Pairing: Dave Lister/Arnold Rimmer and some Kryten
For: boho
Rated: PG, if even that
Notes: The title is from a Josh Ritter song. This is my first fic exchange and I really enjoyed it, but I know there is room for improvement.
You’ve Got the Moon
“Sir?”
“Yeah Kryten?”
“Just wanted to let you know, Mr. Lister, sir, that we are back on course. Starbug has locked on to Red Dwarf’s vapor trail and… ah…sir?”
“Hm?”
“Nothing, sir. Never mind. Your lunch is ready, sir. Mr. Cat has gone to change his outfit. I suggest I take over the controls until he comes back, as he could be gone for quite some time.”
“Sure Kryt.”
“Very good sir.”
Lister stood up from the pilot’s chair and turned toward the back of the cockpit. For a millisecond, his gaze passed over the navigation console and empty seat behind it. As he passed through the doorway into the mid-section, Lister was struck by the impossible sensation that he had a poppadom shard stuck in his throat. He swallowed hard and thumped his fist into his chest. The feeling diminished but did not disappear entirely.
He sat at the mess table, reached for the can of lager and pulled its tab with a crisp, satisfying sound that rose, briefly, over the hum of the ventilation system. He took two long swallows. Lister pulled back the cover of the aluminium tray, releasing a small cloud of curry-infused steam. He picked up his fork and began poking randomly at pieces of chicken vindaloo. Each piece made it to his lips, his mouth opened and closed, and he chewed then swallowed.
This continued for a time until he bit down hard on the empty fork.
“Ah! Me teeth!”
“Everything all right sir?”
Lister called over his shoulder to Kryten, “Yeah. I was just tryin’ to eat me fork.” He tentatively ran his tongue over his front teeth. None appeared to be chipped.
“Sir? Surely if you were still hungry I could have provided a more palatable option,” came Kryten’s response.
“Kryten, I’m not hungry, I just wasn’t payin’ attention,” Lister replied. “I wasn’t payin’ attention,” he repeated to himself quietly.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Lister flipped over onto his back and heaved a sigh. Throwing back the duvet, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bunk. After a fruitless hour it was time to face facts. Sleep was not going to happen. He pulled on a robe and left his quarters.
At first he wandered the ship with no purpose. He moved quietly through the sleeping quarters, past Cat’s stylishly appointed den, Rimmer’s strictly ordered, now-empty room, and the unused sleeping quarters where the previous incarnation of Ace Rimmer had succumbed to his injuries just days ago.
Lister stared into this last room for a bit, pondering secrets. Then he turned and made his way onward until he found himself stopping once more outside the AR suite. Touching his fingers to the barrel of the bazookoid that still rested on a nearby shelf, Lister smiled.
Rimmer had looked so terrified; Lister had had a moment to wonder if he had made a mistake, pushed Rimmer too far. But Rimmer surprised him. On obviously shaky legs, he fought back, defended himself against the blows the escaped AR knight rained down on him.
Okay, so Rimmer had run and been backed into a corner and Lister had not gone all out, but it needed to be real enough for Rimmer to believe. He could not know that it was Lister in disguise.
And unbelievably, Rimmer came through. The cowardly, pompous, neurotic piece of smeg, rose to the challenge and took up the mantle of Ace Rimmer.
Lister thought back to the expression on Rimmer’s face when they at last came within sight of the orbiting graveyard of former Ace Rimmers. Rimmer looked both humbled and exalted. And in that moment, Lister had felt a surge of jealousy and bitterness so strong he knew it must show on his face. He had turned away from Rimmer and made some silly remark about passing on the flame and not breaking the chain.
And now Rimmer was gone. He was Ace now, God help the Dimensions.
Lister made his way down to Starbug’s docking area, where Rimmer… Ace had said his last goodbyes.
“Seeya, Davey-boy.”
“Yeah, good luck, man.”
Lister knew that he could tell Cat and Kryten the truth any time. It would do Rimmer no harm for the secret to be known now. Why should Cat and Kryten be made to say goodbye to Rimmer, possibly mourn for him even, when he was not really dead? Well he was dead actually, had been for millions of years in fact, but not really dead-dead, actually, but living out his destiny under an assumed identity.
Knowing it was perhaps cruel to his fellow companions, Lister could not bring himself to speak the words. He jealously horded the information. To admit the truth to someone else would mean admitting that Rimmer had left them of his own volition. That there was nothing here to make him stay; no one had given him a reason to.