A/N: Please forgive any crapness in this chapter. Having a really horrible day and a migraine I can't get rid of x

~xXx~

Chapter 42

Something strange had happened to Simon. As he sat on the ridge at the edge of the roof with his legs dangling over the side, Robin sitting beside him, he realised he was no longer afraid of heights. When had that happened? Was it threatening to jump that had killed the fear? Or had it happened much sooner? Maybe the last time he'd been up on that roof and almost been thrown over the side had cured him of his phobia. He still had the scars to remind him of that.

"That was a dirty bloody trick, you know," He told Robin with a scowl.

Robin stared down at the car park, kicking his legs slightly like a kid on a swing.

"What?" he asked.

"Saying you were going to jump," Simon told him, "actually, you did more than say it."

"I'm sorry," Robin gave a tiny, sheepish smile, "you wouldn't listen. I had to show you what you were doing."

"You did that." Simon looked down. He thought in silence for a few moments. "What would you have done if I hadn't pushed you away from the edge?"

"Probably gone over," Robin said almost as a question, not quite sure. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, I would. I would have gone over. I had too much speed up to stop myself.

"You could have killed yourself to prove a point," Simon wasn't sure whether he was angry or touched about that.

"I trusted you," Robin turned to him, "I knew you wouldn't let me do it."

Simon closed his eyes.

"Shit," he breathed. How much faith must he have had in Simon to save his life? He wasn't sure even he had realised Robin trusted him that deeply, not even when they were together. He looked at him. "And you didn't let me do it, either."

"I just couldn't take such a physical approach," Robin commented rubbing his sore ribs, "you were too far away. I'd have knocked you over the side instead."

Simon gave a weak smile. He stared out into the sky.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Robin reached out and laid his hand over Simon's

"I don't want you to be sorry, I want you to get better," he told him quietly.

"I'm not sick," Simon looked down.

"No," Robin sighed, "but you're not functioning well." He paused. "You need help, Simon."

Simon watched the trees in the distance blowing in the steady wind.

"You mean a shrink?" he asked. "My last visit to a therapist wasn't a raving success," he reminded Robin.

"That was different," Robin said gently, "no one's feeding back reports to Keats now."

"We hope," Simon sighed.

Robin brushed his hair out of his eye.

"We'll find someone you're really comfortable with. Someone you can talk to," he promised, "I'll help you. We'll keep looking until we find the right one. I think Alex knows someone. We'll see if we can get her number."

"I'm not comfortable with the idea of this," Simon said awkwardly.

"There's no shame in it," Robin promised him, "you've been through so much, Si. You just need some help to come to terms with how much your life has changed."

"And how do I explain the 'and then I died' parts to the therapist, hmm?" Simon asked. He sighed as he shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe."

They turned to one another at last and Robin saw the deep sadness in Simon's eyes.

"You need to begin moving forward," he said quietly, "you've been stuck in a rut since you arrived here and things have been getting worse and worse." His brow creased as he whispered, "I know I added to that. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Simon."

Simon shook his head

"You only did what I told you to do, he admitted, "And whatever it may seem like to you I really did want you to be happy." He gave a troubled sigh. "And Kim, too. Everything you said is true, Rob. She was my best friend here. I've missed her so much since she left." He looked at Robin, remembering the times they'd shared. "she was never a very happy person. She, uh," he rubbed his forehead as he recalled Kim's days in 1995, "She always seemed so troubled. A lot of that was to do with being here. Struggling to adjust. And of course all the stuff with Keats, but…" he looked down. "There was more to it than that. There was something very sad about her soul."

Robin nodded slowly.

She had a lot of problems when she went home too," he said quietly, "for such a long time. It's not an exaggeration, Simon, she really couldn't feel anything. Not for years. She went into a loveless marriage because she couldn't feel enough to know the difference." He looked terribly sad as he recalled, "stuff came out during Evan's trial. We were both called as witnesses. It turns out she spent years on anti-depressants, tranquilisers… her family threatened to have her sectioned at one point because she was so troubled when she left this place."

"The only time I ever saw her happy was with Shaz," Simon told him and saw Robin bristle little. "Well," he said quietly, "I saw her happy one other time…" he looked down, the truth so hard to bear, "I once had a vision of the two of you together." He noticed that Robin looked away uncomfortably, "I'd never seen her look so alive." He looked at him seriously. "Nor you."

Robin glanced back. He bit down on his lip, almost not daring to believe that he'd heard right.

"I've tried to make her happy," he whispered.

"You didn't need to try," Simon admitted, "you just did." He breathed in as deeply as he ever had and let his breath out slowly. "She was like my little sister, Rob. I wanted to protect her. Just wanted the best for her." He hesitated. "And I really wanted her to go home and meet someone who made her happy. I can't think of anyone I'd rather her fall in love with than someone like you."

Robin looked at him in surprise.

"Really?" he asked incredulously.

Simon hesitated.

"No," he whispered, "not with someone like you. With you."

Robin hadn't expected that. He hadn't expected anything of the sort.

"You –" he wanted to ask Simon if he meant it but there was a look of sincerity on his face that Robin didn't dare question. "Thank you," he said quietly, "that means a lot. It means more than you'll know."

Simon nodded to himself as he stared down into the car park.

"You made each other happy," It was half a statement and half a question.

Robin nodded. He wasn't sure whether carryon on the conversation was a good idea or not. But Simon seemed more stable than he'd seen him since the moment he arrived.

"Yeah," he said quietly, "we really did."

Simon kicked his heel against the hard concrete of the ledge they sat upon. He looked down despondently as he said,

"I'm so envious of you, Rob. I don't mean I'm jealous about Kim. Although," he finally admitted out loud, "I am. I mean, of how you pulled your life together."

"Almost didn't," Robin said quietly. He wondered if he was a hypocrite, stopping Simon from taking his life when he'd come so close to doing the same thing.

"But you did," Simon reminded him, "Look what happened after I died. You got yourself a promotion, met someone, got engaged, almost had a family."

"You forgot the part where I had to harbour a missing person and time-travelling loon." He saw Simon look at him in confusion. "Alex," he explained.

Simon smiled a little.

"Maybe that's where I'm going wrong," he said, "I need to start helping people who have run away from Evan."

Robin looked at him with a hint of sadness.

"Si, there was no magic answer," he said quietly, "if you expect me to give you the magic word to help you move on… It's not something you can force, it just happens. But there's a difference between waiting for it to happen and stopping yourself from moving forward."

"You think that's what I've been doing?" Simon asked quietly. He already knew the answer before Robin nodded. He didn't want to move on, he just wanted to be back with Robin and for things to go back to how they used to be. "So where do I go from here?" he whispered.

"You've got to start living your life for yourself again, Simon," Robin urged him, "you have to make yourself happy now."

"I'm not sure I remember how," Simon said quietly.

Robin thought for a moment.

"You say you're not happy with your work," he began.

Simon looked down.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been complaining," he said quietly, knowing how frustrated Robin was with the poorly assembled canine division.

Robin just shook his head.

"If you're not happy, do something about it. Talk to Gene. Tell him you need things to change. Tell him the department isn't simulating you enough."

"No, it's those arseholes sticking their bits and pieces into family PCs who were getting stimulated," Simon mumbled.

"Maybe Gene can do something," Robin told him, "perhaps there's another department that would suit you better. Maybe there's another post you'd be better suited at. Or perhaps the description of the hi-tech crimes department needs to change to involve crimes where you don't have to deal with electrical appliances committing the seven deadly sins."

"Maybe," Simon didn't sound terribly sure about that.

"Or," Robin continued, "find ways to start enjoying the work you are doing more. Don't just sit there waiting for the next report of killer toasters. Why don't you take matters into your own hands. Begin some initiatives. Toaster amnesty. Appliance/Human sex awareness. That sort of thing." He paused as he watched Simon nod, thinking about it. "But," he continued "work's only on part of life. Don't get up swallowed up whole by it."

"What do you mean?" Simon asked.

Robin stared at him, his expression a mix between sympathy and sadness.

"I want you to be happy, Simon," Robin told him, "really happy, I want you to meet someone." he saw Simon look away. "I want you to fall in love. To make you smile again."

Simon glanced at him.

"I'd never meet anyone who makes me feel the way that you did," he said.

"That's the mindset you need to get out of," Robin told him.

"Where am I ever going to meet someone anyway?" Simon sighed.

"You'll meet someone."

"Where?"

Robin hesitated.

"What about that club Shaz goes to?" he still couldn't quite say her name without scowling, "you've been looking for a new place to go since Bask closed. I'm sure you'd meet someone there."

"Not really my type that go there though, are they?" Simon asked, "can't see me fitting in with my work tie and jumper."

"Borrow something out my fucking wardrobe then!" Robin began to get frustrated, "you were the one who pointed out it looked like it belonged to some wannabe boy-band reject."

That finally raised a tiny smile.

"Don't think it would fit," he said quietly.

"So go and buy your own!"

Simon sighed.

"I'm not sure it's really my kind of place."

"I'd never have thought a karaoke bar was you kind of place either," Robin pointed out.

Simon gave a distant smile. He missed Bask.

"I'm still not sure," he sighed, "besides, can you really see me going out 'on the pull'?"

"You'll meet someone, Simon," Robin promised him, "it doesn't have to be at a club. "What about Jake?"

"What about him?"

"He was asking those questions about us," Robin reminded him, "I thought I caught him staring the other day."

Simon shook his head.

"I'm not just going to go out with someone for the sake of it," he said quietly, "I don't really know him that well. I don't even know if he's interested in men, women or giraffes."

"Probably not the latter," said Robin, "although he is fairly tall..." He saw Simon finally give a little smile and that made Robin smile back.

"And anyway," Simon began, "I'm not sure relationships are a very good idea."

"Oh, don't give me that bollocks, like you don't believe in love suddenly."

"I mean here," said Simon, "this place. I don't think it's very easy to have a relationship."

Robin frowned.

"Haven't Alex and Gene been together for like, ten years?" he asked.

"Eleven," Simon corrected, "and that's what I mean… they work because they're on an even footing, they know the score. How could I start a relationship with someone who doesn't know what the world is like? Mister Universe Nineteen Ninety Seven could sign up tomorrow and we could go out and gave the best date of our lives and then at some point I'm going to get this horrible vision slamming into my head of him with a knife sticking out his stomach or a dishwasher falling on his head. How could I start a relationship with someone I knew was dead and have to hide it from them?"

"What about the people who are just… here?" Robin asked, "wasn't that what happened with Kim and Shaz? She was just here already?"

Simon shrugged a little.

"Maybe," he said quietly, "but it's still a big secret to keep."

Robin nodded slowly.

"I suppose so, he said, "sorry, Si."

"If I met someone," Simon began, "it would either have to be someone really special that I would have to hide all the stuff about this place from, or it would have to be someone who knew. Someone on the same level as us." He looked down, "and you're not interested." He let out his breath in a sigh. "Which would only leave Keats, to be honest."

"Don't even mention that name," Robin's skin started to crawl. He found himself eying Simon worriedly. He had meant that as a joke, hadn't he?

"And anyway, this is all academic because no one's going to want to be with me anyway." Simon drew his legs back onto the ledge and turned around so they were dangling down on the other side, the safe side. The roof.

"What are you talking about?" frowned Robin.

"Look at me," Simon held out his arms, "look at the state of me. Being up here…" he closed his eyes and trailed off for a moment, "being up here reminds me of -" he trailed off. He didn't want o mention Keats for a second time. He'd seen Robin's reaction before. Instead he slowly pulled his shirt out of his trousers and lifted it up high enough for Robin to see a proper glimpse of the scars Simon had been left with from the tussle. He drew in a sharp intake of breath and turned his head away, flinching at the sight. "You see? Even you won't look at me," Simon cried in horror.

"It's not that," Robin breathed deeply to calm himself down, "it's…" he flinched again. "Come on, Si. You know what he did to me. I've got them all over the bloody same place as you. Except mine are deeper; thinner. More precise. Bloody knife." He closed his eyes. "And I felt just as low as you. Until Kim helped me, tattooed all over or around them. Now that's all I see."

Simon looked at him

"What is with the tattoos, Rob?" he asked, still unable to get his head around it, "you'd never had any interest in them before."

"I've learned never to say never since you died," Robin said quietly, "life's too short."

"What the hell made you want to get one?" Simon asked, "was it just because of Kim or…"

"Partly because of Kim but not in the way you think, "Robin told him. He closed his eyes as he recalled a different roof, a different time. "We were trying to help Alex get home. Me, Kim, Kelly. It all ended up in a big fucking showbiz showdown on the roof of Keats's flat."

"The falcon building?" Simon whispered.

Robin nodded.

"Layton… well, he had a tattoo. Kim caught a glimpse of it. He was all crazy, I don't know if he'd taken something or… needed to take soothing… she started talking to him about tattoos, as dumb as it sounds. Then she pushed back her sleeve and showed the one she had on her arm. The meeting of two words, it meant." He sighed, "and the fact that she survived. I was… inspired, I suppose. Until then I always thought tattoos were some dumb fashion thing. That's when I realised. It's about more than that. Strength. Your story. Who you are on the inside." He drew up his knees to his chest and scooted around so that he was facing the same way as Simon. "I'd been on a very long, hard journey by that point. After Alex went home, me and Kim… we'd bonded through the crazy situation we'd been through. I asked her some things. I suppose I must have sounded like a twat. I even asked the classic." He saw Simon frown. "'Does it hurt?'" he explained.

Simon gave him a thin smile.

"And did it?"

Robin bit his lip.

"It wasn't like normal pain," he said quietly. That was the only way he could describe it.

"It can't have been that bad since you're covered in them now," Simon pointed out,

"I only have four," said Robin.

"Yeah, and one of those is practically your entire stomach and rib cage," Simon pointed out.

Robin looked down with a tiny smile on his face.

"Like I said… she did that for me," he whispered, "to stop me from hating myself. My scars."

"And the," Simon quoted himself, "stupid eyebrow thing?"

Robin bit his lip and pretended he wasn't smiling at the memory.

"Well, that was just a… a very weird night," he said, his voice almost shaking, "Kim had just finished all the tattooing on my chest. Then she let me tattoo her."

"She did what?" for some reason that was the single thing that shocked Simon the most.

"I don't think I did it very well," Robin cringed, "she was in less pain than that when she cracked her ribs."

"W-what did you tattoo on her?" Simon couldn't wrap his head around it. "Oh, not the Red Dwarf logo, she'd have killed you."

"No," frowned Robin, annoyed with Simon for sullying a good story, "I tattooed nineteen ninety five upon her." he shook his head. "It was weird and intense and I just … Kim had all these piercings and it was such an important part of who she was… I wanted to know what it was like."

"Do you regret it?" Simon asked.

Robin shook his head.

"I regret stopping at one," he said, blushing slightly, "I kind of wish I'd got my lip done too." He saw Simon staring in horror, waiting for him to pretend it was a joke but it wasn't. "But I'd never let anyone but Kim do it," he said quietly, "fuck's sake, knowing my luck Geoff would be training as a piercer and I'd be his first victim." He saw Simon staring at him. "You're going to ask me about the eyeliner next, aren't you?"

Simon closed his eyes and gave a wry smile.

"I've asked enough questions," he said.

"Well just in case," Robin gave a shrug, "it was something I did one time… we actually pretended I was borrowing Kim's make-up to cover up for the fact that wed been kissing when Alex noticed my lips were somewhat… redder than usual." He shrugged, "and I liked it."

"Kim was wearing lipstick?" Simon shook his head in shock. "I really did have you two pegged all wrong. She only does that when she's really in love."

Robin smiled distantly.

"I know you wish I was still the same person that left here seventeen months ago," Robin told him, "but I can't be. I've been through to many things that changed me. "

"So did I," Simon said quietly, "but not in positive ways,."

"Si, you just need to let go," Robin said quietly, "and live your own life again. "

Simon hung his head and stared at his shadow on the ground.

"We became poles apart, didn't we?" he said quietly, "While you were falling in love I was falling flat on my face outside of Bask, pissed out of my head. While you were busy settling into your promotion, the highlight of my new job was getting a lockable filing cabinet. While you were covering your body in works of art, I was covering mine with love-handles."

"Oh stop. Simon, you're not getting fat. Ignore Gene, he just wants to get a rise out of you."

Simon knew it was more than just a Gene thing. All his trousers had been getting tighter and a small paunch protruded through his shirts these days. He shook his head, disgusted with how he had changed.

"You were the one who accused me of cracking your ribs," Simon pointed out.

"Don't remind me," Robin flinched, "I'm seriously thinking about going to hospital."

Simon spread his arms.

"Ta-daa," he said in a singsong voice.

A genuine moment of relaxed humour passed between them. Robin felt like an idiot for forgetting where they actually were and tried to change the subject.

"if you're that bothered then why don't you try going to the gym with me?" he suggested.

"Can you rally see me joining a gym?" Simon raised an eyebrow.

"Could you have seen me joining one?" Robin countered.

Simon gave a tiny smile.

"Nope," he admitted, "but then, that's you all over, isn't it?" he paused. "doing the unexpected." He paused. "And looking good on it, too."

Robin shuffled uncomfortably, unsure whether Simon was trying it on again. He didn't seem to be this time. Robin still didn't know how to take the compliment though.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

There was a blundering cashing sound that scared the living daylights out of both of them and they scrambled to their feet in time to see Gene lumbering awkwardly out of the roof door, one leg working considerably better than the other, being held up by both sticks and Alex.

"Gene?"

Simon wasn't entirely sure he was really seeing what e appeared to be; a staggering Gene who was weaving worse than he usually would after ten pints and a whiskey chaser, still in his hospital smock, oozing humiliation from every pore. He certainly didn't look best pleased.

"Shoebury, I am going to kick seven shades of shit out of you for this."

Simon looked at him in alarm.

"What?

"Just spent ten minutes staring out the window watching for a Shoebury splat zone!" Gene said furiously.

Simon looked down at his feet. Now that a little time had passed since Robin's shock tactics had given him the hardest kick to the backside he'd ever received in his life he felt utterly horrified at what he'd been about to do. While the desperate depression and the reasons behind his crazed reactions were still there he now felt a crushing sense of guilt for the mess –figurative rather than literal – that he would have left behind.

"Gene, I'm sorry," he said.

"So you bloody should be," Gene yelled, "where would we have got a coffin that flat? Would have had to get one specially made. And you'd have put me off pizza for life." His expression grew very dark as he looked Simon right in the eye. "And," he said seriously "if you'd… if we'd…"

Simon nodded slowly. He didn't need Gene to try to fish that sentence.

"I know," he said, "I'm sorry. Shit, sorry is so meaningless, but I really am…"

"You're walking –" Robin was the first to make the obvious observation. Simon had been so overwhelmed by everything that he hadn't even realised at first.

"Shit, you are," he cried.

"Some twat with a toaster-phobia was threatening to chuck himself off the roof," cried Gene, "it wasn't really helping with me bedrest."

"You can really walk?" Simon stared in shock, "and you climbed all those stairs? For me?"

"Bloody hundreds of them," Gene told him, but Alex was there with a sigh and a shake of the head.

"No; there was a wheelchair and a lift and then one very small flight of stairs," she said with a scowl, "which I carried him up." She paused, "somehow."

"But you're standing now?" Simon stared at him, "I mean, you took a step, I saw."

Gene nodded soberly.

"Think me legs might be starting to listen to me for once."

"Thank god," Simon closed his eyes for a moment. While Gene clearly had a very long way to go and a promising start didn't necessarily mean he would recover much more of his scope of movement it was a start and more than they'd had an hour before. Gene's health was one of the things that had really brought Simon to his knees.

He looked back over the side of the roof, thinking once again how strange it was to no longer feel that swelling fear that usually came with heights. In fact, he started to realise, heights were not the only thing that he was feeling less afraid of.

He realised that a big part of his reluctance to let go and move on was his fear of the future; a future without Robin by his side. He was starting to see now that, although they may not have been a couple any longer, he was never going to lose him as a friend. He knew he'd hit his lowest low and it was going to take a very long time to rebuild his life, but he no longer felt as afraid of doing so.

He would get there. Gene's world really was about starting afresh and taking a chance on a new life. Thanks to Robin, Simon still had all of that ahead of him.