Fic: Goodbye (PG)

[hazeltea.livejournal.com]

Summary: Kryten and Kochanski have a talk.
Pairing: Lister/Kochanski, Lister/Rimmer imp.
Disclaimer: Obviously, I have no legal claim on Red Dwarf.



Kryten watched Kochanski push beck her lank, dark hair as she took a bite of her lentil pilaf. Thirteen bites, moderately chewed, enough to swallow, but with minimal effort. Her complexion was translucent, her expression vacant of emotion, as it had been for weeks. Just thirteen bites. It was progress. Breakfast had been four.

The woman barely spoke these days, and Kryten was torn between relief and despair, despair as he could not make her smile, or at least make her act as though the funeral had ended, which it had nineteen days ago. Relief, because he did not have to speak if she wasn’t speaking. Relief, because in comparison to her thirteen bites, Mr. Lister had only taken three of his supper, but nine cans of lager with it. Relief that Kochanski didn’t stare him down like Lister did, silently demanding answers that he didn’t have.

Kochanski’s pale face was illuminated by the faint blue light of the computer screen that rested on her stomach, the only light in the room. Her fingers tapped out an elaborate rhythm, the stopped, repeating the routine in short spurts. Her eyes would glance at Kryten, and he would pretend to be mending a sock. She would look back, and Kryten would try to deduce what she was typing by the number of taps on the keyboard. Was she keeping a journal? Was she working? She seemed to be the type that worked through pain, unlike Mr. Lister, who drank through it. However, if she was keeping a journal, she might be writing about him, blaming him for the botched delivery of two tiny, half formed humans. Guilt seared through his circuits, and he threw down the sock and needle, causing Kochanski to startle.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” He began to babble frantically, unable to think of anything else to say. What else does one say to a distraught human?

“Krtyen.” She set the computer aside, and gave him a firm look. “For the last time, it wasn’t your fault. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing any of us could have done." She sat up straighter, and leaned towards him.

Kryten wrung his rubbery fingers and nodded, out of a sense of what was proper to do in such a situation. There was a moment of silence before she gathered her words again.

“...It was a mistake to think that it would work out.” She continued, looking him in the eyes with the sort of quiet focus he hadn’t seen her display in weeks. “We’re from different realities, in a mirror universe. I think… Kryten, I think my body rejected them. It knew it wasn’t right. It knew that I was something that doesn’t belong here.” She looked sideways then, not meeting his gaze as she managed her confession. “I should go.” She whispered. “Dave is avoiding me, you know. He tried at first, but every time he sees me it only makes him worse.”

She choked on her words, and Kryten hurriedly patted her on the back in the encouraging manner that is supposed to bring comfort to humans. “Now, Miss Kochanski, Ma’am, it’s not as bad as all that.” He knew it was a lie as he said it. He was thankful that Mr. Lister had taught him to lie so effectively in the past.

She caught her breath and gave a determined sigh. “It’s true, though. I don’t belong here. I’m making your Dave lose his mind while my Dave is still out there, somewhere, going to pieces, and both because of me. I never should have tried to make it work, acting as though nothing was wrong. I’m the one that should be apologizing.” She flicked back her hair again, hair that needed washing and brushing in a way that distracted him, yet the urgency of a shampoo and blow out seemed lost on her. “I’m going to leave, Kryten, and you have to help me. You’re the only one that would understand that it would be for his own good.”

“You can’t!” Kryten gasped, and froze as he wondered why. Wasn't this what he'd always wanted? After all, Miss Kochanski had often demonstrated that she could take care of herself, that was certain. She seemed to think that Mr. Lister would adjust in her absence, and as a human, and a woman to boot, she surely knew more about these things than a mere mechanoid. And yet… and yet. He did not want her to leave.

“Who will do your laundry?” he managed, weakly.

She smiled at him, making him feel terribly sad and alone. “You can do something more important than that.” She replied, removing a small, round disc from the computer. “I’ve spend days updating this. I need you to find the light bee and boot it up.”

A sinking feeling overcame Kryten. “That isn’t what I think it is, is it?”

She nodded. “ I'm sorry. It’s Dave’s sanity.”

The unpleasant sinking feeling rose, in a way similar to bile. “But… Ma’am, what about my sanity?” he choked. And then, to his amazement, Kochanski laughed.

“You’ll do it, won’t you?” she asked.

Kryten nodded, and headed to the door, astonished to think that he would miss her, as well.