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As Hermann applied the conductive gel for the EEG, he wondered how they’d gotten here, so far off course from the plans he’d meticulously drew up in his head. Newt was such an unpredictable spontaneous man, leading Hermann on ventures outside of his comfort. Often Hermann had no choice but to follow out of love and concern, but this rabbit hole he’d fallen through would be yet another for the history books. Quite literally, in this case.
But like always, as with every road bump in their lives no matter how minute or astronomical, they survived. This time they were much more broken, and in need of careful mending, but by God the Earth was still here, as were they. Newt’s brain would need the most work in their recovery process. The Precursors, through unknown means, rewired him as they’d dug their disgusting metaphorical hands into things, burrowing in like a cordyceps parasite.
For the past few months Hermann had been watching an abstract picture of Newt’s mind on his monitor, studying it, knowing it intimately as if it were his own crafted breach models. The PPDC had granted him the resources to use his theoretical therapies to try to… hack out the mess that the Precursors had left. In return he’d report his findings, seeking a better fix for drift-caused brain conditions, like the ones burdening the veteran pilots such problems at too early an age.
Through algorithms and drift programming he tried to remap Newton’s brain, as well as utilizing electronic waves, biofeedback, and every scrap of knowledge Hermann had gathered over his many years wearing many hats. It was lucky he was a ‘genius’, so to speak, as love would not be all it took to fix things this time around.
“Sometimes I feel god awful doing this to you,” Hermann said as he moved the sensor in a circular motion to make sure it adhered.
“Giving me an amazing head massage?” Newt replied.
He’d heard that one before but still cracked a bit of a smile despite his forlorn mood. “Convincing the PPDC you are an asset in this way.”
“What, why? I’m not in prison, so...”
“Yes, but, I don't want you to spend the rest of your life as a government guinea pig. At least in prison no one is running tests on you.”
“Well, it's a miracle I'm even here, dude. I... I don't mind. And hey, if I'm gonna get prodded and played with by some quack I'm glad it's you,” he said, as his eyes darted to the ID badge, “Hermann.” Newt winked.
He smiled again, it smarting just a tinge that some days the badge was the one thing keeping his name in his boyfriend’s mouth. But at least the attraction never seemed to fade.
“When you forget my name, do you still know who I am?” Hermann asked softly.
“Sometimes. Most times. But when I don’t, I always think: ‘wow this guy is cute, I wonder if he's single.’”
He cleaned away some of the excess gel from the final sensor. “Even if that’s entirely false, I cannot say it doesn’t make me feel good.”
Hermann had his hangups, believing his very meticulous stylings in the workplace brought him professionalism, but sacrificed any drip of attractiveness he may possess. Deep down he just wanted to feel handsome... and his beau was staring him down with such a glint in his eyes. Professionalism, he reminded himself.
He cleared his throat. “So. I am going to show you a series of images and--”
“I want you to say the first thing that comes to mind,” Newt mimicked in an accent.
“And?”
Back to his regular voice: “And you want me to tell you if I see any repeated images from a previous session.”
“Very good.”
The sessions could be a bit unpredictable. Newton had been progressing well, on most occasions his recollection was foggy but not so amnesiatic as before. Though he had his off days where the building frustration caused Hermann to cut their test short, before the memory-addled man had some sort of breakdown. The only thing Hermann could usually expect was at least one eyerollingly banal act of flirtation.
“Are you ready, Newton?”
“Ready when you are, hot stuff,” Newt said casually.
“Settle down. You’ll ruin my base reading with your mucking about,” Hermann sighed to voice his disapproval but Newt could not see the smile on his face. “Now take a deep breath and center yourself, I’m not starting until I can get a clean read.”
“Fine.”
Hermann had learned to guide him through the meditation technique, because on Newt’s worse days he’d forget about the breathing exercises while in the midst of them and start up on another tangent.
When Hermann was properly satisfied with the readings on his screen he switched to the first image on his holo-projector.
First off, the great green lawn of Killian Court, looking on to Building 10 of the MIT campus.
“Uh... I dunno. Looks really familiar but I dunno. A capitol building. Or… a college? A repeat, I guess.”
Failure on both counts. Hermann clicked to the next slide. A catalog photo of a rolling desk chair.
“Chair. Your chair. Repeat. Used to push you around on that and it pissed you off.”
Indeed. Success.
An action blurred video screencap of a Kaiju.
“Ha. New. Yamarashi. My first color tattoo. Hurt like hell. Pick a harder one next time.”
Hermann smirked. Another success.
A picture of Jules Reyes’ childhood pet, a blue heeler.
“A dog. I… I don’t recognize it. I always wanted a Shepherd dog, but dad said I wasn’t disciplined enough to train it.”
Success. And Newton’s father was correct.
A promotional photo of the Seattle Shatterdome.
“Oh, uhhhhh… not Anchorage, so I’m gonna say Seattle. I still think it’d be cool for us to move there someday. I’m missing the states hardcore. My cousin lives in Portland -- well… she did last time I talked to her but it’s--”
Hermann cut him short, fearing a down spiral. “Repeat or new?”
“Uh… New.”
Success. Seattle did sound nice, the mountains nearby reminding him of home in Bavaria, though Hermann had been held up in Asia for almost twenty years now. And he was a man of habit.
Next, a photo of an older man in bifocals, holding up a keytar.
"Ah, aww. That's my dad," Newt said happily. “Repeat.”
"And what's his name?"
"His name is... It's uh... Joe -- uh no... James? No."
"Take your time."
"Er... Jacob! His name is Jacob." Newt sighed. "Shit. Ugh, sorry daddy," he said quietly.
Success. Though, it broke Hermann’s heart a little to hear the pain in Newt’s voice.
"I know I'm not supposed to give you this kind of feedback... but you recognized him faster than last time."
“Thanks, bud, I appreciate it,” Newt replied softly.
This next one was… important. For Hermann’s own personal reasons. A figure, too dark to see clearly, lounged in an adirondack chair in the shade to the right. They were pointing out at a white sand beach with blue crystal waters. Two natural rock towers loomed in the ocean, coated in brilliant green plantlife.
“Paradise,” Newt sighed. “Repeat.”
Hermann waited for another response, then with disappointment wrote ‘failure’ in the memory section. Still no memory trigger.
“Oh. Oh shit. Wait. Wait that's me, isn't it? Oh god, I remember this.” There was excitement in his voice, and Hermann perked up. “Th-Th-That island off the coast of Brazil… fuck, can’t remember the name… Anyway, uh. We all went down for the environmental summit. I had one too many that day because drinks were half-off for guest speakers and I made a joke about how we were both having ‘sex on the beach’... You kept telling me not to go near the water because there were a lot of sharp rocks, but I really wanted to go. We got in a fight because I was like super mad about it. And then I fell asleep on you.” He laughed.
Hermann laughed too, then scribbled out the previous note and replaced it with 'success'.
“That was like... It was like a honeymoon,” Newt said wistfully. “But... we weren't together. But... I felt just as happy as if we were.”
The past seemed so beautiful in hindsight. Bittersweet. Where would this road lead them? Was there a life outside of this facility? When would they be intimate again? Did marriage lie in their future?
Had their chances at a normal happy life slipped from their hands forever?
No.
No, of course not. They had regrets, and so much lost time, but they were alive, dammit, against all odds. And they were in love. Even if Newt couldn’t remember Hermann’s name.
A few more slides, with more middling results, but Newt remained focused and upbeat… and obnoxiously flirtatious.
“Hey, before we go... You know what would be fun?” Newt asked, twisting in his chair to face Hermann and resting his arm on the back as Hermann scribbled down his final notes.
“Hmm?”
“Since outside of our sessions we never really get any alone time...”
“Newton,” Hermann warned.
“What? You don't know what I'm gonna say.” He paused. “Unless I said it already, then whoops.”
“No, this is the first. Still, I know what you're not going to say -- but then again you're hard to predict as of late.”
“Anyway, perv, since I'm hooked up to this brain thingy... and you're a total nerd... you wanna see what kind of reading you get when we kiss?” He waved his finger in a ‘you, me’ gesture between them.
Hermann set down his notepad with a sigh. “Newton Geiszler, that's likely the most romantic thing that has ever come out of your stupid mouth.”
He rolled the desk chair over to Newton’s side. Newt gave him a sly smile, but there was a hint of desperation in his eyes. Contact was so… minimal, Hermann understood exactly what he was thinking. He decided to indulge his boyfriend, and himself, but still… professionalism. Hermann reached out, caressing the soft grey-speckled beard that was just starting to grow, from Newt’s cheek down to his chin, and gently pulled him into a kiss. Chaste. Slow. But with feeling. He was quite curious to see how the readings would differ, a peek into Newt’s mind in a sense. A mind he hadn’t experienced in so long.
Newt hummed happily into the kiss. Hermann pulled back to see his eyes shining, brows upturned as if wondering why they had to stop. He wondered why as well -- or rather how he was able to control himself when all he wanted to do was seize Newt into his arms and love him and hold him until someone pried them apart.
“That’s enough for this session,” Hermann said softly. “They do only allow us a set amount of time. And I still need to remove the sensors, all twenty-eight of them.”
“Alright, dude,” Newt said. Melancholy tinted his voice, though he smiled like he was trying his best to be strong for the both of them.
Newt rose up from the seat with a sigh.
“Carefully, dear, don’t get yourself tangled up again.”
“I know, won’t, I won’t.”
“Yes, well, your memory and all that…”
Newt offered his hand to Hermann, and then pulled him out of the desk chair. Hermann lost a bit of footing, and regained balance with a palm against Newt’s shoulder.
“You OK?” Newt asked.
“I’m fine.”
Their faces were close, Newt’s breath tickling his lips as he chuckled -- and Hermann decided right then and there that professionalism could rot for all he cared.
He took Newt’s face in his hands and pulled him back into a kiss. Newt squeaked, surprised by the intensity. Hermann smiled against Newt’s mouth before it faded into firm insistent pressure. His fingers ran down Newt’s neck, to his shoulders, and then played along his back. Newt threw his arms around Hermann, leaning into a kiss that stole away what little breath Newt had left. Newt grasped clumsily at Hermann’s cardigan before his other hand began weaving his fingers through his hair, and Hermann missed the days when Newt would soothe him by petting his freshly shorn undercut.
Newt made a strained noise and broke this kiss with a gasp. He wiped away tears that were resting on his cheeks.
“Newton,” Hermann whispered, brushing the rest away with his thumb.
“I, um… I’ve missed that,” Newt said with a laugh, before sniffling. “I forgot how good at that we were.” Hermann realized he wasn’t sad; he was relieved.
“Yes, well… you didn’t seem to forget how to do it.”
“We should end our sessions like this more often. You know…” He took a deep steadying breath before flashing a devious smile. “For science.”