Title: Failure - Chapter 3

Author: Still me, StarQuality

Disclaimer: Let's just put it this way, I can't even afford a CD.

Summary: During his recovery period, Rimmer learns some things that he wanted to hear.

A/N: And the third. This will probably be the last. For now, anyway. Up to you guys, but I don't expect I'll write another chapter. Going to start it now, instead of rambling in the A/N like always. Blocks of text in italics are sort of flashbacks.

"He said.. WHAT!?"

"He said I had to take care of ya. So, let me fluff your pillow."

"Oh don't be..." Rimmer stopped himself. Surely it wouldn't be TOO bad having the object of your desire looking after you?

Lister slumped in the chair. He had just run down to the medi-bay to get Rimmer some sleeping tablets. He had taken a few minutes to finally go, but he was asleep. Lister decided it was time for him to go to bed too, so he climbed in next to Rimmer and wrapped his arms around him. It had been an interesting night.

First, they had arrived back at their quarters. Rimmer was shocked, there was a big bunch of flowers sitting on the table.

"Aren't you gonna open the card then?" asked Lister, grinning innocently at Rimmer,

"Card? Oooh, Listy, first time I've ever got flowers..." Rimmer gingerly opened the card that was hidden inside the various flowers, "'Dear Rimmer. Get better soon, don't do that again, or I'll get the guitar out. Lister.'"

"First time I've ever sent them." Lister admitted sheepishly. "Hope you're not allergic or anything."

"No Listy, they're lovely, thanks."

"No problem."

Then, Lister had looked at the floor, where there was a small pool of blood that he'd missed when he'd try to get rid of all evidence of Rimmer's suicide attempt. He quickly covered it up with his foot. Squelch.

"What was that noise?" Rimmer asked, looking at his new found best pal, who looked around, trying to act innocent. "Hmm, funny. Oh well." He moved over to the bed, and sat down with a soft moan, his arm still stung, and every piercing pain reminded him that if it hadn't have been for David Lister, he would have been dead, or worse, a hologram. "David?"

"Yes.. Err.. Arnold?"

"Was this... were I was?" he pointed to the floor, where there was another blood stain.

'Damn.' Lister thought to himself. "Yeah. I'd only come back for me rollies, and I thought you'd fainted or... just fallen over. But when I didn't get a response after calling you a smegger, I started to get worried."

Rimmer and Lister shared a laugh. Their first, in fact.

"Worried? You were.. worried about... me?"

"Yeah, why shouldn't I've been?"

"No, it's just... No-one's ever been worried ABOUT me before... I mean, not counting Dad worrying about me not getting into the Space Corps..." Lister wasn't sure whether that was a joke or not, so he just continued smiling.

"Really?"

"It's true. Who'd care for old Bonehead, eh?" Rimmer gave a shallow laugh,

"Me." Lister said, looking serious for a change, "I care about you. I care about you a smegging lot." He stood up and went to sit next to Rimmer, who moved up to give him more room. "Otherwise I would've left you, and then only cared about which bunk I would sleep in."

Rimmer flung his arms around Lister, who, at first, looked terrified, but then relaxed into it. He wasn't sure, but he was sure he hear Rimmer say a muffled thank you.

"Thank you." Lister heard it that time, as the broke apart. "Thank you Listy, really, thanks... No-one's ever cared about me before. Ever."

"Well, now they have." said Lister, standing up to look in the mirror. He could still see Rimmer in the reflection. "In fact... Rimmer..."

"Yes, Listy?"

"I..." Lister gulped and shut hip eyes tight, he couldn't bear to look at the man he was about to bear his soul to, "I... I don't just care about you..." he wasn't sure how to go on. He could just go and say it, or he could be a wimp and got the long way round. Lister was not a man of bravery. "See, I've always thought I was... I mean... With Kochanski and all... God I'm not good at this... Rimmer, I.. What I'm trying to say is..." Lister pinched himself, hard, trying to push himself into making sense. "The truth is, Rimmer... I lo-"

He had been cut off.

"Lister. Shut up." Lister looked hurt. His mouth opened, as if to say something, but Rimmer kissed him.

Later, as they sat and talked, Lister had finally broached the subject of his... partner's attempt at death.

"So... Darling, why did.. Why did you...?"

"Why did I slit my wrists, hunny-pie?"

"Hunny-pie?" Lister scrunched up his nose, "Yeah, why?"

"Because I'm a failure."

"You're not a failure."

"I am."

"Well even if you ARE a failure. You're MY failure."

TBC...? On your space bike.

Nah, just kidding. Think I'd spoil it if I did another? Well, we'll see. Oh god, you know it's a sad day when you start talking like your mother. Hunny-Pie is actually what I call my boyfriend. Isn't that a nice random fact for you. (Not a question.)

Sorry if it's a bit confusing, but it's 2am, and I have one mother of a toothache. Dentist on Wednesday.