Fic: Release PG-13
Title: Release
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
This comes after the following:
Function
Static
Love
There were many corridors in the black space that Rimmer inhabited. There was no light to see by except an ambient glow that came from the doors that held back the various loops of memory and caches of knowledge. He avoided these warily, making his way through the narrow hallway. He felt the smooth surface of the walls with his hands, the tips of his fingers slipping just beneath the surface of the cool metal to detect where the threads of data would thicken, and lead to the next door. Sometimes he would encounter a place where the passage broke away, and recessed several feet. He would rest in these alcoves and listen to the ghosts of his thoughts pass by, hidden in the shadows.
He’d been conscious, apart from the blackness, for longer than he could remember previously. He could recall a great number of things. His name, a house on Io with long, slender hallways and winding stairs that would creak on the third and fifteenth steps, containing a family that had produced a son with a temperament so unlike theirs that he could never hope to be understood. Rimmer knew that these people would not approve of the other disjointed memories: his failure to succeed as an officer, his lack of skill that had caused the accident, his inability to be respected by even a service droid and a house pet!
These were just some of his many failures. These were the memories that drifted to the surface, when he allowed any of the doors to open, so he concentrated on not concentrating on them. He would keep the doors closed. The few times he’d allowed himself to access a door that he sensed held a pleasant sensation behind it, it never failed to also house a good deal of regret and shame. He didn’t want to think about what was behind the ones that felt icy and dreadful to the touch.
He’d rest here for now, safe in the darkness with fragments of pleasant memories he’d retrieved. Hot tea. The winter where he’d had a winning streak of seventeen consecutive Risk victories. Nirvanah’s embrace. He had no memory of how he’d gotten here, and only a sinking suspicion of where he was. Confirming it might open the doors, after all.
“You don’t know what he’s like.” Lister sighed, as he rummaged through his collection of adapters to find one suitable for the AR machine. “Like this one time, when we were playing a total immersion video game. It was supposed to give you whatever you desire, right, but Rimmer’s mind couldn’t accept anything good happening, not even when he knew it wasn’t real. Totally smegging ruined it for all of us. Thing is, I think the problem’s not with the hardware anymore, it’s him, the man, the mind, the software. The bee is intact, the data’s maybe ninety percent what it should be. You said that in theory, ten soft resets should have woken him up, right?”
Kochanski frowned, a small crease forming between her brows. “Actually, one or two should have done it.”
“Right. So I’m going in. Listen, I’ve told you a dozen times already, I’ve done this sort of thing before. You just got to watch me and monitor the machine. The drive is fixed, now it’s just between me and him.” Lister gave her what he hoped was a confident grin. “I won’t be but ten minutes, Krissie. Trust me.” He adjusted the last of the AR gear and tried to look convincing.
She nodded, and opened her mouth to scold him for his ludicrous plan one last time, and when she closed her mouth without having come up with an objection, he knew that he’d won. Seeing the lingering concern in her eyes as he leaned back into his chair, he felt slightly guilty. “I can come out anytime, remember, just clap my hands.”
“Right.” She said finally, and soon her hand on his shoulder ceased to be there. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he reached out to feel with his hand. His fingers met with cool steel panels, much like the ones on Red Dwarf. Beneath him, though, the floor felt crooked. He stood on worn, slightly warped hardwood floors, leading the way down a gloomy hallway, tapering down to a thin point somewhere off to the horizon. His skin prickled as he felt that he could not even extend his arms fully from side to side. Biting his lip, he concentrated on the horizon, which promised a long, if narrow, space ahead.
He could hear a dull roar of whispers, like a talk radio program that wasn’t fully tuned in with the volume tuned down. One of the voices seemed to be calling his name. It was nothing that he could hear clearly, but rather something he could sense. The thought of Lister hovered behind a door panel, warm and smooth to the touch. Curiously, he slid his palm over the panel, wondering if he dared to press the release button.
Suddenly, he was knocked off balance by a force in the darkness. It was as though the entire world had turned in on him and knocked him away from the door for just a split second. A moment later, he was face to face with the man that he’d longed to see for months, now looking down on him in confusion and rage. He held Lister’s wrists in his hands, and Lister was too shocked to shake him free as he felt his body slam against the wall. “Don’t touch that!” Rimmer half screamed, half growled. It was a desperate tone of voice that Lister had never heard before.
“Rimmer!” he gasped, his eyes widening. The older man stiffened, his chest heaving erratically as he met Lister’s eyes for the first time. “Who are you?” Rimmer demanded, his voice low and trembling. He was certain that he knew this man. He’d seen him in the data that he’d pushed back, but the thought of the data made flesh, here with him; of the data coming to life, chilled him to his core.
“Rimmer… It’s me… Lister, remember? Dave Lister? Come on, I know that you… remember.” Lister’s eyes drifted towards the door. “That’s what you’ve got in there, isn’t it? Me?”
“You? I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean.” Rimmer’s arms were trembling. Now that he’d subdued the intruder, he wasn’t sure of what to do next. He only knew that the other man was less frightening than the thought of opening the doors and letting the data loose, drowning him in despair like a flood from a broken dam.
“Listen, Rimmer… Arn… I’m a friend, okay? What you’ve got behind that door are memories. You’ve gotta open the door so that you can remember who you are, who I am. It’s not all bad, I promise. I won’t touch it, okay? You can do it.”
“I don’t want to!” Rimmer blurted out, his grip tightening in frustration. “I don’t want to remember it, okay?” Now that he had gotten himself into this situation, he couldn’t get out. If he let Lister go, there was no telling what would happen.
Rimmer’s eyes were moist; his nose was twitching, his lip trembling. Lister was suddenly reminded of a documentary that he’s seen one night a lifetime ago while curled up with Kris, his Kris, about rabbits. Rabbits, the dull narrator had explained, were prey animals, and lived in constant fear of predators. Their little hearts would beat into panicked frenzy, they would twitch and shake from head to toe, and it was possible to literally frighten one to death. For a split second, the similarities were uncanny. “I swear I won’t touch it, or you, or do anything that you don’t want me to.” He said, quietly. “Just let me go, okay?”
Rimmer’s eyes narrowed to glaring slits. “Fine. But I’m warning you, miladdio, one false move-“
“Look, I told you I’m a friend.” Lister sighed. “I’m the best friend you’ve got. Right now, I’m all you’ve got.” Slowly, Rimmer nodded, and released him. Lister rubbed his wrists and suppressed a grin as he noticed that Rimmer was similarly nursing his own fingers. “Truce, then.” He said, gently.
“Truce.” Rimmer agreed.
“Please trust me.” Lister said. “You’ve got all of these memories locked up in there. You put these barriers up. I’m not gonna lie, you have a lot of smeggy thoughts lurking in there, but it’s not all bad. I really, really need to talk to you, but you have to remember everything first or you’ll never get better. So just break down that door.” he urged. “I need you to come back. I need you to remember.”
Something about that voice registered a feeling of assurance inside of Rimmer, and he brought his hand down on the release button before he could lose his nerve. It was just as he’d feared, and just as Lister had promised. He was drowning, but not all of it was so terrible. Just most of it.
Kochanski gasped as Lister’s body jolted for a second time. She clutched his hand and resisted the urge to pull his helmet off. Muscular spasms were normal in artificial reality, she reminded herself, and if anyone knew their way around an AR machine it was Dave Lister.
Her reassuring train of thought was derailed as the hand in her own suddenly went limp. Her breath caught as she scrambled forward to confirm what she had feared. Once again, the light bee’s motor was silent.
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
This comes after the following:
Function
Static
Love
There were many corridors in the black space that Rimmer inhabited. There was no light to see by except an ambient glow that came from the doors that held back the various loops of memory and caches of knowledge. He avoided these warily, making his way through the narrow hallway. He felt the smooth surface of the walls with his hands, the tips of his fingers slipping just beneath the surface of the cool metal to detect where the threads of data would thicken, and lead to the next door. Sometimes he would encounter a place where the passage broke away, and recessed several feet. He would rest in these alcoves and listen to the ghosts of his thoughts pass by, hidden in the shadows.
He’d been conscious, apart from the blackness, for longer than he could remember previously. He could recall a great number of things. His name, a house on Io with long, slender hallways and winding stairs that would creak on the third and fifteenth steps, containing a family that had produced a son with a temperament so unlike theirs that he could never hope to be understood. Rimmer knew that these people would not approve of the other disjointed memories: his failure to succeed as an officer, his lack of skill that had caused the accident, his inability to be respected by even a service droid and a house pet!
These were just some of his many failures. These were the memories that drifted to the surface, when he allowed any of the doors to open, so he concentrated on not concentrating on them. He would keep the doors closed. The few times he’d allowed himself to access a door that he sensed held a pleasant sensation behind it, it never failed to also house a good deal of regret and shame. He didn’t want to think about what was behind the ones that felt icy and dreadful to the touch.
He’d rest here for now, safe in the darkness with fragments of pleasant memories he’d retrieved. Hot tea. The winter where he’d had a winning streak of seventeen consecutive Risk victories. Nirvanah’s embrace. He had no memory of how he’d gotten here, and only a sinking suspicion of where he was. Confirming it might open the doors, after all.
“You don’t know what he’s like.” Lister sighed, as he rummaged through his collection of adapters to find one suitable for the AR machine. “Like this one time, when we were playing a total immersion video game. It was supposed to give you whatever you desire, right, but Rimmer’s mind couldn’t accept anything good happening, not even when he knew it wasn’t real. Totally smegging ruined it for all of us. Thing is, I think the problem’s not with the hardware anymore, it’s him, the man, the mind, the software. The bee is intact, the data’s maybe ninety percent what it should be. You said that in theory, ten soft resets should have woken him up, right?”
Kochanski frowned, a small crease forming between her brows. “Actually, one or two should have done it.”
“Right. So I’m going in. Listen, I’ve told you a dozen times already, I’ve done this sort of thing before. You just got to watch me and monitor the machine. The drive is fixed, now it’s just between me and him.” Lister gave her what he hoped was a confident grin. “I won’t be but ten minutes, Krissie. Trust me.” He adjusted the last of the AR gear and tried to look convincing.
She nodded, and opened her mouth to scold him for his ludicrous plan one last time, and when she closed her mouth without having come up with an objection, he knew that he’d won. Seeing the lingering concern in her eyes as he leaned back into his chair, he felt slightly guilty. “I can come out anytime, remember, just clap my hands.”
“Right.” She said finally, and soon her hand on his shoulder ceased to be there. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he reached out to feel with his hand. His fingers met with cool steel panels, much like the ones on Red Dwarf. Beneath him, though, the floor felt crooked. He stood on worn, slightly warped hardwood floors, leading the way down a gloomy hallway, tapering down to a thin point somewhere off to the horizon. His skin prickled as he felt that he could not even extend his arms fully from side to side. Biting his lip, he concentrated on the horizon, which promised a long, if narrow, space ahead.
He could hear a dull roar of whispers, like a talk radio program that wasn’t fully tuned in with the volume tuned down. One of the voices seemed to be calling his name. It was nothing that he could hear clearly, but rather something he could sense. The thought of Lister hovered behind a door panel, warm and smooth to the touch. Curiously, he slid his palm over the panel, wondering if he dared to press the release button.
Suddenly, he was knocked off balance by a force in the darkness. It was as though the entire world had turned in on him and knocked him away from the door for just a split second. A moment later, he was face to face with the man that he’d longed to see for months, now looking down on him in confusion and rage. He held Lister’s wrists in his hands, and Lister was too shocked to shake him free as he felt his body slam against the wall. “Don’t touch that!” Rimmer half screamed, half growled. It was a desperate tone of voice that Lister had never heard before.
“Rimmer!” he gasped, his eyes widening. The older man stiffened, his chest heaving erratically as he met Lister’s eyes for the first time. “Who are you?” Rimmer demanded, his voice low and trembling. He was certain that he knew this man. He’d seen him in the data that he’d pushed back, but the thought of the data made flesh, here with him; of the data coming to life, chilled him to his core.
“Rimmer… It’s me… Lister, remember? Dave Lister? Come on, I know that you… remember.” Lister’s eyes drifted towards the door. “That’s what you’ve got in there, isn’t it? Me?”
“You? I haven’t the faintest idea of what you mean.” Rimmer’s arms were trembling. Now that he’d subdued the intruder, he wasn’t sure of what to do next. He only knew that the other man was less frightening than the thought of opening the doors and letting the data loose, drowning him in despair like a flood from a broken dam.
“Listen, Rimmer… Arn… I’m a friend, okay? What you’ve got behind that door are memories. You’ve gotta open the door so that you can remember who you are, who I am. It’s not all bad, I promise. I won’t touch it, okay? You can do it.”
“I don’t want to!” Rimmer blurted out, his grip tightening in frustration. “I don’t want to remember it, okay?” Now that he had gotten himself into this situation, he couldn’t get out. If he let Lister go, there was no telling what would happen.
Rimmer’s eyes were moist; his nose was twitching, his lip trembling. Lister was suddenly reminded of a documentary that he’s seen one night a lifetime ago while curled up with Kris, his Kris, about rabbits. Rabbits, the dull narrator had explained, were prey animals, and lived in constant fear of predators. Their little hearts would beat into panicked frenzy, they would twitch and shake from head to toe, and it was possible to literally frighten one to death. For a split second, the similarities were uncanny. “I swear I won’t touch it, or you, or do anything that you don’t want me to.” He said, quietly. “Just let me go, okay?”
Rimmer’s eyes narrowed to glaring slits. “Fine. But I’m warning you, miladdio, one false move-“
“Look, I told you I’m a friend.” Lister sighed. “I’m the best friend you’ve got. Right now, I’m all you’ve got.” Slowly, Rimmer nodded, and released him. Lister rubbed his wrists and suppressed a grin as he noticed that Rimmer was similarly nursing his own fingers. “Truce, then.” He said, gently.
“Truce.” Rimmer agreed.
“Please trust me.” Lister said. “You’ve got all of these memories locked up in there. You put these barriers up. I’m not gonna lie, you have a lot of smeggy thoughts lurking in there, but it’s not all bad. I really, really need to talk to you, but you have to remember everything first or you’ll never get better. So just break down that door.” he urged. “I need you to come back. I need you to remember.”
Something about that voice registered a feeling of assurance inside of Rimmer, and he brought his hand down on the release button before he could lose his nerve. It was just as he’d feared, and just as Lister had promised. He was drowning, but not all of it was so terrible. Just most of it.
Kochanski gasped as Lister’s body jolted for a second time. She clutched his hand and resisted the urge to pull his helmet off. Muscular spasms were normal in artificial reality, she reminded herself, and if anyone knew their way around an AR machine it was Dave Lister.
Her reassuring train of thought was derailed as the hand in her own suddenly went limp. Her breath caught as she scrambled forward to confirm what she had feared. Once again, the light bee’s motor was silent.