Disclaimer: OK, I'm sick of writing these so I'm just going to do one and it will last the entire fanfic, OK? I DO NOT OWN RED DWARF OR ANY OF IT'S CHARACTERS.

Author's note: I know this is kinda soon after finishing the last one, but I'm excited. I prefer writing in this format, more like 'Nicole' - do you know how hard it is to write "Currylover169: logoff" over and over again??? Anyway, this is set twelve years after 'Changes' please R&R and enjoy!

Nicole looked up at Rimmer. He sat delicately at the side of their bed and put her soup down on the side cabinet. He gently swept his hand across her forehead--it was burning hot. Even though Nikki was the ill one, Rimmer believed he felt more wretched than she did. It tore at his heart to see her looking so weak and defenseless. Her face was as pale as a ghost and the dark rings around her eyes looked heavy. As he slipped his hand down into hers he was shocked by the stark contrast of temperatures between her boiling hot cheeks and freezing cold fingers. He knew it was a stupid question but there really wasn't anything else he could say.
"Are you feeling alright?" As soon as the words came out of his mouth he regretted it. Of course she wasn't feeling alright, he could tell just by a glance. She, however, just nodded slowly. Rimmer couldn't help but give a tiny laugh. She was practically on death's door and still she was trying to protect his feelings by making out things were OK. It was times like this Rimmer loved. Well, obviously not exactly like this, he didn't love that his wife, his favourite person in the entire universe, was harbouring an all-consuming disease which Kryten, despite all his confidence and reassurance, had still not found a cure for. No, it wasn't that he loved. It was being with her, being there to comfort her. It took him back to the first few weeks of their relationship, when he had savoured every moment of being with her, because he never knew if she would turn and stay with Lister. He had been overjoyed when she had said 'I love you' to him for the first time. Now she couldn't speak at all.
The disease, what ever it was, had reached her throat and her vocal chords; her throat started to swell and her vocal chords were disrupted; she was rendered speechless. She, Rimmer and everyone else aboard the ship knew full well that time was running out to find an antidote for the virus - if the swelling became too great, she would lose her oxygen supply - but nobody dared voice it. She was being sick almost every hour, her arms were covered with a purple rash, her hair was starting to fall out, and, perhaps most importantly, she had lost the use of her legs. Possibly permanently. Every time Rimmer went to visit her he promised himself he wouldn't cry.
He looked at the two rings - wedding and engagement - sitting desolately on the bedside cabinet. As her hands had started to swell, she had had to take off any jewelry. She had begged to keep the rings on, but Kryten and Rimmer both persuaded her to remove them; if her finger had swollen any more, the rings would have cut off the blood supply, and may have even caused gangrene.
Rimmer blinked back a tear and smiled weakly at her, "Kryten says he's nearly found the antidote," he lied, "You'll be better in no time."