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WHO: Hermann & Newt
WHERE: De Chima Local Jail
WHEN: April 26th
WHAT: Newt goes to pay a surprise visit to his recently arrested husband.
WARNINGS: None for now

As expected, it's been a difficult 48 hours. Questions, legal matters, medical tests, dates, and the most uncomfortable cot in existence. Not to mention difficulty in navigating his cell, bereft of his cane. So mostly he sits and tries to think of anything other than the fact Newton was gone.

An inevitable line of thought when calls go down the hall for visitation, though he tries valiantly to ignore it up until a guard calls his name through the bars. The officer has a cane in hand.

"Up, Gottlieb. You have a visitor."

Slowly, Hermann rises and limps his way toward the unlocking cell door. He accepts the temporary cane and allows himself to be led toward the visiting area, puzzled and not yet daring to hope. He's sat behind a glass partition and handcuffed to the desk while his eyes rove over the other visitors in the room. And then there's Newton- his beautiful, real, and entirely unharmed Newton- sitting across from him, and Hermann very nearly jumps from his chair.

"Newton!" Startled, he can only stare at his husband for several seconds. "How- when did you..?" Then his mind finally latches onto- "You were gone!"

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Newt is very nearly late for his appointment, having spent far too long trying to look NICE. It is like meeting Hermann all over again. Is his tie straight? Is his hair nice? Does he look like a welcome sight for a man going through hell?

It all goes out of mind once he's passed security inspection and been allowed into the visitation room. Reality and, with it, nerves set in. Hermann and the others will be here shortly, so Newt shuffles over to his designated window. He is aware of the other guests at their respective spots, but forgets their company when he sees Hermann.

Hermann, who has been processed and dressed like a common prisoner. Hermann, who hunches and is led about by guards and cuffed to his desk and STILL might as well be Cinderella at the ball for all the way he steals Newt's breath. He almost makes a fool of himself running into the glass because impulse directs him to try to hug the completely inaccessible man.

Instead, he picks up the phone that will connect their two sides, waves it cheekily to indicate Hermann should do the same, or be prepared to listen, and smiles with relief and joy and wonder at his husband.

"And you're lucky I came back when I did. Her water dish was nearly empty, Hermann. And who was going to feed her? Did you think about that? For being the man with a plan in this twosome, you overlooked some very important details." You gorgeous, brilliant, reckless son-of-a-bitch you.

Fumbling the phone in his hands, Hermann presses Newton's voice to his ear and holds it like something precious that could easily slip through his fingers.

"Yes, I... I was wondering who to call about that. I don't recall if Miles or one of our other friends have transportation out to our house.. How is she? When did you come back? It's been two weeks."

"I know it's been two weeks! It's not like I've been here and just, I don't know, kicking it with Kang for the past week! Two days, Hermann. I arrived back here two days ago," he insists a bit heatedly before hurriedly adding, "I came here as soon as they'd let me. I swear, I'd have contacted you sooner if I saw a way. And she's fine, Hermann. She misses you and Sophie and she doesn't care about me at all." He wants to run his fingers along the soft undercut, press a kiss along Hermann's temple, hold him as he falls asleep...

"Seriously, what were you thinking? You had to know they'd catch you. Did you want this?"

Oh, what awful timing. He swallows.

"Of course I didn't! But the Porter had taken you, I was caught in that god-awful Dream, my.. my data collection was halted, Miles lost his family, our home was empty, and I was very, very tired of being subject to the whims of this world. And with you gone.." There wasn't anyone left to stop him.

"..Well, it wasn't as if anyone else was going to miss me for a few months."

Newt recognizes the sentiment in his own drive to Drift with a Kaiju. If I succeed, yay. If I fail, who is going to miss me? It is suicidal thinking, even if not directly suicidal actions. He presses his left palm to the glass, wedding band gently clinking on the surface.

Newton, what have you done! replays in his mind.

There's so much to unpack from what Hermann has said--the Dream, Miles' family...

"You're an idiot. You know how much you risked? Your wellbeing? You have your health to consider, Hermann! And what if they decided to investigate into your..." An agitated gesture. The Drift, he meant. "Powers? You don't know what they're capable of. Or what they're willing to do!"

"Then they may as well ally themselves with the Soviet Union if they're going that far."

Newton was the one he'd been worried about, suffering at the hands of Russian scientists while they.. He averts his eyes.

"I know precisely what I risked, along with the price I was willing to pay. It's going to be unpleasant, but I will survive. ..I'm only sorry you'll be suffering for it as well."

Edited 2017-04-26 07:44 (UTC)

"Look at me, babe. Look at me. You'd better survive this. Hermann, I'm not hanging out here for my health, and if you think YOU got reckless when left to your own devices, just think about me, on my own, without you here to pick my sad carcass off the floor."

He tipped his head to try to catch and hold Hermann's gaze. "So you come back to me, okay? I came back to you, you come back to me...we can go around like this forever. It's just...what we do...find each other again and again. Don't worry about my suffering. As long as you're here, as long as both of us are, we can do this. ...I'm sorry you thought you had to go it alone, man. You don't have to. We got this. Above everything else we are, we're a team. We are the best team."

He met Newton's eyes, all deep-seated worry and concern. Cradling the phone between neck and shoulder, he reached out with cuffed hands to meet Newton's palm through the glass.

"Yes.. We are a team. If you promise to take care of yourself while I'm in here, I promise to return to you. You'd better not let me find your 'sad carcass' on the floor when I get out, or I'll be sleeping in the guest room for a week."

An empty threat in all likelihood.

"Oh please. I leave my messes on your side all the time. You'll just kick it out of the way or step over it."

It was hard to sound so sure when he was tearing up. He wanted to curl their fingers together, but the barrier prevented that simple, familiar touch that had integrated its way into their lives even before they had started dating. Who had known there'd come a day where they would have a line between them...and not want it.

"Any idea how long I'm going to have to manage without your supervision?"

Hermann's lips trembled. He couldn't feel the well of emotion stinging Newton's eyes this time, but he could very well sympathize with his husband's distress. What he wouldn't give just to hold his hand.

"I- I'm not sure. A few months, at most. Perhaps only a month or two, if I can manage it. I intend to be a well-behaved prisoner, so perhaps the rest of my sentence can be served on house arrest or something of the sort. We'll know by the end of the week."

Though now that Newton was here, he was less inclined to plead guilty as originally planned, but was there a possible way to lie his way out of his case? Or claim temporary insanity or some such. The Dream's effects had been widespread after all..

"House arrest would be nice. I mean, I won't argue against knowing you're home safe waiting for me when I get back from work. Kind of cute and domestic, minus the whole arrest part."

Newt leaned in, as if sitting closer to the glass was like leaning intimately across the dinner table.

"Once we know how long, we can make plans. That'll give you something to look forward to. Specific dinners, books you want to read, projects to complete. I know how much you like planning. So we can plan dates inside. Whatever you want, even if it's just falling asleep. We can make lemonade from lemons here. Okay?"

It was as much for himself as Hermann.

Adjusting the phone against his ear, Hermann managed a small smile. It was sweet of Newton to romanticize house arrest. Admittedly, it sounded like a dream from where he was now. Their quiet home away from the city, no neighbors to concern themselves with; a private and comfortable refuge.

A place that only hours ago he'd thought empty and lifeless.

"We'll place orders with nice local restaurants," he said, encouraged. "I'll send you out to collect our food and we'll have the table set nicely.. Candlelight and flowers, if it moves you."

Ten years of endless war. They could do two months and make the most of a potential house arrest, certainly. And if it gave Hermann hope...well, victories were made on hope. And they needed a victory here. Hermann was not allowed to be defeated.

"Candlelight and flowers definitely moves me. I'm going to give you a rockstar homecoming, okay--gonba spoil you rotten, you sexy badass bastard."

Hermann's sat straighter, eyes soft as he cradled the receiver against his ear.

"I love you, Newton. So long as you're there for it, I'm sure it will be wonderful."

But unfortunately, that wasn't a promise Newton could make, and until he cracked the Porter's pattern of behavior on such a level, he'd simply have to hope.

"It will be nearly summer by then. We could do with a private pool party as well."

He wouldn't promise to be there, though it was certainly his intent. He couldn't keep that promise.

Hermann's suggestion got a slow, daring grin and a wiggle of his brows. Newt shuffled even closer, turning to block out neighboring guests, a bit of a laugh in his voice as he toyed with the metal phone cord.

"How private?"

Now that was far too easy, but as ever, gratifying to immediately have Newton's fixed attention. He pressed his lips against a smile, though his eyes gave away much of his amusement.

"In view of no one else, ideally." Fortunate then that their backyard patio faced only a treeline. "I can promise your patience won't go unrewarded."

That smile felt like an extreme victory. God, it was good to see his eyes light up; it felt almost like Drifting, like floating, like sharing a secret. Hermann was gorgeous and wicked and no effort could hide that absolutely criminal smile.

It'd be cruel to give Hermann nothing to think about, alone in his bunk, during the night...right? After two weeks fearing that he would never see Newt again?

"It's YOUR patience that I think we need to reward."

"Really?" Hermann drawled, brows raised and looking Newton over rather pointedly.

A pity they couldn't do much in way of non-verbal communication. The Drift had always been useful for expressing such things in public settings.

"Well in either case, we've some weeks to plan. Something else to look forward to."

There, in that look, was his Hermann. As Hermann should be, not distressed and depressed at the loss of Newt and due to imprisionment.

"Plenty of time to decide how you want to be welcomed home, then. And in the meantime..." He dragged out the suspense cheekily, eying his husband. "...what would you say to some letters? I don't expect you to write back, but I mean, I bought a whole box of paper and a couple boxes of pens yesterday. I should probably at least attempt to use them up and I hear this place has an excellent correspondence system. Not that I won't visit, but...you know. For between visits."

Letters.

Hermann's stomach fluttered and his lips twitched into a soft, sentimental smile. Letters were how it all started for them; their gold standard of communication. Peppered by in-person visits, it was all he needed to know he'd survive this.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I'll write back, Newton. It's not as though I'll be busy. They'll give me something more immediate to look forward to than my release."

He'd treasure them as much if not more than those first few passionate exchanges years ago. Hermann rubbed a thumb over his wedding band.

"You may want to wait until I'm sentenced however, I may be moved to another facility."

"Okay. Don't expect me to be like a lovesick fool, though, and send you...I don't know. Locks of my hair or something equally Victorian. These are going to be cool letters. About science. And..."

Newt let out a loud sigh, air blowing through the mouthpiece on the phone. He pulled off his glasses and wiped his eyes.

"How did you do two weeks? I already miss talking to you and it's only been two days. I miss seeing your jacket hung up next to mine in the coat closet. I miss the sound of your typing. I never thought I'd be this kind of pathetic. I kind of hate you."

There was little he wouldn't give for the ability to reach through the glass and hold his husband. His fingertips pressed up against the window as though they could reach him through will alone.

"I'm still here, Newton. ..Think of it like a reassignment perhaps. Idiot engineers working on Striker require my expertise along with a thorough lecture on why they don't deserve their degrees. We exchange letters and video conferences for several weeks until I'm sent home again."

He gave a small, sad laugh. "There's a problem with that analogy. I didn't love you back then, and I barely even could admit to enjoying your company. When you left, I got to tell everyone how much better it was with you gone, and relive our penpal days a bit by sending you nasty emails about how my research was coming along so well."

Newt pressed his hand over Hermann's on the glass.

"There's no satisfaction in this like there was back then."

"I know," he said, unusually soft and sympathetic.

He wished it was as simple as pretending he was on reassignment, but prison life was more the sort of bootcamp the Jaeger Academy had been. And he'd survived that, but he'd been younger and in better physical shape then- not yet visibly disabled, though still lagging behind his peers.

"At least we'll have these visits. It's not only letters this time. We'll make it through this, Newton. I haven't left you."

"You can't leave me," Newt admitted with a sad smile, tapping his temple knowingly. "Not really."

He cleared his throat, trying to suppress the tears and emotion digging their way into his already scratchy voice.

"Besides. I wouldn't let you leave me. I would hunt you down, drag you back. I'd find the Porter and make it return you. Hell, maybe that's what happened." Excitement raised the volume of his voice until Newt, deciding this wasn't something he should shout across a room with criminals, their cohorts, and police around, cupped the mouthpiece and lowered his voice, sending Hermann a nervous, cautious set of glances through the glass.

"Maybe that's what happened," he repeated quietly. "Maybe your data collection scared them...scared the Porter. Maybe that's why I'm back, because without me, you were willing to take risks that put you too close to something, and with me... I'm an appeasement, a distraction. You got me back so that you'd be cautious again, and wouldn't care to look into how deep this rabbit hole goes. ...If it's true," he added with a slow, sly, conspiratorial grin, "they don't know us too well, do they?"

Edited 2017-05-10 06:52 (UTC)

Hermann's brows rose. "These calls are at least recorded if not actively monitored, Newton. Fascinating as your theory is however, it's hardly likely and would be rather egotistical to entertain."

Despite that disclaimer however, he was interested in discussing it more in-depth, and disagreeing with Newton was ever the first step in these conversations.

"You're also suggesting on some level that the government controls the Porter- or that its otherwise possessed. Nothing we can prove at this stage."

"I'm nothing if not a narcissist, babe. Also, my idea is a hypothesis more than a theory and is more food for thought than something I expect to feasibly resolve any time soon. But," he emphasized. "Based on LACKEY, yeah, I think it's likely that the thing is controlled by someone--government or otherwise--or is otherwise attached to someone or something with sentience."

One thing no numerical data relating to disappearance rates would tell them: what the imports knew or were doing before they vanished (or arrived, for that matter). Did Qubit learn something? Did an import outlive their usefulness? Were they here to serve a purpose as pawns? What caused them to vanish and was it simply a mathematical rate? ...or was it something with intent and purpose?

The discussion was a good way to feel normal again; debating Newton like he wasn't currently imprisoned.

"Well I suppose we don't know who built the Porter.. And all we know about LACKEY is that it was an AI built to take advantage of flawed technology in order to abduct imPorts. No attempts at inter-dimensional travel that we know of. Still, it would be worth studying if ever we had the opportunity to do so."

Not that they would by the looks of it. And if ever there was a choice between the two porters, LACKEY wouldn't take priority.

"Controlled or not, I am curious about what the numbers could say about its priorities- if there are any interesting correlations at work."

"Of course you're curious about the numbers." The eyeroll was more amused than anything, fond and teasing. "Are you ever not thinking of numbers? Damn. I swear, you do math about sex. You probably graph the interesting correlations between arguing with your lab partner and his subsequent willingness to blow you."

The derailment of topic came mainly because Newt was concerned that if they chatted up this theory too long, in such a public place, he'd reveal something that would endanger them further, or prevent them from being able to carry out their goals later.

Blindsided by the shift in topic, Hermann's head ducked down, both face and ears burning. If only this were a normal conversation, he'd have Newton on his knees and putting words to action. Something he decided they'd resolve once he returned home.

"..I did mention these calls were monitored? May not want to get too graphic. Another point: they're going to read any letters so don't go getting explicit there either or I may not receive it at all."

Or too forthcoming of anything else for that matter.

"Oh please, you know they all want to read my AWESOME Geiszlieb smutty fanfic."

He couldn't even feel bad when those gorgeous big ears were bright red. God. He wanted to pull Hermann close, murmur dirty nothings into the man's ear, threaten to carry through with those in public, and then steal him away to their bedroom to actually do those things in privacy.

Or just to hold him while debating the interesting correlations in Porter disappearances.

Whatever worked.

"And you know you want to discuss what your lab partner wants to do with your research." 'Research.' He managed to make the word suggestive.

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