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smaych.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
reddwarfslash2007-11-19 09:24 pm
smaych.livejournal.com) wrote in reddwarfslash2007-11-19 09:24 pm
Fic: Shadow of his Former Self - PG-13
Title: Shadow of his Former Self
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf or make any money.
Spoilers: Legion
Notes: This was inspired totally by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kahvi, and is therefore dedicated to her.
When the hologram known as Rimmer first came into existence he knew what he was. He was photons and complex programming, a set of personality algorithms projected like a 3 D slide show. Despite knowing this perfectly well he spent a long time back then trying to come to grips with it, pushing his fingers through tables and walls and sleeping bunkmates to feel that small, strange tickle, like the ghost of pins and needles, that fizzed at the contact.
He discovered that he could have Holly change the way he looked. He spent a secret afternoon trying different bodies, hairstyles, even faces. He made himself buffer, bigger, his hair less sticky-outy and his nostrils less flared. The result was devilishly handsome, if he did say so himself – but at the sound of Lister's footsteps approaching he instantly changed back, feeling ridiculous and pathetic, as if he'd nearly been caught trying on his mother's shoes.
One day when arguing with Lister in the drive room he'd leant against the wall and been too distracted to notice he'd overshot it and his hand was lost somewhere behind the ocean grey paintwork. He realised that there was a power cable behind there intersecting his wrist. He could feel it. The electricity pulsed vrrmm vrrmm vrrmm, like a heartbeat. He pulled back, and experimentally moved his fingers along the edges of the electromagnetic field, feeling it lick softly at his skin. It was different to how he remembered touch being, more subtle, indescribable. But it was touch nonetheless. His mouth fell open. He noticed that Lister had stopped talking and was staring at his face. He swallowed. Lister took a step towards him, and he stood upright quickly and stalked from the room, ignoring the quiet “Rimmer...” that followed him.
After that he was careful not to let Lister catch him running his hands through circuit panels, or tracing cables along corridors, the same breathless, hungry look on his face. Sometimes he would stick his tongue out through a thin wire and it would almost hurt. After a while he knew the ship like a circuit diagram.
When the hologram known as Rimmer first came into existence he knew what he was not. He was not, never had been and never would be, human. When Lister patronisingly treated him like he was, it only reminded him of this.
Being hard light also reminded him. Although he had the memories of smell and touch and taste this was, technically, the first time he had experienced them first hand. After so many years of sensory deprivation he found it was the smell that took him longest to adapt to. Beer. Vindaloo. Cat. Oil. Bleach. Sweat. After a single day back on Starbug he wound up on his knees retching in the shower until, sobbing embarrassingly, he reverted back to soft light feeling like a total failure.
One day, out of the blue, Lister asked him about it.
“Why aren't you hard all the time?”
And Rimmer nearly choked on his own tongue.
The hologram known as Rimmer knows what he is. Even now, in his hard light body, he feels the old electrical fizz from Lister's touch on his hands and his tongue and his skin. It burns.
Pairing: Lister/Rimmer
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own Red Dwarf or make any money.
Spoilers: Legion
Notes: This was inspired totally by
kahvi, and is therefore dedicated to her.When the hologram known as Rimmer first came into existence he knew what he was. He was photons and complex programming, a set of personality algorithms projected like a 3 D slide show. Despite knowing this perfectly well he spent a long time back then trying to come to grips with it, pushing his fingers through tables and walls and sleeping bunkmates to feel that small, strange tickle, like the ghost of pins and needles, that fizzed at the contact.
He discovered that he could have Holly change the way he looked. He spent a secret afternoon trying different bodies, hairstyles, even faces. He made himself buffer, bigger, his hair less sticky-outy and his nostrils less flared. The result was devilishly handsome, if he did say so himself – but at the sound of Lister's footsteps approaching he instantly changed back, feeling ridiculous and pathetic, as if he'd nearly been caught trying on his mother's shoes.
One day when arguing with Lister in the drive room he'd leant against the wall and been too distracted to notice he'd overshot it and his hand was lost somewhere behind the ocean grey paintwork. He realised that there was a power cable behind there intersecting his wrist. He could feel it. The electricity pulsed vrrmm vrrmm vrrmm, like a heartbeat. He pulled back, and experimentally moved his fingers along the edges of the electromagnetic field, feeling it lick softly at his skin. It was different to how he remembered touch being, more subtle, indescribable. But it was touch nonetheless. His mouth fell open. He noticed that Lister had stopped talking and was staring at his face. He swallowed. Lister took a step towards him, and he stood upright quickly and stalked from the room, ignoring the quiet “Rimmer...” that followed him.
After that he was careful not to let Lister catch him running his hands through circuit panels, or tracing cables along corridors, the same breathless, hungry look on his face. Sometimes he would stick his tongue out through a thin wire and it would almost hurt. After a while he knew the ship like a circuit diagram.
When the hologram known as Rimmer first came into existence he knew what he was not. He was not, never had been and never would be, human. When Lister patronisingly treated him like he was, it only reminded him of this.
Being hard light also reminded him. Although he had the memories of smell and touch and taste this was, technically, the first time he had experienced them first hand. After so many years of sensory deprivation he found it was the smell that took him longest to adapt to. Beer. Vindaloo. Cat. Oil. Bleach. Sweat. After a single day back on Starbug he wound up on his knees retching in the shower until, sobbing embarrassingly, he reverted back to soft light feeling like a total failure.
One day, out of the blue, Lister asked him about it.
“Why aren't you hard all the time?”
And Rimmer nearly choked on his own tongue.
The hologram known as Rimmer knows what he is. Even now, in his hard light body, he feels the old electrical fizz from Lister's touch on his hands and his tongue and his skin. It burns.
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