Yes, it's another Rimmer angst. This one is in songfic form though! See, I'm branching out... kind of...

I don't own Red Dwarf or the song Full of Grace

N.B - very mild implied slash near end.

Winter here's cold, and bitter

There were, of course, no real winters in space. It was usually a fairly steady temperature, depending of course on proximity to suns. The crew of Starbug however, diligently kept to the earth calendar months, and subtly dressed accordingly: shirt in summer, jacket in winter. It was part of what kept them hopeful in their search for Red Dwarf, and subsequent return to earth – keeping to the calendar months meant that they would be ready and prepared when they stepped off the ship onto solid ground. If they ever got back, that is.

It chills us to the bone

Rimmer, being a hologram, couldn't feel the cold as such. True, he was aware of what temperature it was, and if he really concentrated he could just about feel the air around his light bee, but it didn't affect him. He could see it affecting the Cat and Lister though. The cat said it was a great excuse to wear his white fur coat out of season, and Lister would try to be all macho about it, but Cat still complained and Lister still pretended not to shiver as he lay above Rimmer in the night.

Haven't seen the sun for weeks, too long too far from home

Weeks. Back on Red Dwarf, that didn't really mean much. A week was a week. Out here it was forever. Drifting through space, not a hope in sight, trying not to go crazy.

Crazy. That was why he was brought back wasn't it? To keep Lister sane. That's the only reason he was here, he wasn't wanted, he was required. A necessity. He might as well be athletes foot powder.

Perhaps if they were closer to finding Red Dwarf things wouldn't look so bad. If they had a chance, a glimmer of hope. If they could just pick up the vapour trail again. But no. Nothing. Zip, zilch, nada. About as much chance of picking it up as one had of turning on the TV and not seeing that smug bastard Jimmy Carr.

It's just that we stayed too long, in the same old sickly skin

If he wasn't a hologram he wouldn't feel so bad. Lister and the Cat were always complaining that they were too cold, too tired, too hungry. What Rimmer wouldn't give to be able to be cold. Just to experience a basic sensation. Instead, he felt nothing. He passed right through things. He was barely here. Can't be hungry, can't touch, can't feel. Every time he went through something he felt like he was fading away, ceasing to exist a little bit more. He wasn't human, he was an echo of a person, a shadow. Breath left on a mirror. A computer simulation. He was artificial reality, and he knew it.

Pulled down by the undertow

Being dead was the new thing holding him back. It used to be his family. His parents never believed in him, his brothers got all the good looks and charm and what was he left with? Nostrils you could park an ocean liner in and unmanageable hair.

When he was aboard Red Dwarf, he began to claim that it was Lister holding him back, re-arranging his revision timetable and humming incessantly. Without quiet and organisation, he claimed, he couldn't concentrate, therefore couldn't learn, therefore couldn't pass the exam

Death was the new thing holding him back. He kept trying to pass the exam, but he'd lost his motivation. What was the point? There was no-one to impress or suck up to out here, and even if they did get home, who was going to hire a dead person?

He blamed all of this for the fact he'd never got far in the space corps. Most people thought that it had simply never occurred to him that he was a complete and utter smeg-head, selfish, cowardly and not particularly bright, and maybe that was the reason he was unsuccessful. It had. Every day he thought about it.

Never thought I could feel so low

He would usually take out his frustrations on Lister in one way or another, usually through his extensive library of snide comments. He always felt awful afterwards. Lister acted like it didn't affect him, but Rimmer knew it must. Those things affect everyone. Most of the time they don't let you see it, sometimes they don't even see it themselves, but it's there.

He knew how much it hurt because he knew how much it hurt him. Not just when he was young either, though he certainly had more than his fair share of hurt then. No, it was all through his life, from everyone around him, even himself. He felt like he was going to fall apart when he heard those words – Mr Gazpacho. But even that didn't compare to how he felt when he directed those hurtful comments at someone else. He knew the amount of harm such things caused, and yet he carried on regardless. He'd sunk to the lowest of the low. He wanted the world to hurt like he hurt, but… no-one deserved that much pain.

Oh darkness, I feel like letting go…..

It wasn't worth it really. To feel like he did when he could so easily end it. Switch himself off. Lister had the Cat and Kryten to look after him now, Rimmer wasn't needed anymore. He knew that if it came down to it, he would be tossed aside just as easily as one of the Cat's used wax strips.

But as soon as he got down to really and truly thinking about it, something would come along and distract him, and for a short while he would feel needed again. But the thought never really left his mind, of taking the easy way out. Perhaps that was what stopped him doing it, the fact that it was the easy way, the route he always took. Perhaps he just wanted to prove to himself that he could keep at something a little more important than unclogging chicken soup nozzles.

If all of the strength and all of the courage come and life me from this place

That's what it was all about really. Cowardice. He was too afraid to be switched off, just in case there really was an afterlife (a thought he would never admit to having, not even to himself) and he saw how much happier and better off the others were without him.

He had always been afraid. Afraid of failing, in case he ended up like his father. Afraid of being himself with girls – at least by using his hypnotherapy books he could explain their repulsion by telling himself that it was all an act, and if they got to know the real him, of course they would like him!

Afraid of saying things that… were too hard to say, but needed to be said.

If only he were stronger, braver. He would no longer be afraid of failing, and actually revise properly for his exams instead of prating around with colour-coded timetables. He wouldn't be in this mess, drifting aimlessly through space. He would be an officer by now, he wouldn't be a hologram because he would be above such things as fixing the drive plate, and the deadly radiation leak would never have happened.

I know I can love you much better than this

If he wasn't so afraid of showing his true feelings, he wouldn't have to hide behind his snide comments and actually say what he felt. Surely it would be better that way?

Anything would be better than this, staring endlessly into the back of that chair, wondering, wishing. Dreaming.

The dreams. That was the only place where it all worked out, where he could be happy. But Rimmer knew that it would never be like that in real life, because he would never let it happen. Because however much he wanted it, and sometimes he really, really wanted it, he would always have that voice in the back of his head saying 'Don't be stupid, it would never work out, he's never gonna feel the same and you'll just be left feeling all embarrassed and worthless as usual'. His paranoia.

Sometimes confidence would counter this – 'But even that would be better than this. At least then you would know, you wouldn't have to spend all your time wondering.' Unfortunately for Arnold Rimmer, Confidence was almost always out on a business trip when he was needed most. 'This is Confidence. I'm sorry, I'm too busy to take your call right now, but if it's really important, leave a message and I'll try and get back to you.'

Beep.

'Help. Please help me'

Please review! xxx