Chapter Text
Three million years into deep space, Dave Lister couldn't sleep.
The worst thing was, it was becoming a regular occurrence. He was beginning to fall asleep at the breakfast table every morning, because it was turning out to be the only place he could actually get any peace. Kryten was starting to have to efficiently snatch the bowl of chicken Vindaloo away before Lister's head would inevitably slump forwards in his slumber. He'd started serving a pillow for breakfast – and the strangest thing was, Lister didn't even seem to notice.
The reason for this lack of sleep wasn't the stress of being the last human alive. It wasn't the fact that the earth that they were heading back to would have probably been destroyed by the time they reached it. It wasn't even the fact that almost everyone he'd ever loved was dead.
It was the noises.
They'd started a few weeks ago – at first, Lister hadn't even noticed. They'd only become apparent when he'd started tossing and turning in his bunk – obviously disturbed on a subconscious level before the rest of his brain caught up. He'd tried everything – he'd tried dragging the pillow over his head, he'd checked the pipes around the sleeping quarters to find nothing out of the ordinary, he'd plugged his ears with cotton wool. He could still hear it. Something between a sob, a humorless laugh and a snort. At first he'd thought Rimmer might be sneaking drugs onboard – he'd even tried searching his drawers when he was gone – but then again, he reasoned, what would a hologram want with drugs anyway? Especially Rimmer – a meticulous follower of rules. He'd given up the fruitless search when he'd emptied the entire contents of Rimmer's cabinet onto the floor and found nothing but old revision notebooks and love letters addressed to the inflatable doll he kept under the bunk.
Kryten had suggested that Lister move to a different room, but he'd been too exhausted to shift all his stuff over, and besides, his own room was perfect, where he'd been ever since he arrived on Red Dwarf. The shower ran at just the right temperature. The window had exactly the right view – the clarity of the countless stars and planetoids wasn't obscured by any parts of the ship jutting out in the way. The food hatch was right around the corner. Even his bunk – which had been such a relief after spending so many nights in a cramped luggage locker – was comfortable enough that in the noise's absence, sleep wasn't interrupted by a squeaky ladder rung or a spring digging into his back. No, he was going to stay right where he was.
And tonight, he would find the source of the noise.
XXX
It was seven o' clock when Lister decided he would turn in early to get a head start on figuring out exactly what was getting to him at night. He was annoyed that he hadn't come up with the idea before – it was perfect, he'd get there before Rimmer did so that he could either prove that it was he who was making the noise – maybe to purposely take the smeg – or otherwise eliminate the possibility.
He made his excuses to the others and left the table where he and the Cat had been drinking, and where Kryten had been dusting around and fussing with the remnants of dinner. Rimmer had been absent for this particular meal – he'd gone to one of the observation decks to 'look at the stars', apparently. Lister had hardly noticed, and hardly conversed with anyone while he picked at his curry and thought about his plan. He put it down to lack of sleep that he had only just that morning thought of a plan that would get him out of this mess once and for all – once he'd located the noise, he could put a stop to it. It was as simple as that. A faulty pipe – he could deal with it. An intruder – likewise. Aliens – as Rimmer would probably theorize – might take a little longer, but he'd get a good night's sleep if it was the last thing he ever did.
Lister actually found himself humming as he strolled down the corridor to the sleeping quarters. It felt good, knowing that the ordeal would soon be over.
"Lights!" he ordered, and the lights flashed on, revealing an empty and silent room. He changed into a pair of pyjamas that had only been worn for a month and a half, brushed his teeth, and climbed up into his bunk before ordering the lights off again. He settled back onto the mattress and plumped the pillow up a little behind his head, fully prepared for the noise to start up as soon as he closed his eyes. One more small, contended sigh, and Lister did so.
Nothing.
The silence was blissful. Lister reveled in it for a few minutes before the implications of the silence settled in – this meant that either the sound had stopped for good, or that his bunkmate was causing it.
Lister decided to stay awake until Rimmer came to bed – which proved to be a ridiculously difficult task. Lister found his eyes drifting shut every time he moved to sit up in bed. In the end, he turned the lights back on and attempted to watch a movie until he literally could not stay awake a second longer. He figured he would wake up once the noise began anyway, and reluctantly ordered both the vidscreen and the lights off again, and fell into a deep sleep with his head at the wrong side of the bed.
XXX
It was three perfect hours of peaceful, uninterrupted slumber before the sound started. As predicted, Lister was awoken almost immediately, and sat bolt upright in bed, blinking sleep from his eyes and pushing his sweaty hair out of his face.
"Rimmer?" Lister hissed, peering down in the darkness at his bunkmate, who was just a lump under the duvet on the bottom bunk. No reply. As quietly as he could muster, Lister lowered himself down the ladder, urging his footsteps to be silent as he tiptoed across the room to crouch beside Rimmer's bunk. The sound grew louder as he did so – it did seem to be coming from his friend's bed. Lister frowned, slowly and carefully peeling back the blanket to reveal Rimmer's pale form. He was almost tempted to turn on the lights, either to get a better look or to simply wake him, but that was before he realized.
Rimmer was crying.