Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: None
Category: Gen
Relationships: Dave Lister & Arnold Rimmer
Characters: Arnold Rimmer, Dave Lister, Kryten (Red Dwarf), The Cat (Red Dwarf) - mentioned
Additional Tags: Introspection, Panic, Anxiety, bc ofc. this is rimmer. it's normal for him :), Soft-Light Arnold Rimmer, Episode: s06e01 Psirens, remember how rimmer noticed his charge was going? i sure did, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, since it hurts him both physically and emotionally i decided, Charging, Battery Power, Angst, Red Dwarf References, (refs to other episodes)
Language: English
Chapters: 1/1
Words: 3,360
Summary:
Rimmer reflects on his battery-powered existence. That can't end well. Lister finds him and learns why Rimmer doesn't want to talk about it.
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I DID IT! FIRST RD FIC! I've been in love with this show FOREVER so it's only fitting that I give myself a birthday prezzie and upload this an hour into my birthday (it's 1am lads).
@lilacthebooklover this was the thing I was writing :) I know you don't know the show so I'm not expecting you to read it, but I did actually manage to finish this lol.
Good night, Tumblr. Stay safe <3
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Rimmer couldn’t sleep.
It was nothing new to him, really. He’d carried it over from his childhood - nights spent tossing and turning due to hunger, starved as a punishment for getting astronavigation questions wrong at dinner. Perhaps his body had learned from these experiences; “ah yes, bedtime. That’s when you lie in bed, thinking about everything you’ve ever done wrong and will continue to do wrong. Sleep? What’s that?”
Rimmer sighed, rolling into a more comfortable position. Thinking about his childhood in the wee hours of the night was never a good idea, though unfortunately inevitable. It always sent him down a dark path - if only he’d been better. Maybe, just maybe, if he’d tried - and I mean, really tried - he’d have gotten somewhere, instead of being a dead hologram three million years into deep space with about zero chance of ever getting home.
But, the thing is - he did try. Young Rimmer had poured over his study books until his eyes stung, wrote out formulas and excerpts until his fingers bled. But it was never enough. Not for his teachers, not for his peers.
Not for his parents.
Rimmer squeezed his eyes shut tight. He desperately tried to will the thoughts away, make them disappear to the dark crevices of his mind and never return. But it was never that easy. No - nothing could ever go right for ol’ A. J. Rimmer.
Maybe I just need to walk this off. With an exasperated (and shaky - when had his breathing become shaky?) sigh, he pulled himself up to sit on the edge of the bed. However the all-to quick shift from horizontal to vertical triggered a sudden dizzy spell, causing him to grip the side of the bed with such force his knuckles went white.
Rimmer could feel his breath quickening. Bringing his hands into eye level, he saw just what he didn’t want to see - he was trembling. Oh god, not now. Not here. What if Lister wakes up? God, I’d never hear the end of it. He’d mock me forever.
He quickly realised he could no longer regulate his breathing. Still sitting on the edge of the bed he doubled over, holding his head in his hands. His fingers gripped hopelessly at his hair in a pathetic attempt at grounding himself. No matter how much he repeated that damned “you’re not in danger, everything is okay” mantra he’d taught himself, he couldn’t calm down. Nothing felt real anymore. The room was closing in on him, and yet felt all too big, and all the while spinning. He felt he might faint, and yet was all too alert and aware of the situation.
“Rimmer?”
No. Smeg, no. God, please don’t let this be smegging happening.
“Go back to sleep, Lister.” was what he tried to say, but the words got caught in his throat - and instead, he let out a sort of strangled gasp. This only made Lister more worried.
“Rimmer man, what’s wrong?” Lister asked, voice thick with worry. With a bit of effort (he had only woken up less than thirty seconds ago, in all fairness), Lister swung himself off his own bunk and carefully sat down next to Rimmer, trying not to startle him.
God, Rimmer tried to stay strong. He tried to put on a brave face, tell Lister to get back in his own bed and “I’ll be fine, it’ll pass in a few minutes.” But he knew all too well the minutes ticked by like hours when he was like this, and Lister’s tone was so soft, so caring - like warm rays of sunshine to the hailstorm in his mind. It was enough to make him cave.
“I can’t- I can’t breathe.” he managed to gasp out, the words coming out strangled and unintelligible. But Lister understood. Of course he understood, he always understood. His breath hitched as Lister placed a hand on his back. It was all too much.
“Hey, hey, It’s alright. I’m here, okay? I’m not goin’ anywhere.” Lister cooed, rubbing circles on Rimmer’s back. “D’ya think you can look at me?”
Rimmer shook his head furiously. He couldn’t bare seeing Lister’s face right now. The way his eyes softened with that look he gave him in these situations. Just thinking about it was enough to make Rimmer’s lip quiver.
“Hey, that’s okay. Just focus on ye breathin’, yeah? Try and slow down. You’re okay, Arn.” Lister changed from rubbing Rimmer’s back to squeezing his shoulder gently, ever so slightly pulling his trembling body closer to his own.
Rimmer didn’t understand. Why did Lister care so much? It would’ve been easier if he’d just rolled over in bed and tried to ignore his panicked hyperventilating. Or, better yet, told him to smeg off and have his panic attack somewhere else, because “some of us are tryin’ to get some sleep here.” But that wasn’t Lister. Lister was caring, empathetic. He always tried to help however he could - even when the person needing help was a stuck-up, cowardly smeghead such as Rimmer. It didn’t make sense.
As per Lister’s instructions, he sucked in a long breath through his teeth. It was a struggle, when your own lungs were staging a mutiny against you - but Lister’s encouragement seemed to make them let off a bit. One painful, long breath turned into two, and three, and four. With every new breath the tightness in his chest and throat eased a little, his trembling subsided, and the room seemed to adjust itself back to how it’s supposed to be: still.
In no time he was back to… well, not normal, but a much less panicked state. He still felt like complete and utter shit, but at least he didn’t feel like he was dying (despite already being dead, har har) anymore. Lister still had his arm wrapped around him, keeping him grounded like a lifeline. Rimmer finally felt safe enough to remove his hands from his face, slowly pulling himself upright.
Lister took one look at his haggard features - even in the dark, he could make out the dark eyebags and furrowed brow that seemed permanently tattooed on in recent times - and felt his heart ache for the man. “Are you alright now?”
“Yeah- Yes, I’m alright now. Thank you.” Rimmer managed to croak out, clearing his throat. He shook his head. “God, how embarrassing. You shouldn’t have had to witness that.”
Lister sighed. “Rimmer, how many times have I told ya? I’m not just ‘putting up with you’ or anything. I care about ya, man. I wanna make sure you’re okay.” When this elicited no response out of Rimmer - save for making him decide the floor was so interesting it deserved his full attention - Lister changed the point of conversation.
“So, what brought it on? Did something trigger it, or was it just.. a surprise?” Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking about how much of a terrible smeg-up I am. It’s part of my nightly routine, don’t you know. Of course Rimmer couldn’t tell him the truth.
“It was completely random. I was just trying to sleep! Honestly, I don’t know what came over me.”
Lister clicked his tongue. “Well, Kryten did diagnose ya with a panic disorder. He said these attacks can just happen at random. It’s not like it’s something you have very much control over.” Rimmer sighed.
“Oh, I know all that. It’s just… what’s the right way to put it? Annoying? Childish? It’s too early in the morning for this.”
“Then let’s try to get some shut-eye, yeah?” When Lister made a move to get up, Rimmer felt his heart jump into his mouth - a kind of primal fear gripping at his chest, not unlike how he felt a mere five minutes ago. Oh, no. I’m not letting a round two happen. “Wait!” He reached out to grab Lister’s arm.
Lister quickly returned to sitting beside him, worry etched into his features. “Please. I..” Rimmer glanced away, the words dying on his tongue. He took a breath to steady himself before continuing.
“Do you think.. you could stay here for a bit? I just.. Don’t think I’ll be getting to sleep anytime soon. I’d prefer you to stay with me.” He avoided eye contact at all cost. God, how embarrassing. Like a child who needs his teddy-bear.
Lister’s gaze softened, and returned his arm to it’s post on Rimmer’s shoulder. “Of course, man. Whatever you need. I’ll be right here beside ya.” Despite how crummy he was feeling, Rimmer felt a smile tug at his lips.
And as he sat in that bunkroom, warm in Lister’s embrace, all his troubles seemed to melt away. It didn’t matter that he was dead, or a hologram, or three million years away from home.
No, actually. He wasn’t three million years away from home. The definition of ‘home’ had changed drastically for him over the years. Now, ‘home’ was Red Dwarf - in the dingy, falling-apart bunkroom that he and Lister shared.
God, that’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever thought.
Rimmer smiled. A genuine, albeit tired, smile. He allowed his eyes to slip closed. Just this once he’d indulge himself in the pleasure of falling asleep on Lister’s shoulder. Sure, he said that the last three times this happened - but really, who’s counting?
In no time, Rimmer was fast asleep. It was the best sleep he’d had in weeks…
…save for the neck pain he experienced the next day due to the unfortunate position.
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