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WHO: ~~Charlie and the Science Bitch.~~ I mean, Newt and Hermann.
WHERE: Hermann's apartment
WHEN: somewhere around June 12, after Newt's anon post and his comments on Blue's post.
WHAT: Newt was pretty obvious in his discussion about power suppressors. Hermann confronts him about it later.
WARNINGS: SPOILERS for Pacific Rim: Uprising

This month was, to put it mildly: extrodinarily complicated.

June was the month of Newt and Hermann's engagement anniversary, and of Hermann's birthday. It was wrapped up in memories of Joaquin, whose darker choices were now something that Newt related to on a more intimate level. It was bundled up with memories of friends now gone--of Kang, who should be here, who Newt really wanted to talk to because he had always been a stable, solid voice of reason--

They had found control over Newt slipping this month, but that wasn't necessarily a problem.

Of course, the pursuit of a power suppressor--a whim that had hit Newt upon seeing mention of it in a contest advertisment, a whim that had stayed with him long enough to make a post hidden behind anonymous filters--could potentially have been a problem. It wasn't, though, because Newt wouldn't get his hands on one of the devices. No one currently appeared to be offering one. And even if he did, They wouldn't allow him to activate it.

But that little allowance had enabled Newt to make a minor connection with Blue, and with that connection, perhaps chase an opportunity to use her power to enhance Newt's connection with Alice.

It might, of course, pan out to nothing. But it could, and that was what They enjoyed about letting Newt think he was in the driver's seat. He sometimes stumbled on some unexpectedly useful information. More flies with honey than vinegar, They supposed, not that Newt would have ever otherwise been considered sweet. Plus, these little excursions as Newt let Gottlieb think he was gaining ground, let him get his hopes up higher only to be crushed a second later, and it let Them better see how to pretend to be Newt.

Because here, unlike back in Newton's own world, They weren't poised to set off their Master Plan. So if they were going to be in this for the long haul, They might have to eventually have complete continuous control, and that might mean being somewhat effective at pretending to be Newt.

It was Newt who dropped his tie on the couch armrest and kicked off his shoes, buzzed with excitement and too many energy drinks, tongue tied up by limitations he could only begin to fathom.

Oblivious to the Precursors's plans, he was hopeful that somehow he was on the path to a solution, even if he knew he couldn't exactly tell Hermann. This was the best he'd felt in months.

"Hey. How's it going in math land?"

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He looked and sounded like his husband, and so had the network post. Hermann was hopeful it meant Newton was growing stronger, and that he was making progress in helping him just being there for him.

Still he was nervous, and approached with a cautious smile.

"Well enough. ..How are you?"

"Okay! Okay," he awkwardly tried to close the distance and figure out his arms for a minute, looking a bit like he'd never tried to hug Hermann in his entire goddamn life, and then managed a basic and brief, unsure hug around his husband's chest.

"Murder any students yet?"

It was less funny with a genocidal alien hivemind in Newton's brain, but he brushed it off.

"No. Though many are happy not to see me again. Some of course, will still need more lessons through the summer if they hope to qualify for their fall programs."

It was a bit upsetting to think there was no one ever happy to see him lately. But that wasn't important at the moment.

Newton had initiated a hug of his own volition, and that was all he needed. Hermann leaned into it and sighed.

"I love you, Newton," he said as he always did, but now especially, knowing Newton could hear him.

Newt offered a small, hesitant smile, unable to return the sentiment even though, deep in his mind, he knew he DID love Hermann and HAD said so before. It just didn't always feel that way. Loving Hermann was foreign, distant, far away like watching a movie. He'd spent almost a decade thinking they hated each other, convinced their friendship fell apart because it'd never existed. Newt did NOT want that for the relationship that they'd forged in their time here before, but he already knew it was happening, wearing down when he wasn't watching, sometimes even actively in front of him. There was so much of their shared past that was muddled and filtered already in his mind, and that was only what he knew to be altered.

He straightened Hermann's collar, using any excuse to keep his fidgeting hands on his partner. It was grounding, as much as that was worth these days. "So you keep telling me."

And yes, it hurt that Newton couldn't return it sometimes. But worse, that it felt like he wasn't getting through. He feared Newton thought of his love like an abstract concept and not the source of his very prominent heartache on any given day.

He touched his cheek, his jaw, and wished he had the strength to keep up a smile. Wished this could last.

"Newton..," he said, soft and hushed with the air of a confession. "I saw you entered the haiku contest..?"

Edited 2018-06-13 06:33 (UTC)

"Oh!" he was suddenly struck with embarrassment for reasons he couldn't explain and looked away, shuffling a bit and burying his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, I mean, I did. I guess. It was dumb. I just figured, well, why the hell not, right? ...It's stupid."

"It wasn't," he assured, though it was nothing approaching meaningful to anyone else. "You'll have your chance when this is sorted out. ..I did wonder however, if you were at all interested in the prize offered?"

Yes! his brain screamed, though that dimmed like a boat drifting to the horizon, passing steadily out of view. It was almost as if that flurry of messages hadn't actually happened, was a fleeting burst of desire that, now, away from the experienced, was cooling to lukewarm indifference. A slogging feeling that reminded him of depression, that inability to muster joy for his usual passions.

He shrugged, unable to offer more interest, and stepped away from Hermann to check out his hair in the mirror. Newt ran a pocket comb through it and felt so many levels of surreal disengagement from his own body. "Not really. I hadn't even noticed there was one."

"Oh all right," he said, swallowing as his fingers dipped into his jacket pocket. He watched Newton, nerves suddenly in a fever pitch just as they were when he'd started that ruse in the elevator.

Hermann eyed Newton and took a moment to mentally apologize. Then he struck.

He dropped his cane and grabbed Newton's arm, then slapped the power suppressor over his wrist and closed it with a metallic click.

"How terribly.. predictable."

Newt was too shocked to pull his arm away until it was too late. And maybe, maybe (he'd try to tell himself someday) he'd resisted pulling away just a little.

"You son of a bitch!" his voice pitched higher as he stumbled back, shaking Hermann loose, stunned by the bold act. There was a trickle of blood starting to bead at the end of one nostril and he didn't bother to wipe it away, glaring between the bracelet cuffed to his wrist and his betrayer.

Newt--no, not Newt--barked out a laugh and shook his wrist, jingling the bracelet like it was an inconsequential joke.

"Sneaky bastard, Gottlieb. How long have you had that up your sleeve, huh? Didn't think you had it in you, you feeble, spineless crackpot!"

Hermann stared, and the words struck home despite his best efforts to ward them off like he had so many others. He hated that this was starting to get to him, that he might not be strong enough to endure it.

He bent down and picked up his cane, hands still shaking from the adrenaline rush.

"..I wanted to talk to Newton about it, rationally. When I saw he was interested in trying.. but you couldn't let him, so I had to."

Edited 2018-06-13 07:25 (UTC)

They screwed on a wicked smile that was part snarl and grimace and all cruel.

"Newt doesn't know what he wants. We can assure you, though, he doesn't want you, or this," a wide, arrogant gesture took in the room and the whole apartment. "He's outgrown your little playdates to the coffee shop and your ridiculous notion of settling down. He loved his lifestyle. A new girl every night, booze for days, jetsetting across the world. Why would he ever settle for you unless he thought he had to, you know, settle. But now he knows. He can do better, Gottlieb, so take a step back and--and--"

He looked ill, suddenly taken aback and pained by something in his head, reaching up to finally wipe his nose of the blood that had begun to dribble earnestly down his lip. It was red.

When a pleased, giddy grin blossomed over his face, his teeth were stained with his blood.

Hermann leaned heavily on his cane, increasingly dismayed as every poisonous word told him the bracelet was ineffective. He wanted to crawl into bed and not get back up.

When the blood shifted colors and Newton finally burst through, he could only sigh- too exhausted to manage joy.

"I was hoping they'd shut up."

"Yeah, me too-- I need to sit down," Newt said, the grin quickly fading into the panicked look of someone afraid they were going to soon throw up or faint or both. He reached unsteadily for Hermann's arm as he wobbled towards the couch to faceplant into the cushions. They clawed at the back of his mind, certainly not gone, maybe not even diminished, but that urge to return to his other apartment and see Alice had withdrawn so suddenly that his head was still spinning.

Hermann offered his support to the couch, then slowly knelt down beside him and rubbed his back.

"Are you all right?"

Edited 2018-06-14 05:39 (UTC)

"I'm sick," he moaned into a throw pillow, eyes squeezed tight against a spinning world. Hermann's hand needed to keep doing That; focusing on the touch was keeping his mind from reeling. "I feel like I'm six degrees of hung over. Is this what withdrawal feels like? I think I'm withdrawaling? withdrawing? whatever. I think I'm going through that. Why did you do that to us--to me, you bastard?" It lacked venom, though, his thoughts and identity somewhat confused inside his own head.

"..I thought it might help," he offered, still a bit guilty. "I'm sorry if it made you sick."

He wanted desperately to ask what Newton felt withdrawals from. The hivemind itself, or the mysterious battery object? But if the cognitive dissonance was already this bad, it would need to wait.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Hermann, dude, babe, don't be sorry." He rolled over after a moment and reached for his husband's hand, giving it a squeeze, then rubbing his thumb over the inside of Hermann's wrist along his pulse point. He had such nice hands, with long fingers and knobby knuckles and wrists. Newt loved those hands. How had he forgotten those many nights he had sat in awe, watching Hermann's handwriting dash out the formula for humanity's impending doom? How could he forget that those hands once scrawled out letters to raise him up and drive him onward into the war? That they had touched him, here, with such care and passion and desperation and--

Newt needed to get him a new ring. Hermann's hand looked a little bare. He hadn't really noticed before now. "Was sick either way. I'd rather be sick because you tried to help me."

His heart fluttered a bit, latching onto the endearment more than even the contact itself.

"Did it work?" He asked, despite the evidence in front of him. But as ever, there was still the worry that it was fleeting. "You seem more yourself, at least."

He shook his head. "They aren't a power, Hermann. They're legitimately in my head, and THIS isn't going to shake them out. This just--" A shrug. He wasn't even sure at this moment what Hermann had achieved, if anything, really. "For now it makes being me easier, until they figure out a workaround."

It was so easy to get pulled into the opportunity for sentiment, in a renewed chance at affection, and he wondered if maybe They hoped that he would get lost until They could drive their way back to the surface. Oh LIKE HELL he'd let that happen.

He tried to sit up and ended up leaning on an elbow, feeling nauseous. "Look, look. I need to tell you something, something important, and I don't know, I really don't know if I'm going to be able to tell you, but you need to know--you need to know they aren't a Power, but there's a reason why this worked."

Hermann stared, feeling like he was on the verge of something. Reason the power suppressor worked, although the hivemind wasn't a power. An item- battery of sorts that was Newton's power.

"They're powered by it," he breathed, eyes lighting up, grinning suddenly as the realization broke over him and very nearly giddy with it. "Oh god Newton, tell me where to find it."

Edited 2018-06-14 06:57 (UTC)

"God, you're so smart," he breathed in a rush, overcome by a joy he hadn't felt in a very long time, something that was distinctly HIM, faulty and scratchy and weird, but all him, all the usual uncertainty and none of the unshakable wrongness that had been his life for the past few years. It was like Victory Day all over again, Hermann's eyes that brilliant glow of eureka and understanding that Newt had loved and hated in the lab.

Words would fail him if he tried to explain where Alice was being kept, and maybe part of him didn't want Hermann to find her--she was, after all, as much a part of him now as Hermann was...right?... They might even try to take control again if he forced the matter, so before he could lose this moment, he grabbed Hermann by the collar and pulled him down for what was supposed to be a passionate kiss...and ended up being more a bumping of noses as he fell back against the couch.

I bet the Precursors could have executed that move with a little more finesse, something cruelly taunted.

He smiled and drew Newton back in for the kiss he seemed to be after. It wasn't an answer, but he'd never tire of being able to kiss Newton or share affection.

"I'll find it," he promised against his lips, undeterred. "Even if you can't tell me."

He missed affection. He missed recognizing and appreciating the affection Hermann showed him. It felt suffocating now, but he still wanted it. They didn't, but he did and that was a victory and he wouldn't let them drown it out of him again.

"Just," he whispered, clinging to Hermann's shirt, his lips brushing Hermann's with each word. I can't lose you. Don't get yourself in too deep. "Just don't get lost chasing rabbits."

He kissed him again and wrapped his arms around Newton's shoulders.

"Hm, do you think if we drifted..? Once we got rid of their power source."

YES, you Nerd -- god, he is always a step behind us, isn't he? Late to the party, why do we bother with this old fool? -- that is EXACTLY what I think we should do.

Except. Not, maybe. Because I don't want to endanger you. Drifts go both ways...or all ways. I'm not even sure my desire to Drift with you is entirely my own desire, or if they maybe are hoping to have a second chance at your delicious brain.

Or maybe this second-guessing isn't mine; maybe it's Theirs in an attempt to get me to talk you out of Drifting with me and ruining their control...

"I think you should be careful. Fortune doesn't always favor the bold, okay?"

He drew back to look at him properly and brushed his fingers through his hair.

"I may be bolder after Drifting with you, but I wouldn't call it recklessness. I'll be careful in as much as I can," he promised. "First, I need to find this battery of theirs and either neutralize or dispose of it."

"Alright," he said, pushing Hermann back a bit more, hand on Hermann's shoulder near his collar. "Alright. Listen. Let me stop you there. No, you do not need to go looking because that's how people, namely you, are going to get hurt, and I kind of can't live with myself if you get hurt, alright, so." His thumb brushed over Hermann's throat as he spoke, dipping into the jugular notch with curious contemplation. He could push down there, apply pressure to the man's windpipe...it would be simple, easy... He could... He pulled his hand away, frightened by his own thoughts.

"So, you need to stop talking," he said, looking down at Hermann's chest, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't want to know what you're thinking even if I think I know."

Dangerous, his mind supplied, but oh, how he wanted to trust Newton. He couldn't, of course. And now his husband was withdrawing.

They must be getting closer.

He reached for Newton's hand and held it. He couldn't promise not to go looking, and he couldn't express anything about how he would go about finding it. He stared at his husband's wrist.

"...Were you happier living as a rockstar?"

That wasn't the question. The question was Were you happier living without me? and the answer would always be--no matter where in their personal timelines he was living out of--a resounding: Hell No.

"I thought I was, at the time. I wanted to be. They wanted me to think I was, but mostly I was just ...lonely, all things considered."

He shook his head, then licked his lower lip, biting it gently between his teeth.

"Hermann, I wouldn't trade life with you for the world. Don't let them convince you otherwise. I don't know what happened, how they got me to leave you, but if I spent the rest of my life uncredited and unacknowledged? ... with you as my only companion...?" A fond smile tugged at his lips, unrestrained and a little misty-eyed. Newt shrugged, as if to play the sentiment off nonchalant.

His lips trembled and he wondered how he could ever have doubted his beloved husband. Newton loved him, and it was just the Precursors that kept him from expressing that love, that made up lies and actively worked to wear away at their relationship.

"Newton.. I'll always come back to you, even if it's just to insult your research." Which admittedly, was difficult to do anymore, given his own interest in xenobiology, but he was sure there was something. "I thought you left because you wanted more than I could offer you, but as soon as I find out that isn't the case, I will fight for you. I am so terribly sorry I didn't see it before."

"You...nerd," he muttered because he couldn't come up with any way to properly express the true sentiment he hoped to reach. He touched Hermann's cheek again, carefully, with as much focus as he could to keep his hand from straying, fingers drifting over his lips. "Don't you dare cry. We were both deceived, dude."

He nodded, swallowing down the feeling in his throat.

"We keep losing time," he said, looking over Newton's still-young face, but able to spot all the differences from ten and twenty years ago. "I can't let them steal any more from us."

He traced over the lines around Hermann's downturned mouth, the wrinkles across his cheeks from the corner of his eyes. He was beautiful, but so much older. Newt wondered if he too had aged this much and, logically, knew he had. But where had that time gone, lost in pieces along the way?
Would he and Hermann ever be able to reclaim it in a world where they didn't have the advantage of memories of marriage and a life shared together intimately and lovingly?

Or would they grow older and drift further apart, even if the world didn't end? He couldn't live without Hermann, not without being consumed by Them entirely; he was too tired, too worn down, too tired of fighting.

"Well, you know what they say," he offered, voice still soft even as something dimmed in his eyes. "If you can't beat them, join them."

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