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brummiereader · 3 months

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MASTERLIST PART THREE

Unchained Melody (Part Four)

Summary: After a distressing day of events, you and Tommy finally have the conversation you had both been avoiding for over a fortnight. All under the furious glare of the Governess as she watches from the window, fuming that her plan had fallen apart.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining, medical emergency

Word Count: 5334

Counting the days since your return to Arrow House had quickly turned into counting weeks. And just as you had once stored the memory of time passed, you found yourself in the midst of loneliness once again. Your new life felt much the same as it once did, albeit with a clearer mind, and the cherished guiding hand of reassurance from your dear housekeeper, Frances. But as you tried to rebuild the severed bond with your son, one thing from your previous life stubbornly remained without any hope of changing. Tommy's absence. Two weeks had passed since your husband had given you a difficult dose in the reality of your disappearance from his life to swallow. And two weeks had passed since you last spoke more than a few words to each other. If his avoidance of you wasn't obvious before, there was now no denying it.

Ashamed of his behavior, and begrudging the fact the near full contents of a whisky bottle he had consumed that night was not enough to dull his memory of the moment he had nearly struck you, Tommy had all but barricaded himself off, and away from any resurfacing grievances he still held for you.

Not allowing yourself to follow your husband's emotional course of self-destruction, you decided to focus your attention on one thing. William. If your husband's bullheadedness had no intentions of following his Aunt's advice, then you would. For all the years you had lived within the tight-knit family you had married into, you had learnt one thing. Polly was always right. Always.

With the wise words of the Shelby matriarch playing on loop in your thoughts as you sat at your vanity, brushing your hair into a loose updo, you forgoed any hopes of reconciliation with your husband, and did as the saying goes. "Let sleeping dogs lie"

Just let him be. You told your nagging brain as you stood up, placing your ivory pearl tear-dropped earrings into your ears, forcing them with a wince through the thin layer of skin that had formed from the many years you had gone without jewellery. A birthday gift from Tommy. Was a little part of you hoping he would notice? You thought to yourself as you opened your bedroom door, wondering if the subtle gesture of gratitude you still held for him would go overlooked. Not that you were trying, of course. And like everything else you had been thrown into in the past two weeks, now was your chance to find out. For just as you reached the top of the staircase, so did your husband, and with it an uncomfortable, almost unbearable silence following him.

" Tommy" you greeted him, unable to force a smile through the sorrow weighing down your heart at his absent gaze as you searched his face for the same desperation you felt.

" Morning" he stated, void of any notions of intimacy as he cleared his throat. Sending but a mere glimpse your way, he gestured with his hand for you to lead the way.

For the briefest of moments all you could do was stand there, hoping like some silly school girl he'd notice the birthday present he had gifted you all those many moons ago. But as Tommy fished in his suit jacket for a much-needed puff of the cigarette calling his name, a dousing of embarrassment piled onto the already mounting heap you had accumulated over the past two weeks, and thus further installing Polly's words to you.

Focus on William. You reassured yourself holding your head high as he followed behind you, quickly inhaling the fumes from the tightly coiled cylinder of tobacco resting between his lips.

But Tommy did notice. He would have noticed a single eyelash out of place if given enough time to do so. Everything, and anything to do with you Tommy noticed, anything but the one thing he had regretfully refused to face, and would now haunt him to his grave, tormenting him for not saying something enough to soothe your worries away. You wore royal blue that night. He thought to himself, recalling the evening he had gifted you the delicate pearled jewels that were gracefully swaying through the whispers of your hair gathered together into pins as he took each step down the long wooded staircase behind you, watching the skin on your neck pucker into small goosebumps from the light spring breeze flowing through the open windows. The same night he held you tightly in his arms, making love to you in front of the fireplace of your living room. The night he was sure William was made. He recounted, losing himself in the small ghost of a smile etched on the corner of his mouth as he watched the end of your dress glide over each step, while the memory of you profusely refuting his calculations entered his thoughts. But when William was born exactly nine months later, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of cockiness that his keen eye for observation, and his note of a very needy wife that night hadn't gone a miss.

"Mrs Shelby, Mr Shelby. He's been so eager to see you both" Frances smiled upon seeing you descend united down the staircase, a small amount of misplaced hope in her heart that you had worked through things as you both beamed at the wriggly two-year-old unable to contain himself any further in her arms at the sight of his parents.

" William! Hi sweetheart " You smiled, kneeling down as his little legs charged towards you, throwing himself into you with a squeal and a thud. " Did you grow during the night? I think you did" you tickled under the curve of his chin, rubbing your nose over his as your husband's heart pulled at it's tethered strings from seeing the peaceful image of his wife and son together, an image he never thought he'd witness again " What do you think Tommy? Doesn't he looked like he's gro.." You said, momentarily forgetting your self as you turned to face your husband, only to be met with an empty space with Tommy having already walked off to his office.

" Come Mam, I have breakfast ready for you both" Frances sighed ushering you away from the sadness enveloping you as you pulled your only connection to your husband tightly in your arms. " Don't fret now" she said placing her hand to your back, as all your reserves left and a tear began to well in your lashes. " Time is a great healer" she whispered to you with a loving smile as the dining room door closed behind you both and Tommy glanced back, watching his family shut him out. How long would he keep this up before he buckled?

"Good day to you Mrs Shelby, and young Master William" the gardener, Mr Heath greeted you both taking his gloves off as you and William made your way out into the gardens of Arrow house later that morning, feeling the need to walk off the large breakfast of crumpets, and every spreadable food known to man that Frances had lovingly prepared for you.

" Look who it is William! Say hello" you guided him forward with a smile, watching him toddle to the enticing flower bed bright with colours Mr Heath had undoubtedly spent most of his morning planting. With an incoherent babble of words leaving his lips, William sized up the flower in front of him, picking it from its root before you had time to scoop him up into your arms. " I'm sorry Mr Heath. Nothing seems to escape him at the moment" you apologised as you held William on your hip with his victory grasped firmly between his chubby fingers.

" Plenty more where they came from. Isn't that right William? We'll make a gardener of you yet" he winked to your son, looping his thumbs through his suspenders as William kicked his feet back and forth with a squeal, muddying your freshly laundered dress. " Got some of those roses you like Mam, had one of the lads plant 'em this morning. Miss Gray insisted on them being added to the new flower bed you've been designing. And I'm not foolish enough to say no to her, ay?" he said with a chuckle nodding them out as your eyes widened, and a smile flashed across your face at the touching gesture, and Polly's keen memory of the flowers you would have the groundsmen plant rows of so you could adorn the rooms of Arrow house with their sweet perfume.

" Oh Mr Heath, thank you! You're ever so kind" you said, placing your hand on the curve of his shoulder as your eyes brimmed with tears at his gentle nature, unaware the whole interaction was being watched by your husband who was stood at his office window.

" Well, well. She seems to have a soft spot for your trusted gardener" the Governess said announcing her presence, snaking forward behind Tommy as his jaw tightened at the sound of her voice, his fists clenching furiously onto the windowsill Infront of him." She's often out there talking to him, for hours on end"

" Get out" he stated coldly as Tommy continued to watch you from afar, the Governesses words slowly sowing doubt into his already bombarded thoughts.

" Oh come on Tommy..." She purred, standing behind him as she watched you with William talking to the gardener, her breath hot against the back of his neck, sending a shivering chill down his spine " William's her priority now. She's moving on, time you did too. I see a little spark between them" she giggled, brushing her hands around his waist down to his belt whilst she rested her freshly powdered cheek on his back as a heavy release of anger quickly heated the tips of Tommy's ears from her continued refusal to accept his disinterest in her.

"Keep your vapid thoughts to yourself!" he spat, pulling her talons off him as he marched to his office door puffing furiously on his cigarette before swinging it open for her to leave.

" She doesn't want you Tommy" she teased, her icy glare matching his own as she sauntered past him, taking the cigarette from his mouth then blowing the fumes over his lips before your husband furiously slammed the door and returned back to the window, back to his troubled mind.

Heavy with anger, the Governesses words had left a bitter taste in his spiraling thoughts as he slipped into paranoia. Was this your way to get back at him for the Governess? A fling with one of his staff? He thought to himself, watching your hand drop from the gardener's shoulder, your muffled laughs loud enough to be heard from where he was stood. What was so funny? Were you laughing at him? He fumed with jealousy, his eyes fixed solely on your every movement, ignoring the real reason for your joyful mood.

" William, no darling!" You said with a chuckle, turning to face your two-year-old who had taken a liking to the flower he had picked so much, it was now fully enclosed in his mouth with only the stem sticking out.

"We'll leave those for the horses, ay William?" the gardener laughed, ruffling his dark locks as you pulled the fully intact flower from within his plump cheeks. " I'll have my boys plant some more roses this weekend for you Mam. We'll soon have the gardens looking as they once did" Mr Heath promised, turning back with pride at the flower bed he had spent the previous days planning with you, a little something to help you remember things could be how they once were, given enough time to flower.

" Thank you, Mr Heath" you said, looking around the garden when your eyes darted past Tommy stood at the window in the distance with a cloud of smoke bellowing in front his face, a displeased look etched into his furrowed brow. " Shall we get you inside?" you said glancing away from your husband to your son, wondering what you had done now to have him looking so vexed.

" It's good to have you back Mam" Mr Heath nodded his head to you with a smile as you turned to leave.

" It's good to be home" you called back, adjusting William on your hip as you watched your husband in the corner of your eye, following your every step as you made your way back inside, and unknowingly to face his sour temper.

" Y/N!" Tommy bellowed your name as he came marching towards you when Frances quickly inserted herself between you both, noting the Governess lurking behind the door of the library watching.

" Did you enjoy the flowers Miss Gray had planted for the new garden you've been planning with Mr Heath, Mrs Shelby?" Frances quickly interrupted Tommy before he said something he would later undoubtedly regret. For Tommy's once notorious stoic demeanor had rapidly turned into one of anger since your return. The likely culprit to this sudden change in behavior, still watching down in the corridor, adding more fuel to the flames of your already burning marriage.

" It's beautiful. I must remember to call and thank her" you replied, turning to face your husband with a quizzical brow, watching him turn his head away with a deep sigh as his fingers came up to pinch the tightened skin on the bridge of his nose.

" Mr Shelby, is there something I can help you with?" Frances asked as you both waited, watching the wheels turn in his eyes while he stood with his hands on his hips, head cast down feeling stupid for letting the viper he needed to be rid of slither her way into his paranoia.

"The er, the cake..." he said clearing his throat as he looked up, his eyes darting between you and Frances as you furrowed your brow at his unusual stuttering manner. What had gotten into him?

" Yes Mr Shelby?" Frances replied with a dutiful smile.

" What...what did Mr Giles use this time?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes quickly darted to you then back to your head housekeeper.

"Oh, I wouldn't know Mr Shelby. It was your wife that baked it this week" she said looking to you as you glanced up from smoothing down the jumper bunched up around William's chest whilst he curiously pulled at the pearl dangling from your earring.

" Brandy" you replied as a silence uncomfortably sat between you both while Frances watched on in desperation for you to both reunite, and bring peace and the love you shared back to Arrow House.

" Right" he replied quietly as his eyes lingered on you, gazing between your glossy lips and doe eyes looking up at him through your full lashes. " Right..." he repeated once again before suddenly turning for the front door.

" What...what on earth was all that about?" You asked your housekeeper as a look of puzzlement crossed your face from your husband's chaotic interaction with you.

" I'm not sure Mam" Frances replied guiding you away before glancing back to see a smirk of enjoyment flash across the Governesses lips, her eyes unnervingly narrowing in on her.

With an uncomfortable feeling of dread and unease weighing down her stomach, Frances watched the library door close, and the woman she had clocked onto slip away. What was she up to?

"Soon, William. Just another hour" you sighed, looking up at the clock as your son furiously stomped his feet, throwing his teddy your way with a wail of cries. No snacking, he's on a strict schedule. The Governesses words rang in your ears as you looked back at the ticking hands of the clock, convinced they were purposely going slower than normal. " How about we play with your new train set while we wait for dinner? Yeh?" you said energetically as you stood up from the nursery floor, hoping your enthusiasm would distract him from his rumbling belly. Holding out for his reaction, you waited and watched as he blinked away his tears, then dramatically threw himself to the floor, thrashing about like a crocodile in the throes of a death roll. " Right, you win" you declared, deciding a small snack was nothing worth battling over with a two-year-old as you picked him up and marched to the door and down the staircase. " I'm your mummy, and if you want a snack only one hour before dinner then...well, you can have a bloody snack" you said with determination, ignoring the Governesses rules that were anything but what she claimed to be "polite recommendations".

" Can I help you Mam?" The young kitchen aid Billy asked you as you started rummaging through the many cupboards, while simultaneously stopping Williams curious hands from putting everything and anything in his mouth for a drooling, toothy toddler taste test.

"Do we have any dried fruit, biscuits, bread?" You turned to ask him with a flustered face placing William down, your son instantly making a beeline for a large packet of flour. " William, wait!" you said as he opened the contents, pouring it over the tiled floor.

" Uh oh" he said with his hands out behind a puff of flour filling the air.

" Uh oh, indeed" you said covering your mouth from the giggles you were unable to hold back as you and Billy both looked down at your two-year-old emerging from the cloud of white dust that had settled around him.

" What's going on in here?" The Governess snapped, stood at the door as you patted the flour from your child's clothes. " Billy, clean this up" she demanded as you picked up your son and placed him on the kitchen table, dusting the remaining powdery kitchen staple from his brown locks. " Mrs Shelby. Your presence brings quite the chaos doesn't it?" she said as you sharply turned back to the cupboards, your patience reaching it's limits with her constant undermining of you. " His dinner is in under an hour" she reminded you as she frowned at the various jars and boxes of food you had pulled out from within the kitchen cabinets.

"He's been hungry for a few hours now. Something small won't hurt him before it's ready" you replied with as much assertiveness you could muster, waiting for her next snarky remark.

"Hours? I didn't tell you to starve the poor child. You're his mother, surely you know what he needs?" she replied, her cruel words hitting the little remaining self-confidence you had left as you bent down to William's eye level, his sweet face smiling back at you enough to keep the tears from starting, and the strength to say what needed to be said.

" I am his mother" you said, standing up, placing your arm protectively around your child's back. " And from today, I don't want to hear any more of your council, nor opinions on how I raise him. Know your place, and stay out of my parenting, and marriage" you finished with a labored breath, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you tried to keep your firmness on the matter from falling under the nerves coursing through your body.

"Billy, Mr Giles wants you! " She snapped, turning her piercing glare to the young kitchen aid stood nervously watching at the end of the table.

" But I have to finish up..."

" Now!" she barked, uncrossing her arms as she pulled a small jar of hazelnuts and various dried fruits from the shelf behind her as the young worker hurried past her, his eyes darting to the items of food she had placed on the large wooden table before he shut the door behind him. "Mrs Shelby?" She said pushing the food towards you, as you looked up from your son.

"Here we go, sweetheart" you said with a smile as you reached for the jar of nuts, crushing one between the heel of your hand and the table for him." Good?" You asked as he held his hand out for more, excitedly kicking his feet back and forth.

" Slow down" you giggled as your son delved his hand into the jar whilst you crushed another of the sweet earthy hazelnuts for you to share. "Slowly William" you said furrowing your brow as he began to cough, and your eyes darted around the kitchen for a jug of water as the Governess stood quietly watching. " William here, drink" you said placing a small cup to his lips when a feeling of unease settled in your stomach and your heart rapidly fluttered within you chest at the sound of yours sons sudden, unexpected wheezing. "William...William?" You panicked rubbing his back as his little lungs forcefully strained each labored breath out." Get help!" You cried looking to the Governess as you scooped up your son into your arms, his stifled cries of pain sending your body into a dizzying daze as your ears filled with a piercing ringing.

"What did you give him?!" Tommy shouted, storming through the kitchen moments later with Frances quickly following behind him as you stood there in shock, frantically trying to ease your child's cries.

" Wha...what's happening? Tommy?" You stuttered out between your rapid thoughts as you tried to answer your husband, when Tommy grabbed him from within your arms and placed him down on the cool slabbed floor, pulling his jumper off him.

" What did you fucking give him?!" Your husband screamed at you as his eyes darted up from the blotchy pink rashes covering your child's heaving chest and stomach.

" I...I..." You cried as you picked up the crushed hazelnut on the table next to you as Tommy's eyes suddenly widened in a panic.

" Get the fucking car!" Tommy shouted picking William up in his arms, cradling his limp body tightly against his chest as he ran outside, the Governess feet behind him.

" Frances?..." Your voice trembled as your eyes blinked through the tears welled in your lashes.

" You didn't know, dear. Quick, he needs you" she beckoned you forward from the state of shock welding your feet to the ground.

With a surge of adrenaline pushing you forward and out the front door, you watched as your husband carried your son into the car as the Governess slipped into the seat beside him.

"William!" You cried, as your shaky body frantically ran to them, stumbling forward until your hands landed on the boot of the car. " I'm here...William I'm here" you sobbed as your trembling fingers guided you around the Bentley, only for the Governess to slam the door shut in your face before quickly winding the window up. " Wait, wait!" You cried banging your fists on the glass, trying to garner your husband's attention who was in his own panicked daze as he tried to ease your sons discomfort.

" Go" the Governess instructed the driver as she wrapped her arm around your husbands shoulder, flashing you a look of disgust and contempt before the car drove off in a haste, leaving you in a heap of strangled cried in the muddied grass.

An allergic reaction, something any mother would have know. Something you should have known. But you didn't. And as you watched the car speed away, you felt your body cave in on itself as the weight of the grave error you had made plunged you into the depths of the ground below you, dragging you into nothing but hopelessness and despair. You were his mother... you should have known.

Four hours had passed since your husband had rushed your son to the nearest hospital. And as you sat in the icy bath you had plunged yourself into over two hours ago, you stayed motionless, numb from the thousands of needles pricking your skin as you stared blankly at the droplets of water dripping from the tap at the end of the bath, counting them as they echoed loudly in the empty darkened room.

" Mrs Shelby! My goodness!" You'll freeze to death" Frances gasped upon entering the room, throwing the neatly folded linen in her arms to the floor before pulling the plug from the bath and you along with it.

"Is he dead? Frances... Is he dead?" your voice trembled as you snapped out of your dazed state at the feeling of a warm towel being tightly wrapped around your freezing body.

" William is well, Mam" She replied as she pulled you towards her, frantically rubbing your arms up and down in an attempt to warm your body up. " Mr Shelby is waiting for you in the nursery. He wants to speak with you"

"No. I can't, Frances...not after this. He'll kill me" you panicked as you clutched tightly onto her arm, pulling yourself and her away from the door, away from the anger you feared your husband had for you.

" He'll do nothing of the sort" she reassured your paranoid mind, slowly guiding your reluctant feet to the master bedroom to dress, and the welcoming burning fire she had lit for you.

" I do like to be beside the seaside, oh I do like to be beside the sea" you heard your husband quietly sing as William slept soundly in his arms whilst you watched from the door of the nursery. "Shh, my boy" he said, turning to see you as you shifted nervously from one foot to the other under the moonlight beaming through the windows as he placed William gently into his cot.

" I'm sorry. I...I didn't know" you sobbed quietly as your husband stood with his hands resting on his waist, his face tired and drained from the day's events.

" We need to talk" he said, raising his brow with his hand out pointing to you as he watched you step back and away from him.

" I didn't know Tommy..." you cried, slowly walking backwards until your body hit the door and your fingers frantically reached for the handle behind you as your husband stared you down.

" You gonna run, eh? That's what you do, don't you?" He said following you, his eyes challenging you with every step you took as you stumbled past the furniture of your master bedroom. "Run when things get hard..." his voice rose when you turned and bolted out the door and down the corridor. " Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed down the stairs as he ran after you, watching you push the heavy front door open into the night air. " No! I'm not gonna let you do this again!" He shouted catching up, firmly grabbing your arm as you tossed and turned in his grip.

" Tommy stop!" You screamed, pushing him off you as you stumbled back, your lungs scrambling for air from the anguished cry that had left your lips. " I can't...I can't do this anymore. I'm not fit to be his mother. I could've killed him" you wept breathlessly as you clutched onto the brick wall gating your home.

"You didn't know..."

"I should have though! Why did you bring me back here, Tommy?! Why? You should have left me!" you shouted at him, hitting him across his chest, furious that he had thrown you back into the situation you once fled from after having convinced yourself your presence only brought dread and chaos to the ones you loved the most.

" Left you? You wanted me to fucking leave you?! Do you want to see what you left me with, eh?" Tommy bellowed, as he grabbed you by your arms, stopping your weak blows before dragging you by the wrist to a gated, enclosed area at the back of the house. "There. That's what you left me with" he spat, pushing you through the gate to a stoned monument adorned with carved roses cascading down it's side, your name intricately etched into the marble. " An empty fucking grave Y/N!" He yelled, the force of his words taking his breath away as his body hunched over, heaving for air.

"Tom..." You cried turning to face him, desperately reaching for him.

" Filled with your clothes, pictures of me and William. A tomb without a fucking body" he said, running his hands through his hair as he looked at the marked grave. "He cried for you every night you were gone. I...I didn't know what to do Y/N, he wanted his mother. But you were gone, dead" Tommy sniffed, letting his barrier finally drop as tears welled in his eyes, and he lulled his head back, desperately trying to get a hold on his escaping emotions. "Do you know how that felt, eh? That I couldn't take his tears away, that his own father couldn't settle him?" He said through gritted teeth letting his head drop, letting you see the depths of despair you had left him in. "Two years Y/N. Two fucking years...Why?" He finally gave into the conversation he had been avoiding for over a fortnight.

I...I couldn't cope anymore " you sobbed as you cautiously stepped closer to him with your hands out. " You were never here, I..."

" So it was my fault then?" He quickly interjected, shaking his head with a scoff.

" No! No Tommy" you hurried to correct him, gingerly reaching up to cup his cheeks as you turned his head to face you. " I needed your help. I should have asked for your help" you sniffed as you desperately searched your muddled thoughts for the answers he rightfully deserved. " I felt lost, Tommy. Confused. I didn't understand why I couldn't do what other women did so naturally, when all I've ever wanted to be, all I've ever dreamt of being was a mother. And I couldn't do it, Tommy. I couldn't fucking do it!" You broke down, your fingers grasped tightly onto the front of his shirt. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you wept loudly, your body shaking furiously from the heartache you had put both yourself and your family through with your actions.

Unable to withstand the torment of seeing the woman he loved so broken, so fragile, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he placed a pressing kiss to your head.

" You were doing it though. You couldn't see it, but you were doing everything any mother would have done, sweetheart" he sighed, threading his hand through your hair as he closed his eyes, his longing body starved of your warmth loosening in the comfort of you. "I should..." He sighed as he looked up at the night sky, a gentle breeze drifting past him cooling his simmering temper. " I should have been there. Done more" he said as he cupped your head to look at him. " I should have done more Y/N" he reiterated as his thumb swiped over the tears pooled above your cheeks.

" Forgive me Tommy...please" You sobbed, pressing your forehead to his as you linked your hands tightly around his neck, desperately holding out for his forgiveness.

" I've never had a reason to, darling" he sighed, cradling the side of your head against his thundering heart, his love for you beating rapidly through his chest. For as much as Tommy's troubled mind had put the brunt of your shared problems on your shoulders alone. His heart never betrayed him, never stopped loving you, never once blamed you for the troubled emotions he knew were out of your reach of control.

As you both sat down on the step of the marble headstone, you rested your tired body in your husband's strong frame as he looked up at the glittering sky, silently thanking the unknown for the peace he finally felt having you wrapped in his arms once again. But Tommy's peace would be short-lived. A storm was coming to Arrow house, its maker watching from the window of her room as her face twisted with fury, her bitter mind gleeful of the hell she would bring down on this grand house and everyone in it.

" You fool Thomas Shelby. You fool..

PART FIVE

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secondtechnicianrimmer · 2 months

Text

Space Corp. Directive #1215225

For some ungodly reason, you fancy the second technician, but you'd be damned if you ever admitted it.

Pairing: Arnold Rimmer x (F) Reader

Warnings: None! Apart from some flirting

Chapter Twelve: Under The Console

“Right, so,” Rimmer shot you a wobbly smile over his shoulder. “You’re going to laugh at this.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“Am I?”

“Er… No.”

Standing in the doorway of Starbug’s cockpit, you tried to read the scanner over his shoulder, but the screen warped and fizzled.

Some bright idea this was turning out to be. Trying in vain to rebuild your relationship with Rimmer, you had invited him to go planet hopping, just to see what you could find and stave off the boredom of deep space for a while. It was just the two of you, which had been nice at first, but when Starbug had failed to take off again, you suddenly felt very alone.

“There's something wrong with the engine,” Rimmer narrowed his eyes at the screen, trying to make sense of the half-gibberish it spouted. “Scanner says the intake manifold is faulty.”

“What’s an intake manifold?”

“It supplies fresh air to the cylinders. It, the throttle body, the filter, and the fuel delivery system ensure the proper mixture of air and fuel is burnt by the engine.”

“Right, so…”

You let the names whirl around your head for a second before giving in. There was no point trying to understand any of that, maybe later when you were home safe and had the time, but definitely not now.

“We can’t take off?”

Rimmer shook his head.

“No.”

“And we can’t fix it because-”

“I can’t touch anything and you don’t know how.”

“And we can’t call for help because-”

“The comms are also down.”

“Right. Okay.”

You stared at Rimmer’s back, right between his shoulder blades. His new, puffy red jacket gleamed under the low lights.

There was a pregnant pause. You both seemed to be exhausting every possible ‘what now?’ in your head. Neither of you landed on an idea.

“You were right,” you said eventually. “I’m not laughing.”

Rimmer’s mouth twisted thoughtfully. He glanced at the windscreen.

“At least the view is nice.”

You heaved a sigh like a punctured tire.

He was right, you were on a lovely planetoid in a very peaceful quadrant. A real turn up for the books.

The northern hemisphere was all ocean, deep and blue and vast. The rest of the planet was made up of rolling, soft, creamy sand. Sometimes the dunes rose thirty to forty feet, marching south as the planet narrowed to its pole.

You’d been having a nice time. Actually, it was the easiest that things had been with Rimmer for a while. Since the psi-moon, you’d been on edge, always skirting around each other and never quite meeting the other’s eye. Slowly, gingerly, you had rebuilt yourselves.

Together, you had walked across the sands, keeping your gaze on the horizon, on the lookout for anything that might be of interest. While Rimmer made notes and spoke into his dictaphone, you took photos with the camera Lister had given you to mark your third year aboard Red Dwarf.

“Used to belong to a mate of mine. Peterson,” he’d said with a sad sort of a smile. “He loved this thing. Someone should get some use out of it, eh?”

So to honour the gift and Lister’s first friend aboard Red Dwarf, you’d taken a leaf out of Rimmer’s book and started to compile an album. You’d seen so many wonderful and terrible places, met so many strange creatures and faced so many mad adventures, you thought someone should start chronicling them all.

The camera now lay in Starbug’s co-pilot’s chair. Its one eye watched you, unblinking.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked. “Just wait here until the others notice we’ve been gone too long?”

“For now.”

Rimmer seemed less than thrilled by the idea but it was the only plan you had.

With another pointless sigh, you sank into the pilot’s seat, grabbing your camera on the way down. You let your legs flop over the arm, wedging your back into the corner so that you could lounge comfortably in the old chair.

“How long do you reckon it’ll be?”

“Who knows.”

Rimmer slumped in the co-pilot’s chair, his back straight and his eyes forward, watching the waves wash upon the shore just a few metres away.

“Not long though, I should think,” he added hopefully. “They know we were only popping out. I suppose they’ll start missing you after a few hours and wonder where you’ve got to.”

“They’ll miss you too, Arnold.”

He didn’t bother arguing. Rimmer just scoffed and turned his head away, pretending to look out over the horizon.

In the distance, a cold blue sun was starting to set. In just a few hours, it would be nighttime, and who knew what might happen on this planetoid then.

You stared out at the slowly darkening sands. There could be all sorts of creatures out there. After everything you’d seen, you wouldn’t be surprised if the beaches opened up and swallowed Starbug whole. Another ship, lost.

“Are you okay?”

Your worry must have started to show. Rimmer’s soft hazel eyes crossed your face, his brow creased with concern behind his H.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Just this is reminding me of the crash. A bit. I think.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Mm?”

“The crew.”

“Oh. Er, sometimes.”

His question surprised you. The boys tended to steer clear of the subject. They hadn’t really mentioned it since the day they found you. There was just always something else going on, you supposed.

And you liked that, you liked that they didn’t dwell on things, and maybe it had helped you get over everything that had happened to you, in a way. But not a day went by where you didn’t think about that night and mourn your other life.

“We’d only known each there for a few weeks before we were put in stasis. I suppose we had a laugh while we were doing basic training.”

Rimmer leant back into the chair and let his head roll towards you, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You don’t ever talk about it.”

It was a question and a statement all wrapped up in one.

You started to fiddle with your camera, any excuse to look away.

“No one ever asks. And I don’t like remembering, really.”

“Maybe it would help.”

“Talking about it? Maybe. But who’d wanna listen to that?”

Rimmer blew out a long breath.

“Well, there’s always the automated psychiatrist in the med bay, I suppose.”

“Great!”

He smiled slightly, watching as your fingers fidgeted with the dials and buttons on the back of the camera.

“I want to listen,” Rimmer said eventually.

You scoffed.

“You?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t care about other people’s problems, Arnie.”

Laughably, he looked offended.

“I do! I know it may seem like I don’t but…” He let his head roll to look out of the windscreen for a moment, then turned back to you. “I do care about you.”

You watched him, waiting for a sign that he was kidding, that he was lying, but Rimmer merely watched you back, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you let out a long breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

“When I was assigned, I knew I’d be leaving everything behind. We were travelling to the other end of the universe. I had to say goodbye to all my friends, my family. I was never, ever going to them again, apart from through video messages. But at the time, it felt worthwhile because I would be doing something incredible. For the greater good, you know? Something that mattered. Now I’m stuck here. And it wasn’t worth it at all.”

“There must be some things you like about us.”

“Well, I love you all, don’t get me wrong.” You shot Rimmer a wry smile that he faintly returned. “But I have no useful skills, no future, no purpose. I don’t even know what an intaker manifold is.”

“Intake. It’s a-”

“I know, I know.” You waved a hand. “I just mean, I… I feel like a spare part.”

Rimmer, to his credit, seemed sympathetic. It also seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say to that. And fair enough, it was a worry that had been nagging at you for years. You weren’t expecting any sort of insight, it was just nice to say the words out loud and formulate them into a solid thought.

That said, you were still surprised when the first thing Rimmer said was,

“Spare parts.”

You frowned.

“What?”

He perked up, his eyes wide and excited. Suddenly he was out of his chair and tumbling out of the cockpit.

“Come with me!”

Rimmer led you to a shelf, raised high above your head in Starbug’s living quarters.

Standing on the couch, you reached up and pulled down a grey box. Written across the front in messy black pen were the words ‘Kryten - Emergencies Only’.

“I’d say this counts as an emergency,” Rimmer grinned. “Forget that rubber-headed Akela.”

Laying side by side beneath the console, your legs sticking out and almost tangling, you prised a rectangular cover away from the underside of the controls.

Beside you, Rimmer hummed to himself, taking in the myriad of wires and strange blinking lights.

You didn’t question him out loud but a small part of you couldn’t help worrying. Rimmer had failed his exams countless times and really didn’t have a knack for electronics. If pressed, you would’ve said he was much better suited for something creative, what with all his big ideas and colour-coding skills. But he would never in another three million years admit that.

There was one light not shining. Next to it ran a long number: 839/28027.M_COMMS.765

“Alright,” Rimmer squeezed his eyes shut, wracking his brains. “This isn’t so different from the maintenance work I used to do. It shouldn’t be too difficult?”

He looked at you, practically begging for reassurance.

You smiled and raised your hands.

“You’ve got this, Arn. Just tell me what to do.”

“Didn’t think I’d ever hear you say that.”

You bit your tongue, keeping an instinctive suggestive response trapped behind your teeth.

It was always so easy to flirt with him. Maybe because he was always so receptive. Maybe because you just loved doing it. Maybe because every time you did, Rimmer would look at you all dopey and flustered, his eyelids heavy and his lips parted. But you didn’t think you could take a look like that right now, not when you were in such close proximity.

“So,” You wriggled your shoulders, getting more comfortable on the cold, hard floor. “What’s first?”

Together, you slowly, nervously fixed the comms. While Rimmer tried to remember everything he’d learnt from his textbooks, you waited for each instruction patiently, only moving when he was sure of what to do next.

You unscrewed a tiny panel, checking each part to make sure they weren’t fried, switched out wires and cogs and an all manner of other bits and bobs until finally, Rimmer seemed satisfied.

“Connect this wire to here.”

He pointed at a threatening red wire, then a stubby copper cylinder.

You shot Rimmer a cautious sideways glance.

“Are you sure?”

You were putting an awful lot of trust in a man who had killed himself and several thousand others because of a mechanical fault he failed to fix. The H on his forehead - “A mark of Able,” Rimmer had once said. “Rather than a mark of Cain.” - was a constant reminder of that mistake.

You expected him to hesitate but Rimmer nodded, his gaze steady. And you realised you trusted him, without a shadow of a doubt.

You wrapped the frayed wire around the cylinder until it was secured, then tucked your fingertip over it and gave an experimental tug, but it didn’t give way.

“That’s it,” Rimmer murmured, and you could hear the smile in his voice before you turned your head to him. “That’s perfect. You’re amazing.”

You were glad it was so dark under the console, your face was starting to burn.

“Now what?”

Rimmer shrugged.

“Hold your breath, count to three and make a wish.”

So you did. You pulled in a long breath, then reached up and flipped the comms switch. The light flickered, then began to burn a bright glorious green.

Grinning, you turned your head to Rimmer, only to find he was already looking at you. Wedged under the console, there was hardly any room between you. His head was level with yours and if you’d been able to, you knew your body would have been pressed up against his.

The lights above you scattered colour across Rimmer’s face, catching in his hair, his eyes, the corner of his mouth. You’d read about old Earth traditions, about how your ancestors would hang mistletoe in doorways and kiss to celebrate the turn of winter. That’s how it felt, just you and Rimmer under the warm lights, pressed up against each other, practically sharing one breath. You were halfway out of the dark.

“What did you wish for?” you whispered.

Slowly, though without any hint of shyness or uncertainty, Rimmer’s gaze fell to your lips.

Heart racing, you had to force yourself not to wriggle around too much, but you weren’t used to being looked at so closely.

If you could send a message to yourself - to the you that spent her first few weeks aboard Red Dwarf terrified and confused - you thought you might try and warn her that she’d soon be falling for the moron who, at the time, had avoided you like the plague. She wouldn’t believe you, that you knew for sure.

“You know you glow, don’t you,” you said quietly.

Rimmer frowned.

“Just a bit,” you added quickly. “You’re- I know your light bee projects- You just- When it’s dark, you glow.”

It was something you only noticed after a few years of knowing him. If you caught him in the right light and he was, for once, fairly still instead of jittering and fussing about the place, the light Rimmer gave off was soft and oddly ethereal for someone so intensely irritating.

Rimmer still hadn’t looked away.

“No one’s ever told me that before,” he murmured.

“Oh,” Embarrassed, you gave him a weak smile. “Maybe it’s just me who notices.”

Rimmer opened his mouth but a whining, fizzling chord of static shot out of the comms, so abruptly and so sharply that you jumped and clunked your head on the underside of the console.

“Ow, fuck!”

“Rimmer? Lefty? Is that you?”

You watched Rimmer’s eyes widen as you both recognised the voice at the same time.

“Lister!”

You scrambled out from under the console and slammed your hand down in the receiver.

“Dave, can you hear us?”

“I hear you, loud and clear! How’s the honeymoon, guys?”

“Lister, we’ve broken down,” Rimmer sighed. “We need you to come get us.”

“No way! Why didn’t you say? Have you got coordinates?”

After relaying all the relevant information, Lister signed off with his typical happy-go-lucky cheer, and you were alone again.

“See?” Rimmer grinned at you. “Not so useless, after all.”

“I didn’t do anything. You knew how to fix it, I was just a pair of hands.”

“We make a good team.”

“Yeah, right.” You snorted as you flopped back down in the pilot’s chair again. “I’m just your- What’s them sticks with the grabber at the end?”

“Grabbers.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Rimmer made himself comfortable in the co-pilot’s chair again.

He looked much more at ease now that he knew help was on the way. You wondered if there was still a part of him, even now, that felt responsible for you, even though you weren’t even officially part of his crew and, actually, a few rungs higher than him. Actually, you were practically on a completely different ladder but you thought it best not to mention that.

“You’d be good at that,” Rimmer smirked. “I remember you being pretty grabby on that psi-moon.”

The air in Starbug shifted. Your smile vanished with the warm atmosphere, like someone had opened the cargo door mid-flight.

You hadn’t talked about the kiss since it happened. Rimmer hadn’t brought it up after the way you snapped at him, and you couldn’t even really believe it had happened.

You could still feel it though, when you went to bed at night and everything was calm and quiet and dark. Your body remembered the way he had pressed into you, the way his mouth had moved against yours so urgently, how Rimmer had chased your lips and moaned into your mouth when you squeezed his waist, the first physical contact he’d felt in millennia.

Cheeks burning, you sneered back.

“And you were pretty grabby on the Enlightenment from what I remember.”

It was a low blow. For the most part, you’d let the hurt of Rimmer’s abandonment go. It was years ago now and the pain had dulled; it was poor form to use it against him like that. But sometimes a sharp uppercut was the only thing that made Rimmer think about what he was saying.

His smirk sank into a look so guilty, you almost apologised. But you didn’t. Instead, you pushed through the cold fog to pick at the old wound.

“How did it feel to have sex for the first time in three million years?” you asked quietly, hoping a bit of humour might grease the wheels. “Be honest.”

Rimmer shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Oh, it was… It was okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Well, I was- You know she was nice. I just don’t think I was really in the right state of mind. Or even in my right mind. I don’t know. You go from feeling excluded and pointless to suddenly being able to feel and eat and- It made me go a bit mad, I think. Like when we swapped bodies and I ate that entire Christmas dinner.”

“Yeah, I didn’t appreciate that one.”

“But you remember how it felt? To be a hologram?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was-” You hesitated. For some reason, you felt the urge to confess. “I looked.”

Rimmer frowned.

“Looked where?”

“I asked Holly to- I looked.”

“Oh.”

It went quiet again. You watched colour rise up from under Rimmer’s jacket.

“Oh, well,” He swallowed hard. “That’s… That’s alright.”

Suddenly, Rimmer could look everywhere apart from you.

You smiled.

“You looked too, didn’t you.”

“Yes, but only very briefly and it was dark.”

Silence fell again.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen Rimmer look so deeply uncomfortable. The redness had risen up to his cheeks now. He was almost the same colour as his jacket.

“So,” he said after a moment, clearing his throat. “What did you think?”

“Honestly?” You tilted your head, pretending to think about it just to make him sweat. “Good.”

Rimmer brightened.

“Good?”

“Yeah, very good. Great, even.”

“Really?”

“And, er…?”

“Oh, yeah, Io, amazing. Marvellous.”

Before you knew it, you had burst out laughing.

“Amazing? Really?”

“God, yes. You’re- Well, I’ve always thought you were beautiful but…”

He seemed to realise what he’d said long after the words had left his mouth, but to your delight, Rimmer didn’t try to backtrack or bail, though he did look a little sheepish.

Again, your mind wandered to the man you met all those years ago. That Rimmer would have made that fun choking, squeaking sound he used to make whenever he accidentally showed a bit of humanity. He would’ve legged it or changed the subject or muttered something insulting. Not now though.

The man sitting across from you was still as stubborn and arrogant as ever. He got on your nerves at least three times a day and he was never happy if he wasn’t belittling the people around him. Rimmer was so highly strung you could run a bow across him and play Vivaldi. He was ill-tempered and smug and- He made you smile. He made you laugh. When you were with him, you didn't feel quite so lost and alone. He thought you were beautiful. And when you kissed him, he kissed you back.

Lister was right. That smarmy git. He was always right.

“Rimmer, I-”

A low, grumbling sort of sound interrupted you.

You sat up, throwing an arm around the headrest so that you could twist around in your seat. You couldn’t see anything but it seemed to be coming from deep in the ship.

“Arn?”

“I heard it.”

He had sat up ramrod straight, his eyes wide. Rimmer glanced at the scanner beside him. It appeared to produce no useful information, and out of range of Holly, you had nothing more to go on.

Like startled animals, you slowly picked yourselves up out of your chairs and headed deeper into Starbug.

Surprisingly, Rimmer led the way. He stuck his arms out like a scarecrow to keep you back by a pace, and if you hadn’t been so nervous, you might’ve fallen in love with him a little bit more.

The engines growled as they rolled and chewed up what little fuel remained. The low, steady hum of machinery that usually accompanied Starbug sitting in neutral had shunted up an octave, punctured by a rough, grating sound, like a rock tumbler in an empty oil drum.

“Is that the… Integer manifest?” you whispered.

It felt like you were watching a dangerous animal, and to move too suddenly or to make any noise might startle it into attacking.

“Er…” Rimmer had gone pale. “No. No, I don’t think so.”

He took a tentative step forwards and almost immediately, the engines whirred harder and spat out a spray of sparks.

Panicking, you tried to grab his arm to pull him back, but stopped before your hand passed through him.

“Be careful!”

“It’s fine, I know what I’m-”

The engines sparked again. Suddenly, the hurdy-gurdying flew up to a pitch so high, you had to cover your ears. You stumbled back as the engine roared. Smoke poured out and pooled around your feet.

“Oh, smeg,” Rimmer muttered.

A shriek of electricity, looking for a home, shot out of the engine and into the floor by your feet. It was a close call. Then suddenly, another bolt shot out.

You didn’t have time to react. Before you could stop him, Rimmer jumped in front of you, his arms spread wide. Then he was gone.

“No!”

You stumbled to the floor, landing unceremoniously on your arse. But your eyes stayed fixed on the small, cylindrical chunk of metal that fell to the floor at your feet. Rimmer’s light bee.

“Oh, you fucking- You fucking idiot, Arnold.”

The engine gave in, collapsing in on itself and finally, finally giving up the ghost. It hissed and groaned as it began to cool, and you tumbled forward to scoop up Rimmer’s light bee.

“Oh, God. Oh, God, your-”

You cradled it between two hands, more precious than any diamond. The shell was cracked and splintered, and from in-between the fissures leaked a small puff of grey smoke.

“You stupid man. What have you done?”

You sat back, collapsing against the wall of the ship. Holding Rimmer’s light bee aloft, you tried to catch any sign that it was still working, that he was still alive. There was a faint light within, a dim glow, just an ember, but it was something.

With a sob, you pressed it against your chest, your instincts telling you to keep him close, to keep him warm. You squeezed the light bee in your palm, so hard that you were almost afraid of making the cracks worse.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” you whispered. “I don’t know if this thing is even working. But if it is, and you can, I want you to listen to me closely, Arnold Rimmer.”

You pulled the light bee back so that you could look him in the eye. Held tightly in your hand, it seemed so small and helpless.

“If you wake up,” you said. “If this thing blinks into life again and you appear, yapping and snarking about Io knows what, I promise I will kiss you so hard you’ll see stars.”

As if to prove you weren’t lying, you pressed your lips to his light bee, then again just to be sure.

You stared at it, as if it were a magic lamp, as if kissing it might break the spell and wake him up again, like in the fairytales you’d grown up with. But he didn’t.

“Just come back.” You pressed the light bee back to your chest, hoping he’d be able to hear your heartbeat and take solace from it. “Please come back.”

It was hours before they found you.

Night had fallen completely and the ship was still and cold. You didn’t want to miss the others if they passed by, so you stayed in the cockpit rather than heading to the sleeping quarters.

You were just starting to nod off, Rimmer’s light bee still clutched tightly to your chest, when you saw a flash of white light pass by the ship.

Just a few minutes later, the door slid open and Lister stepped in, a cigarette perched debonairly between his smiling lips.

“Y’alright, miss?” He removed his ciggie so he could grin at you. “Your taxi’s here.”

You had never been so relieved to see anyone in your life. But you had only one thought as Lister came over to you.

You held the light bee up to him, tears blurring your vision.

“Help him.”

Next Chapter

Master List

#red dwarf #arnold rimmer #chris barrie #my post #arnold rimmer imagine #arnold rimmer reader #arnold rimmer smut #arnold rimmer x reader #arnold rimmer x you #arnold rimmer you

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