging out together, getting fries and shakes together, talking and joking and enjoying their time together. And then they realized what they were doing. And it all fell apart.

Ever since, Zim has been so.... fucking awful!! He's always awful. He's awful, horrible terrible- but Zim isn't normally this bad! And when he is, it's usually something brief, and then it all goes back to normal levels of awful again. But this time, this time Zim is just being nonstop awful, all the fucking time. And Dib can't fucking stand it!! How fucking dare Zim make him realize complicated thoughts and feelings, only to immediately turn and throw them back in his face, and be so fucking awful? What is his fucking damage!!
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And Zim only gets worse when they're in that Murder Village place. And Dib can't even complain about that to his sister! She would think he's crazy- Gaz doesn't normally think he's crazy. Sometimes she'll call him crazy, or tell other people he's crazy, but it's always been to get under his skin or ruin his day if he'd pissed her off somehow. She never truly meant it. She never thought he was crazy, never truly disbelieved him about the paranormal, she just didn't care.

But the first time he'd tried to tell her about the things he'd seen and done in that strange place, she'd given him this look... like he was crazy. And that had actually shut him up. Made him go straight to his room, and resolve to keep everything about that weird dimensional nexus to himself. No one would ever believe him- except Zim, since he's been there, too. But Dib can't exactly get Zim to testify to his sister- probably not before, but certainly not now, not when he's being so awful.
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Maybe that's why it upsets Dib so much? Well, not that he can't get Zim to testify about the Nexus to Gaz, specifically. But that Zim is the only one who believes him, who gives a shit about what he does, even if it's as his enemy. And that he and Zim had started to almost... bond, that way. They'd been growing closer for a while now, Dib had realized. He'd realized it just before Zim had splattered his milkshake all down his front and ran away and became awful. Despite everything, Zim's the only one who Got him, that could meet Dib on certain levels. Especially in the Nexus, when they'd have moments of clarity together, when they'd reach out to one another between their awful behavior to each other, sit together, enjoy the same music together, and that would even extend to their world, whenever they weren't using lunch or recess to fight. When they'd be baffled at the behavior of the other guests in the Nexus, at how much they cared, at how alone they were back here on Earth, how nobody cared. But they cared. Zim cared. Dib cared. Just them.

Zim had said something, back then, didn't he? "It's just you and me, there." he'd said. And he was spot on. It's just Dib and Zim, here on Earth, where nobody cares but them, even if it's as enemies. It's just them. Alone. But together.

And isn't that weird? It could probably even be called fucked up. But it made sense. And it worked. At least, Dib thought it did.
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So why did he have to be so awful? Why couldn't things at least go back to how they were, if they must remain enemies? At least that way, they were alone together. But now it was like Zim was trying to drive Dib away or end him for good, and it hurt. Dib hated it. What happened?? What happened to alone, together??

So, they fight, worse than before. Scrapes and bruises quickly became normal features for them, with their daily scuffles. They chase each other around town, like they're doing now. Yelling, fighting, with whatever weapons or gadgets they have at their disposal, but just as often with just their fists and their feet. They chase each other up and down the streets, the parks, the alleys, the parking lots, the school grounds, the local businesses, anywhere and everywhere that Zim can cause a scene, cause trouble, hate Dib, goad him into hating him back.

They've stopped at the edge of a street, Dib standing up on the curb, Zim in front of him, mocking him, yelling at him, Dib yelling and mocking back, fists clenched and knuckles hurting. It doesn't really matter what Zim is saying, what Dib is saying back. It's always the same general thing, isn't it? It's the status quo, but worse. It's going through the motions, but worse. It's following the script, but worse.

But the screech of car tires isn't part of the script, and Dib looks to the source of the sound, and he sees it. Some asshole driver barreling hard around the corner, over the speed limit, big hulking hunk of metal carrying far too much kinetic force and momentum.
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Suddenly, Dib realizes everything everyone always says about these kinds of moments, those unbelievable anecdotes about how it feels like time slows down for everything but you, are all completely true. Everything is so slow, suddenly, and he can see it all. He can see it all. He can see that the man driving the car has only one hand on the wheel, the other holding a messy burrito. He can see how the man isn't looking at the road in front of him, far too occupied with the dribblings of his snack that had made a mess of his shirt during the harsh turn. He can see that there would never be enough time for the man to stop his car before reaching them. He can see that it would drive directly through the spot exactly where Zim is standing. And he can see that Zim hasn't noticed the way things have gone off script, hasn't heard the harsh squeal of rubber on asphalt.


People are going to say that, in that moment, Dib didn't think. That he didn't think about Irken durability, that Zim can take more damage than Dib can. That he didn't think about how Irkens had an insanely high rate of healing. That he didn't think about how, even if the impact had killed Zim, his PAK would simply revive his body, whereupon he could get right to that healing, and be perfectly fine. That he didn't think that humans, especially preteen boys, even particularly durable ones, have none of those advantages.

And yeah, Dib didn't think of any of that. But he did think. He thought about him and Zim, alone, together. He thought that he didn't want to be just alone. He thought, despite all that he's said and imagined, when the reality is laid out before him, he doesn't actually want to see Zim hurt, broken, or dead. He thought only that he didn't want to take the risk of losing Zim forever.
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So, as time was still so slow, the car and all it's momentum and kinetic force inching towards the only one in the world that cares, the one that Dib is the only one in the universe who cares about, Dib shouts "Zim, look out!" and lunges forward, grabbing Zim, ignoring his protests and his struggling, turning, using the momentum to throw Zim around, to the safety of the curb.

Only, that left Dib in Zim's place. And suddenly, time isn't so slow anymore. Suddenly, it all comes back with the normal passage of time, all the speed, all the momentum, all the kinetic force, and how had Dib found the time to think all those thoughts, to move as he'd done, when now he barely has the time to look at the car and meet the driver's eyes in a fraction of a second, barely time to gasp, barely time, to even raise a hand to brace himself in futility.


There's a second screech of tires as the car finally tries to stop, far, far too late. There's the sound of the impact, the sound of tires bumping over something they shouldn't. There's the sickening crunching sound of the human body bending and compacting in ways it wasn't meant to. There's the cut-off sound of Dib's alarmed, and then pained, voice.

There's a third screech of tires when the car picks up speed right after, and flees the scene. There's the sound of a bystander's scream, the sound of another shouting for help. There's the sound of even more screeching tires, as the few nearby cars stop in the wake of disaster. There's the quiet sound of Dib's voice, as he lays broken on the asphalt, dimly aware that he hurts, saying, almost casually, like he'd only been pummeled by his sister or Zim's security gnomes, if it weren't for how reedy his voice has become, "...ow?"

None of that was supposed to be part of the script.
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