Fic: Mother (PG-13)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
Pairing: Holo-Lister/Kochanski
Warnings:Gore
This comes after the following:
Function
Static
Love
Release
Reunited
Byway
Weaknesses
Trepidation
Awakening
Officers
The List
Aground
Survival
Kochanski wandered through the edge of the forest, her oversized shirt tied up in the front to create a makeshift bowl to collect the scattering of wild raspberries she’d discovered. She waded through a dense fog, smelling the crisp air, feeling the twigs snap under her boots. She’d once gathered berries in cyber school, and the atmosphere brought back fond memories of making Linzer tarts with her simulated friends. For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t focusing on their predicament, and as a result, she was happy.
“Krissie.”
“I’m over here, Dave.” She called. She reached for another cluster of ripe berries; they easily came loose in her hand. She deposited them in her shirt, and licked the sticky red juice from her palm, which stained her skin faintly. She shivered in the cold breeze and eyed the fog warily, debating how much farther she was willing to walk in case she should lose her way.
“Krissie, I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.” Lister’s voice was soft with worry, and carried with it a shade of sadness. She turned to face him, and stumbled backwards in shock. His hair was shorn; his clothes were clean, and there, gleaming on his brow, the all too familiar H, the lack of which she had only recently acclimated herself. A tremor of nervousness gripped her, and she reached out timidly, to feel his outstretched hand. It was warm and solid, and pulsated with a faint, familiar energy.
She yelped, and threw herself at him, berries scattering at her feet. Her heart thundered inside of her chest, and she was laughing, and crying, and screaming all at once.
“Shh.” He said, holding her at arm’s length, giving her a sweet but solemn look.
“You must compose yourself, Ma’am.”
Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Kryten’s gold chest plate through the fog. She opened her mouth, and closed it, baffled by what was happening. “Kryten…” she began. “Dave… I mean… “
“You simply must be still and quiet, Ma’am.” Kryten said, gently. “It’s most disrespectful to make a scene when people are in mourning.”
“Mourning?” She asked, both puzzled and worried. “Mourning for whom?”
The Cat took her arm and led her through the grassy field. His suit was black velvet, and he wore a band of violet satin around his bicep. A lily drooped from his lapel, and his eyes were dark and sad.
“You’re serious, aren’t you.” She said, her eyes flicking to and from her crewmates. “You aren’t kidding. Someone’s died?”
“Of course.” Kryten said. “You don’t think that we’d joke about this, do you? How tacky!” Kryten shook his head in disapproval; and tutted to himself as he extracted a brush from his casing and smoothed down her windblown hair. “Now don’t make a fuss!”
The ground was oddly mushy under her feet, the clumps of grass uneven and spongy. The Cat stopped suddenly, and bowed his head. Lister placed his hand on her shoulder, and sighed. “We’ve got a lot to thank her for, don’t we.” He murmured.
She pushed his hand off, and glared. “Stop fooling around.” She growled. “This joke isn’t funny anymore. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me right now. Whose funeral are we supposedly attending?”
Lister looked at her, and then through her. “The mother of the human race.” He said, quietly. “I’m sorry, Krissie. I really am.” Then he shoved her chest, and she skidded backwards, loosing her footing on the edge of earth behind her. Her fingers scrambled to catch the few jagged rocks along the steep soil, but she fell, connecting with something cold and soft, softer, yet firmer than the grass above her. In the end, she couldn’t help but look, and a scream escaped her as she looked into lifeless eyes identical to her own.
The next time she opened her eyes, the spongy land was still under her. The fog was gone, and in place of clammy flesh and humid air, there was the smell of wood burning, as the campfire burned through its last embers. Standing up quickly, she hopped over the slumbering bodies of her crewmates, and vomited a stomach full of rare rabbit in the shrubs.
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf, and I do not profit from this. I just do this to amuse myself.
Pairing: Holo-Lister/Kochanski
Warnings:Gore
This comes after the following:
Function
Static
Love
Release
Reunited
Byway
Weaknesses
Trepidation
Awakening
Officers
The List
Aground
Survival
Kochanski wandered through the edge of the forest, her oversized shirt tied up in the front to create a makeshift bowl to collect the scattering of wild raspberries she’d discovered. She waded through a dense fog, smelling the crisp air, feeling the twigs snap under her boots. She’d once gathered berries in cyber school, and the atmosphere brought back fond memories of making Linzer tarts with her simulated friends. For the first time in weeks, she wasn’t focusing on their predicament, and as a result, she was happy.
“Krissie.”
“I’m over here, Dave.” She called. She reached for another cluster of ripe berries; they easily came loose in her hand. She deposited them in her shirt, and licked the sticky red juice from her palm, which stained her skin faintly. She shivered in the cold breeze and eyed the fog warily, debating how much farther she was willing to walk in case she should lose her way.
“Krissie, I’ve been lookin’ everywhere for you.” Lister’s voice was soft with worry, and carried with it a shade of sadness. She turned to face him, and stumbled backwards in shock. His hair was shorn; his clothes were clean, and there, gleaming on his brow, the all too familiar H, the lack of which she had only recently acclimated herself. A tremor of nervousness gripped her, and she reached out timidly, to feel his outstretched hand. It was warm and solid, and pulsated with a faint, familiar energy.
She yelped, and threw herself at him, berries scattering at her feet. Her heart thundered inside of her chest, and she was laughing, and crying, and screaming all at once.
“Shh.” He said, holding her at arm’s length, giving her a sweet but solemn look.
“You must compose yourself, Ma’am.”
Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Kryten’s gold chest plate through the fog. She opened her mouth, and closed it, baffled by what was happening. “Kryten…” she began. “Dave… I mean… “
“You simply must be still and quiet, Ma’am.” Kryten said, gently. “It’s most disrespectful to make a scene when people are in mourning.”
“Mourning?” She asked, both puzzled and worried. “Mourning for whom?”
The Cat took her arm and led her through the grassy field. His suit was black velvet, and he wore a band of violet satin around his bicep. A lily drooped from his lapel, and his eyes were dark and sad.
“You’re serious, aren’t you.” She said, her eyes flicking to and from her crewmates. “You aren’t kidding. Someone’s died?”
“Of course.” Kryten said. “You don’t think that we’d joke about this, do you? How tacky!” Kryten shook his head in disapproval; and tutted to himself as he extracted a brush from his casing and smoothed down her windblown hair. “Now don’t make a fuss!”
The ground was oddly mushy under her feet, the clumps of grass uneven and spongy. The Cat stopped suddenly, and bowed his head. Lister placed his hand on her shoulder, and sighed. “We’ve got a lot to thank her for, don’t we.” He murmured.
She pushed his hand off, and glared. “Stop fooling around.” She growled. “This joke isn’t funny anymore. Tell me what’s going on. Tell me right now. Whose funeral are we supposedly attending?”
Lister looked at her, and then through her. “The mother of the human race.” He said, quietly. “I’m sorry, Krissie. I really am.” Then he shoved her chest, and she skidded backwards, loosing her footing on the edge of earth behind her. Her fingers scrambled to catch the few jagged rocks along the steep soil, but she fell, connecting with something cold and soft, softer, yet firmer than the grass above her. In the end, she couldn’t help but look, and a scream escaped her as she looked into lifeless eyes identical to her own.
The next time she opened her eyes, the spongy land was still under her. The fog was gone, and in place of clammy flesh and humid air, there was the smell of wood burning, as the campfire burned through its last embers. Standing up quickly, she hopped over the slumbering bodies of her crewmates, and vomited a stomach full of rare rabbit in the shrubs.