Lar-ton's A/N: With the new statistics feature we have noticed something rather alarming. Now for our first chapter of this story we had no less than 29 hits now give or take a few with only 3 reviews that means that 96 (unless our maths is wrong which it probably is) of you lurkers are not reviewing! This is actually our biggest hit for a first chapter but one of the fewest reviews, now i'm not gonna get mad grits teeth but don't you guys like the story? Please we love feedback and are review whores, so give us some incentive- Pweety Pwease : ) ...I'll give you all cookies.

Love, Lar-ton

XXX

A Note from Sunrise: I ditto the cookie thing!

Rimmer had long since abandoned the comfort of his bunk, preferring to pace the room, feeling the guilt consume his body.

He felt it was what he deserved.

Arnold J Rimmer was not an evil man, but he was a heartbreaker. And that was perhaps worse that being evil.

All night long, Rimmer couldn't get the look on Lister's face out of his head. He looked so heartbroken, like everything he'd ever known and loved had been shattered into a thousand pieces.

Rimmer shuddered as his own words haunted him:" We're finished Lister, and that's that!"

He crossed his arms and dug his nails deep into his skin. He bit his lip as his nails pierced the tender flesh but he didn't cry out.

He needed to feel pain.

As Rimmer had walked away from Lister the previous morning he silently prayed that Lister would run after him, kick him. Punch him. Beat him roughly over the head with his precious guitar.

Anything to take away the guilt.

But he hadn't.

Instead Lister remained in the stock cupboard, and just when Rimmer was going to check on him and make sure he hadn't strangled himself with a cleaning nozzle, he ran out. "Rimmer, please. Tell me you didn't mean it…tell me what you said back there was complete and utter bollocks!"

Perhaps if Lister had delivered this line venimously and full of hatred, Rimmer could stop hating himself and justify their split with the reasoning that Lister was clingy, moody and demanding.

Trouble was, Lister was none of those things, and the words from his mouth weren't said with an ounce with hatred but merely tumbled out in a choked sentence, the words hardly seeming to fit together properly.

It was the voice of a broken man.

Rimmer's heart felt strangely caged as he glanced at Lister's frame, wrought with tears, shaking uncontrollably and generally looking like he was having a bad dream and was desperately trying to wake up.

All Rimmer wanted to do was hug him, apologize, kiss him, and hold him.

Hold him like there was no tomorrow…

But Rimmer couldn't do it. He was too proud. His father had called him a pansy all his childhood and he had proved himright by being with Lister.

He pretended it didn't bother him, but every moment spent with Lister, pre or post coital, reminded him of his own failure and what his Father deemed to be failure.

Failure of course included being a gibbering wreck, who never lived up to expectations, slept with boxing gloves on, had a nervous disposition and worst of all was gay.

Gay not being in the happy sense of the word either.

Rimmer had always remembered as a child watching an old movie, in which a woman had proclaimed her wedding day to be a "happy and gay affair."

Rimmer had taken this as the traditional meaning of "happy" or "joyful" and pleasantly bounded to his father and attempted to give him a hug. His father instead telling the small boy not to bother him and shrugging him off, right until Rimmer pronounced

"But Dad I'm so gay. I want to share my gayness with everybody!"

That simple remark had earned Rimmer a beating, which his father later said was for being 'insolent'. This had made it difficult for Rimmer to express any feelings apart from negative ones.

It was easy to say he loved Lister though, because Lister brought out the good side of him.

The side of him that was actually likeable.

Rimmer was pretty sure that side of him had gone now, because Lister wasn't there to help it flourish.

There were numerous reasons why Rimmer had broke up with Lister. A main one being that he was a commitmphobe, scared of getting in too deep.

He was also worried about the damaging effect Lister was having on his career.

Numerous times Lister had talked him out of going to work. He'd wrap his arms around Rimmer's waist and tug him back onto the bed, "Come on" he 'd whisper, looking at Rimmer with his big brown eyes "no one will miss us…" Rimmer was powerless to resist and the pair would stay in bed, wrapped in each other's arms.

He quickly closed the floodgates to all those type of memories.

As far as he was concerned…they were in the past, they'd been and gone and no amount of weeping or wailing could bring those times back.

It was then he felt something trickle down his arm. He moved his hands, his fingertips were covered in drops blood. He looked at his arm, fresh blood ooze out of the pierced skin.

Rimmer held his fingers up to his face and grimaced slightly, before rubbing his fingers together, watching with morbid fascination as the sticky crimson liquid covered his pale skin.

"Arnie, come back to bed..." cooed the brunette tugging the thin, flimsy bed sheets around her naked torso, she smiled at him "we don't necessarily have to sleep..."

Rimmer turned round and forced a smile onto his face "just coming" he said, washing his hands in the sink. He sighed to himself as the last droplets of his blood got washed down the drain.

He raised his eyes so they met with his reflections. For a second or two, they both stared at each other.

Rimmer gripped the side of the sink with both hands, and muttered firmly under his breath "I'm not gay."

He said it...he just didn't believe it.

"Arnie?" came an expectant voice.

Rimmer groaned inwardly and shuffled over to the third reason why he dumped Lister: Jessica, Rimmer's bit on the side.