Awakening

Is death the last sleep? No, it is the last and final awakening. - Sir Walter Scott

The gentle humming of machinery and gears lulled Rimmer to sleep and he did not stir for several hours. Dying took a lot out of him and he hoped he wouldn't have to do it again in a hurry. His dreams went uninterrupted and he did not remember them, even moments after they played in his head. He awoke slightly groggy and wondered what to do for the rest of his death. He made do with the pointless task of rearranging his 20th century telegraph pole pictures into alphabetical order, instead of chronological. And then by geographical location.

He was aware of Kryten when he walked past the doorway and stopped to observe Rimmer and the skutters looking for London Street, Southampton's group of poles, but he did not look up.

He heard the Cat dance past looking for fish and ladies, and more preferably a fish-lady. He did not look up.

A pair of grotty trainers plodded up to him and past towards the bunks. This time Rimmer looked up from his work to watch Lister take the running leap into his bunk. He judged the gap wrongly and caught his back against the top of the opening. Lister groaned and gently patted his back with his fingers and drew his hand back with a wince. There was going to be a huge graze there.

Rimmer blew out a long and bored snort of air and shook his head at Lister. Lister said, "I'm going to sleep."

"I'll tell the skutters not to turn the pages too loudly," he scoffed.

Lister didn't care and concentrated on falling asleep. It was early for him - 7am to be precise - but he felt inexplicably tired. Perhaps because he hadn't had his usual nightcap of a beer and an onion bhaji. It was while he was thinking of delicious curry house food that he drifted off to sleep. His nose buried deep inside of the bottom edge of the pillow and his head tilted down so that he could breathe noisily through his mouth. The sound echoed from the hard mattress and bounced around the bunk. Rimmer wished that holograms could have an auditory volume control.

The skutters went on strike an hour or so later. Fed up with sorting out Rimmer's files, they all ganged together without prior discussion and wheeled away. Rimmer at once protested and the last skutter out gave him the one-finger salute before speeding away. Rimmer, flabbergasted, sat back down and kicked at the files. His foot merged cleanly with them and he kicked even harder in his frustration. On a strange level he hoped that the more determined and angry he was, the more likely he'd be able to actually hit something. He eventually concluded that he was not Patrick Swayze and gave up solemnly.

"Good morning, sir!" Kryten said in an annoyingly chipper tone as he passed by.

"No, it's not a good morning. In fact it's the total and utter opposite of a good morning in that it is a very bad morning."

Kryten said nothing in reply, but entered the room and looked over at the sleeping Lister with a warm, affectionate gaze. "Has Mr Lister been asleep for very long?"

"How would I know? An hour, maybe two." Rimmer raised an eyebrow at Kryten's tense stance. He glanced guiltily from Lister to Rimmer and back again repeatedly. "What's gotten into you, you overgrown Robo-sapien?"

"Nothing at all, Mr Rimmer." Kryten paused. "Except..."

"Except what?"

"I'm just curious as to how different our timelines were. Holly said you were rather bitter and felt alienated because you couldn't touch anything."

"I felt very useless indeed, but I'm used to that. When have I ever been needed or wanted?" Rimmer said, a thick coat of disparagement running over the sentence. It suddenly occurred to him that here, with a body and as the highest ranking member he must have had it pretty sweet. If no one would do something, he could do it himself. He would have been completely self-reliant. If Lister hummed all night or began to play his guitar during his work he could have walked up to him and boxed his ears.

What could Lister do - send him to the Captain's office for punishment? Ha! It was laughable. In fact, Rimmer did laugh at this merry thought and Kryten thought him quite mad for it. "Sir? Do you need to lie down?"

"No, no."

"Well, I just thought you should know you are needed. To keep Mr Lister sane. That's why Holly brought you back."

"I thought it was her idea of a sick joke. We're miserable around each other."

"You both seemed happy here, especially after-" he clapped his hands to his mouth and shook his head in horror at what nearly tumbled out. Rimmer got up and walked over to Kryten and stood in front of him menacingly. His one advantage in confrontations (and they seldom occurred for Rimmer was normally kicking up a dust cloud before the other guy could say "Oi, you!") was his impressive height which he used to full when up against potential enemies or to impose anyone he needed information from. He stretched his neck and toes and towered over Kryten who continued to shake his head fearfully.

"Seemed happy after what?"

"I'm sorry sir, that information is strictly classified."

"Tell me or your groinal attachment and Lister's fish tank will become very acquainted."

"Alrighty then..." Kryten began. "You and Mr Lister were rather close here."

Rimmer's eyes narrowed as he said, "Define close."

"Physically close."

"Physically close? How do you mean physically close?"

Kryten clawed at his face in his desperation to avoid giving it to Rimmer straight, no pun intended. He peeked out between two fingers and mumbled, "You used to have r-r-relations. O-only when you were bored or desperate, you two used to say."

What? Rimmer couldn't imagine any situation where he would be desperate enough or bored enough to do something like that. He felt a bit ill and sank down back onto the chair. His eyes flitted wildly around the room, settling only for a moment before darting across to rest on something else. Rimmer was loath to concentrate on any detail of the room lest the moment feel less surreal.

This was a dream. This was a dream and he was going to wake up... now. Now. NOW!

His eyes burned with anguish and he tried to keep them away from the top bunk of the room. They finally won and his sight travelled up the ladder and halted at Lister's snoring head. He was turned the other way now and his dreadlocks drooped casually down the side. Rimmer's look moved down from his head and along his back and... he shuddered at himself for not stopping sooner.

"Mr Rimmer, are you alright?"

Rimmer blinked a few times before answering in a sleepwalking tone, "Fine. Just dandy. Never better, Kryters."

Kryten knew he was in a bad way. Rimmer would never under any normal circumstance refer to him with a kindly nickname. Sensing he had done a very bad thing in blabbing about Rimmer's past, Kryten backed out of the room and went to insert a bazookoid into his mouth and pull the trigger.

Rimmer lay down in his bunk and went to sleep even though it was only 9 o'clock in the morning. Sleep-world was the best place to think logically about his quandary.