After a few minutes of watching his bunkmate squeeze the fallen heroine's hand and sulk, Lister sat down on the floor next to them. He took off his jacket and then rolled it up. "You still with us, Rory?" he asked.
"Oui, Ami," she replied in a barely audible tone. "Fo' now, at least."
"You mean you ain't dead, yet?" the Cat asked dismally. "I was hoping I could take your boots and keep 'em for my own."
Dave rolled his eyes back and shook his head at his friend's comment. Trying to ignore it he asked, "Do you want to use this to prop your head," while offering his jacket to the mortally-wounded Cajun.
Aurora got a whiff of the smell coming from it and stifled the urge to cough. "No t'anks," she politely declined.
"You sure?"
The redhead nodded.
Shrugging, Lister put it back on. "Suit yourself, then," he said offhandedly.
After a painstaking period of silence Arnold looked into his grandmother's eyes and asked, "Are you scared?" He remembered how frightened he was when his life ended, and he saw how little fear was revealed by his Cajun ancestor. He had to know if this was a ruse.
"Of course I am scared, Cher," Rory admitted. "It's foolishment not t'be."
"How can you be so calm, then?" Lister asked out of curiosity.
"De only thang I… can do is accept it," Aurora answer while beginning to sound short-of-breath. "Dey ain't… not'in' else I can do."
"Do you have any regrets, Grand-mère?" Rimmer asked. "That you have to die now, I mean."
Rory nodded. "Wid seeing… you… I do," she admitted. "I now know dat… de consequences… of my death… span over… deux generations. It is… more dan a… great in… injustice dat… I have to… I have to go. If I… were alive in… in de time dat… dat Aaron was…" she stopped and winced at the pain as it finally became noticeable and then continued. "…dat Aaron was… smacking you… around… I would have… the… the mind to… to kick his… to kick his ass. You should… let a.. chil'… be… a chil'."
Rimmer nodded his understanding of what he heard as an alarming concern overwhelmed him. His grandmother was growing deadly-white and clammier. The hardest thing about this was that there was nothing to be done to save her and he knew it.
Rory had grown quiet. Having noticed, Lister called for her attention. "Still with us?" he asked in an alarmed tone.
The Cajun redhead slowly managed a nod. After taking in some air she whispered, "I see it," and then grew totally silent. A second later, Rimmer noticed that she wasn't squeezing his hand anymore.
"Grand-mère?" he hailed with alarm.
She didn't respond. Her pain was finally over.
Rimmer listened to see if (by some odd chance) his grandmother was still breathing.
Not a sound came from her lungs.
Tears streamed down the hologram's face as silently released sobs overcame him. Although Lister had nothing but dislike for him, his first response was to wrap his arms around his bunkmate and try to console him.
"Rimmer, I'm sorry, man," he said out of sincerity. That was all that he could say without fear of breaking down and crying, himself. He may not have got off on the right foot with her, but he knew that, had she lived, they would have been great allies.