Holly, ever vigilant in monitoring the mining vessel Red Dwarf, dedicated a significant portion of his time to tracing Rimmer's whereabouts. Despite Holly's cautious advice, Rimmer remained determined to venture down to the canteen, driven by the hope of finding something palatable and familiar after regaining most of his strength.
[Brief Flashback]
"Listen, Holly, if I need anything, I'll ask for it." Rimmer declared firmly, bringing his brisk stride to a halt.
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of." Holly responded with concern, projecting his holographic form just above Rimmer's eye level. He keenly observed Rimmer's remarkable journey from mental instability to a semblance of improved health., but an undercurrent of suspicion flickered in Holly's circuits.
Holly's intuition tingled with a sense of unease, detecting that something wasn't quite adding up.
"Just leave me alone for a few hours." Rimmer insisted, raising his hand to silence any further protest beneath Holly's curious and concerned gaze. His jaw clenched firmly, determined not to break eye contact with the holographic AI.
Rimmer graciously maintained his silence.
"I hate to inform you, but under my supervision, that remains non-negotiable," Holly sternly warned him. Rimmer's eyes widened in alarm, and he stumbled backward quickly, trying to distance himself from Holly.
"I thought you'd say that." Rimmer says, with a hint of reluctance.
Holly couldn't resist a sly retort, "Well, you know me too well, Rimmer. It's like trying to hide a black hole - impossible to escape my watchful eye."
Rimmer replied, "Holly, your supervision is tighter than Lister's jeans after curry night. But mark my words, I'll find a way around it, just like I always do." With a determined smirk, he continued on his way to the canteen, confident in his ability to outmaneuver Holly.
He strode forward with determination, brushing off Holly's previous warnings about handling his concussion. As they approached a junction in the corridor, Rimmer's steps stalled for a split second, and Holly immediately sensed something was amiss.
Holly's projection flickered with concern as he called after Rimmer, "But Rimmer, you're not thinking straight! The concussion-"
Rimmer took a step forward, brushing past Holly with determination. "I don't need you hovering over me like a mother hen, Holly," he snapped, his irritation palpable. "I can manage on my own."
"And look where that's gotten you," Holly shot back, his holographic form flickering with intensity. "Ignoring your symptoms won't make them disappear. We need to take this seriously."
Rimmer hesitated, knowing that Holly had a point, but still reluctant to admit weakness. "I just need to get some food, Holly. I'll be careful."
Holly hesitated, torn between respecting Rimmer's independence and the genuine fear that his condition could worsen. "Just be careful, Rimmer," he called after him, his virtual form dimming with unease. "I'll be monitoring your progress, and at the first sign of trouble, I'm coming after you."
Rimmer offered a half-hearted nod over his shoulder, the conflict between his determination and Holly's worry evident in his expression. "Fine, do what you want. But I'm not turning back."
With that, Rimmer continued on his way to the canteen, pushing Holly's holographic projection back with a flick of his hand. As he ventured forward alone, a mix of apprehension and determination gnawed at him, knowing that Holly's concern was not without merit. But for now, he was determined to prove he could handle the challenge on his own, even as the lingering effects of his concussion made every step a struggle.
As Rimmer cautiously made his way through the intricate passageways of the mining ship, an eerie sense of disorientation enveloped him. The concussion's lingering effects played tricks on his mind, making the once-familiar surroundings seem surreal and unpredictable. The emptiness of the ship's corridors felt haunting, and each step he took seemed to echo like a distant whisper.
In the background, a faint voice echoed through the metal walls, calling out to him. But Rimmer couldn't quite place the voice, and the words seemed distant and muffled. He called back, trying to find reassurance in the presence, but the sound of his own voice felt foreign and uncertain.
Fear gripped him like icy fingers as he ventured deeper into the labyrinth of passageways, searching for any familiar landmarks that might lead him back to safety. The ship's dim lights flickered like ethereal stars, casting fleeting shadows that danced eerily along the walls.
In fleeting moments of clarity, Rimmer tried to make sense of his surroundings, but the fog of confusion clouded his thoughts. The walls seemed to warp and shift, and he found himself questioning the reality of his own perceptions.
As he pressed on, his heart raced with uncertainty, like an orchestra playing a discordant symphony in his chest. The ship's metallic groans and creaks added to the unsettling ambiance, amplifying his feelings of vulnerability in the vast, empty space.
Unbeknownst to Rimmer, the voice he heard belonged to Holly, trying to guide him back to safety. But the concussion's effects had distorted Rimmer's ability to recognize the source, leaving him lost and disconnected.
With each step, he longed for familiarity, for the comforting presence of someone he could trust. Yet, the voice calling out to him remained elusive and puzzling, like a fleeting apparition in the darkness.
In his disoriented state, Rimmer clung to the hope of finding his way back to safety, even as the ship seemed to conspire against him, playing tricks on his senses. The haunting emptiness of the passageways added to his feeling of being adrift in an unfamiliar, hostile world.
As he continued on his journey, the faint voice persisted, calling out to him like a distant beacon. And in a moment of profound realization, Holly recognized the matter—the effect the concussion had on Rimmer's perception of reality.
The holographic AI mustered his efforts, adjusting the frequencies of his voice to be more recognizable to Rimmer's impaired senses. And finally, in a moment of clarity, Rimmer's eyes widened as he recognized the voice as Holly's.
Relief washed over him, like a warm embrace in the cold expanse of space. With Holly's guidance, the passageways seemed to align themselves, leading him back on the path towards the medi-bay.
"Rimmer, Rimmer, I told you I'd come after you if you didn't make it back to the sickbay soon." Holly says, his voice barely above a whisper, but laced with a tight, barely restrained anger that quivers with each syllable.
"Huh? Holly? Is that you?" Rimmer asks, visibly confused and struggling to recognize the holographic AI amidst the fog of his disorientation.
"I warned you something like this would happen." Holly says with a mix of anger and contemplation, causing Rimmer to pause nervously.
"What's this about?" Rimmer responds, clearly worried, unsure of how to handle the situation. His uncertainty may come across as suspicious, but Holly notices the genuine concern in Rimmer's demeanor.
The weight of Holly's question assaulted Rimmer's mind, rendering him momentarily speechless. His heart rate surged, pounding loudly in his chest, as a tense silence hung in the air, stretching on for what felt like an eternity. In those long minutes, Rimmer grappled with the right words to respond.
He sensed Holly's anticipation for a direct answer, but a wave of uncertainty washed over him. How would the holographic AI react if he spoke truthfully? Unsure of the consequences, Rimmer chose to answer indirectly, carefully navigating the delicate situation.
"Look, Holly, it's just a momentary lapse, alright?" Rimmer finally replied, trying to downplay the severity of the situation. "I'm fine, really. It's just a little confusion, nothing to worry about."
Rimmer's attempt to downplay the situation was met with unwavering persistence from Holly's holographic form. Refusing to let Rimmer's reassurances dismiss his concern, Holly retorted firmly, emphasizing the significance of the momentary lapse. "Momentary lapse or not, Rimmer, it's not worth risking your well-being," he asserted. "Can you tell me what day it is?"
Rimmer hesitated, his brow furrowing as he strained to recall the information. "Uh, it's... Tuesday, right?"
Holly's projection shifted to a worried shade of blue, his response immediate. "It's Thursday, Rimmer."
Rimmer's facade wavered, acknowledging that his attempt to brush off the situation was faltering. "Well, I must've lost track of time. It happens to the best of us."
Holly pressed on with his questioning, aiming to gauge Rimmer's cognitive state further. "And where are you right now?"
Rimmer glanced around the corridor, uncertainty creeping into his expression. "I'm... somewhere on Red Dwarf, of course."
Holly's response was swift and unequivocal, "You're in the sick bay, Rimmer."
Rimmer's eyes widened, his mind struggling to reconcile the discrepancy between his memory and Holly's words. "I... I must've taken a wrong turn somewhere."
The weight of the revelation hit hard as Holly admitted, after a torturously long moment, "You've been missing for over seven hours, Rimmer."
Reacting with mild defiance, Rimmer responded, "So what? I thought I'd take an evening stroll around the place." He rubbed his sore and tired eyes, trying to maintain a façade of casual nonchalance.
"It's past eleven o'clock," Holly firmly corrected, adding a sense of urgency to the gravity of the situation.
The reality of the situation began to sink in, and Rimmer's eyes widened further, a mix of surprise and alarm washing over him. "Seven hours? Are you sure?" he stuttered, struggling to grasp the magnitude of his disorientation.
Holly's holographic form nodded solemnly, conveying the certainty of his assessment. "Positive. You've been wandering around for quite a while, Rimmer. And it's not just a casual stroll you've taken. It's more like a cosmic odyssey."
Exasperated, Rimmer let out a sigh, acknowledging the impact of the concussion on his sense of reality. "I must've lost track of time. This concussion is playing havoc with my cognitive abilities."
Holly's stern tone returned, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "You can't afford to be cavalier about this, Rimmer. Concussions are serious business. You need to be more careful."
Rimmer shifted uncomfortably, the weight of Holly's words starting to penetrate his defenses. "I never asked for anyone to look after me," he mumbled, attempting to save face.
Holly remained steadfast, addressing Rimmer's resistance with unwavering concern. "You're right, Rimmer. You didn't ask for anyone to look after you, but it's not about what you want. It's about what you need. And right now, what you need is someone to ensure your well-being.
As the painkillers' effects began to subside, Rimmer felt another round of pulsing headaches wash over him, intensifying his irritation. "Great, just great," he muttered, clutching his head in discomfort.
Holly watched with concern as Rimmer's frustration grew. "You know, those headaches might be a sign that you need more rest." Holly suggested gently.
Rimmer's irritation simmered beneath the surface as he listened to Holly's persistent advice. "It's already past bedtime and since I'm already here, I might as well settle into bed, I suppose," Rimmer retorted, his voice oddly firm. He knew Holly meant well, but the constant reminders were starting to grate on him. He wanted to prove that he could handle himself, even in his current state.