Confessions of a Holographic Mind
Lister was racing through the corridors on his motorbike. It was just a regular boring day on the Red Dwarf, Cat was at the beginning of his tour-de-fish and Kryten had his big sock-mending day, which were things Lister rather avoided. And he had a different thing to solve anyway.
He knew better than anyone about Rimmer's total weirdness, idiocy, egoism and obnoxiousness. As Rimmer was moody as an old senile woman, it usually didn't last longer than a few days and he was fine again - which meant absolutely intolerable. This time, it had been over a week.
Lister tried to remember the exact moment. They were sitting in their cabin. Kryten came to notify them they were over the asteroid field and also that the Starbug Lister was repairing had just exploded. And that was it. Nothing unusual. But Rimmer had the expression on his face that wouldn't go away. Everytime Lister wanted to speak about it he told him to mind his own business. Which actually wasn't unusual, but Rimmer always gave up eventually. So Lister could laugh at him and pass the news.
On top of that, it'd been three days since he'd seen him. He didn't sleep in the cabin and most of the time, Lister knew nothing about his whereabouts.
"Hol, is smeggie still in the Holographic room?"
"Yes, David. I hope he's not planning on turning on Rimmer Two again."
"No way. They're divorced for good."
Lister stopped before the Holographic room, turning the engine off. Why on earth did Rimmer choose this exact place to stay at? There were other more suitable places like the cinema or the mortuary. Now he was really afraid Rimmer was meddling with some of the room equipment and a horrible image of a Rimmer army flashed in his head.
Holly opened the door for him and Lister looked around. The room was dim and silent.
"Are you sure he's here?" he asked silently.
"Positive," Holly replied aloud.
"Hush, Holly!" Lister whispered, creeping along the walls. "We don't wanna startle him..."
He walked around the room, noticing a man's figure sitting in the corner.
"Rimmer?"
"Go away..." Rimmer muffled through his hands as his head was hidden in his arms. Lister had a feeling the hologram was buzzing.
"Is your core malfunctioning again?"
"Go away, Lister," Rimmer repeated in the same muffled tone. Lister raised an eyebrow.
"What's wrong?" he asked. "You make it look like your pet lemming died again."
Rimmer was silent, not moving, not speaking, not doing anything. Lister stood in front of him, beginning to worry. He welcomed Rimmer's misfortunes most of the time, because it meant good fun, but this was way too strange for him to laugh at. He started thinking of what the hell could happen to him, as he recalled absolutely nothing in the last days that could cause it.
He seated himself on a panel in front of him.
"What about spending some time with a nice, friendly chat."
"Shut up, you rat," Rimmer muttered. "You're as trustworthy as a drunken, licenceless Cuban cab driver."
"If you're afraid I'll slip a word, I can swear I won't."
"Swear?" Rimmer repeated with sarcasm. "Your word has the value of a chicken's poop."
"Don't you see, I come in peace."
"Take your peace and go away," Rimmer said. "Leave me alone."
"You've been alone for more than a week. And looking at you, I don't see it'd help you."
"Why do you care? I know the only reason you're here is because you're so awfully bored and want to make fun of me."
Lister breathed in.
"That just so... Well, yes, that's true... But even I'm not such a fool to not notice something's wrong with you."
Rimmer didn't reply but stayed with his head hidden. Was there a reason he didn't look up at him?
"C'mon, Rimmer, spit it out... C'mon, c'mon... You know you can't get rid of me... So the best way is to speak... Tell me, don't be a dick... It can't be that bad, or you wanna say it's worse than your Gazpacho affair?"
"You little scoundrel!" Rimmer shouted, losing his composure and raising his head. Lister widened his eyes, falling on the ground in a painful spasm of laughter.
For some unknown reason, Rimmer had dark blue eyeshadows reaching his eyebrows, red cheeks, purple lipstick and hair full of rollers. Holly's wig paled compared to this.
"Stop it, stop it!" Rimmer screamed hysterically, his make-up stretching under the grimaces of fury, the rollers bouncing around his face. More than ever he looked like a frigid old maid.
Lister took a few more minutes, breathing deeply and feeling totally exhausted, and with belly ache from the laugh. As he put himself together, he realized Rimmer was once again sitting with his head hidden.
"That's not so bad, Madame du Barry," he said with strong French accent, still chuckling. "I mean, you're really charming, I would just fix the shadows, why not green?"
"Shut up, you stinky impregnated chimpanzee."
"Why don't you simply tell Holly to fix it?" Lister asked.
"Right..." Rimmer retorted. "Right, so that bunch of junk could tell you!"
"Oh..."
So that was the reason Holly knew nothing about it.
"How did it happen anyway?" Lister asked, trying hard to push away the giggling.
"Don't ask. Just go and share this with Cat and Kryten so we'll get it over with."
Lister gave him an unseen puzzled look. He'd never seen him so depressed before. Maybe only once, when he glued him to his bed.
"OK, so I swear I won't tell. I swear on my granny's pantaloons."
Rimmer stayed still for a long time, making Lister test his patience. The hologram looked up then and Lister covered his mouth to hide his laugh, doing his best to keep straight face.
"Holly," he said to the computer, "could you do something with it?"
"Of course, David. Do you want him blond?"
Lister caught Rimmer's considerate distress under the pink powder and shook his head.
"Nah, just make him normal."
"Not even God can do that," Holly replied.
"All right, cut it, Hol."
Holly turned Rimmer back and the make-up disappeared. It was clearer than before, though, that Rimmer went through some serious shit.
"Now tell me, what in the heaven happened," Lister said, sitting back on the panel. Rimmer looked away, obviously hesitating. It seemed like centuries before he finally spoke and Lister was taken by surprise with how utterly worn he sounded.
"Last week, when the Starbug exploded, you said you'd once almost burned your room to the ground when you smoked there as a boy."
Lister blinked.
"That's what made you so depressed? I didn't know you could get so worried about me."
"It's not you, jerk," Rimmer said, frowning. "It would be fine with me if you sent your butt to the space much earlier but..."
The hologram paused, shaking his head.
"I just... recalled a memory..."
"What memory?"
"When I was eight, my brothers and their friends took me out to have my first cigarette... Like I would want to smoke when I was eight, but I thought when I would, they'd accept me into their group. Or at the very least stop peeing into my shoes. Well... I soon found out they had other plans..."
Although Rimmer's voice sounded casual, Lister started to have an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.
"We went into a cabin in the forest. People kept saying a murderer lived there and buried his victims under the floor. Nonsense, of course. Before I could notice anything they tied me up and left me. I was there the whole night and the other day my mother found me and chewed me out for playing stupid games, giving me a week house-arrest. I couldn't tell her how it happened for my brothers would beat the heck out of me. Well, she wouldn't believe me anyway."
Rimmer put his head into his hands.
"The night was so horrible..." he muttered. "I've never been so scared in my whole life. I really thought the murderer would find me and kill me..."
Lister just stared at him, shocked. This story was far worse than he'd imagined and he didn't know what to tell him.
"Somehow I'd forgotten about it, but now it's back..."
Rimmer's voice was breaking down as he spoke.
"I swear I didn't move the whole night... And the other day, my brothers wouldn't stop laughing at me."
This story made the rack one look like a fairy-tale. Rimmer fell silent and the silence went on for a few minutes before Lister asked: "But what about the make-up thing?"
"I... wanted to erase that memory out of my brain," Rimmer said, sounding ashamed. "But somehow I managed only to put my mother's make-up on."
Lister laughed briefly to relieve the tension but it didn't seem to cheer Rimmer up much.
"At least something, ya know. But you should have left Holly to do it."
"What?" Rimmer said, giving him a sour look. "Let that corroded toaster rummage in my brain?"
Rimmer shook his head, putting a palm over his face. Even for Lister it wasn't pleasant to see him in this state.
"I couldn't even sleep the last days, Lister," he said silently. "Everytime I close my eyes I'm back in the cabin."
"Gee... that's sick," Lister said with concern. "I'm sorry, Rimmer."
"Huh... You think I would believe that? You're dying to tell the others."
"Why did you tell me, then?"
Rimmer gave him a short glare.
"I needed to tell someone... Just how stupid is that..."
Lister realized it must have been pretty hard to deal with on his own, having nobody to confide to. Rimmer was evidently sure whoever he would tell that to wouldn't keep his mouth shut about it.
"I know you won't believe me but I won't tell anyone," Lister said. No matter how Rimmer could get on his nerves sometimes, even Lister didn't wish him to feel like this and he found no joy in sharing it with anyone.
"Now don't think of it. We'll have Holly erase that memory if you wish. Why don't we go for a cup of good old holographic tea? Or scotch. Hey, I'm buying."
Rimmer snorted softly but Lister could see he looked relieved. Perhaps even gratefully a bit. They moved to the officers' lounge and Lister could watch Rimmer's mood slowly improving. He himself was glad he hadn't been so miserable anymore. After their fifth scotch, Rimmer leaned back on his chair, letting out a long sigh. He looked at his glass thoughtfully, playing with it in his fingers. Lister lit up a cigarette, watching as the smoke whirled above their heads.
"You look good in blue and purple," he remarked and Rimmer shot him a suspicious glare. But then he smirked. Lister returned the smirk. He wondered Rimmer wasn't so bad when he was depressed. Too bad it wasn't more often.
"Lister," Rimmer addressed him.
"Yep?"
"Thanks..."
Lister saw just how much of effort it cost him to say, although he sounded genuine. And he appreciated it. Despite the fact Rimmer would always be a big case of an ass, there were times like this Lister would not only tolerate him, he would find him quite OK. The five glasses of scotch helped a great deal as well.
"You're welcome," he said, breathing in the cigarette smoke.
OK, that's it. Hope you liked. I always wanted to write more of a friendship-centred fic about those two, unstained with laugh tracks. I love RD as it is, though:-). Let me know what you think, thanks and enjoy!
Note: Madame du Barry - a chief mistress of Luis XV. Not sure how Lister could possess such information but even that could happen. Accidentally, of course.
