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Newton lies in his bed, in the dark. He's wide awake in spite of the jet-lag, and hasn't even bothered taking his glasses off. It's his first night in the Hong Kong Shatterdome, and there was an attack on the other side of the world that very day.
He feels terrified. Antsy. He wishes he could do more, faster, to help solve this whole mess. His stomach hurts, and he realises he has had his teeth clenched for a while after they start hurting and a headache blooms in his skull.
He grabs his cell phone and opens the conversation folder he has with Hermann, already quite lengthy despite having started it just a couple weeks ago, when they both knew in which base they'd be affected, and starts typing fast.
"U awake?"
He stares at the phone for a few seconds before it vibrates and a new message appears on the screen.
"Why are you texting me? You literally live next door."
He puts his cell phone on his nightstand before hurrying to Hermann's door. Weird, he thinks, how after years of completely ignoring each other, and kinda hating each other too, they can still understand each other unequivocally. Weird how easily they fell back into a sort of routine through texts instead of letters. Weird, to Newton, how comforting it was to have Hermann with him now. How comforting the news of them working together had been.
He knocks softly, trying not to be noisy for the neighbours. Hermann opens instantly, in his pyjamas. They look soft, the kind of softness clothes can only have when you've been wearing them for years. He has his reading glasses on and Newton can see a book laid face down on Hermann's bed from the door.
"I didn't want to wake you up, man."
"You wouldn't have Newton, I cannot sleep either. You may come in."
Newton sits on the chair of Hermann's desk and looks at the man going for the electric kettle on the other side of the room. He notices that the room is already pretty well organised, Hermann's stuff unboxed and ready to use. He can't even see the cardboard boxes anywhere. Newton smiles to himself. He'll really need to unpack quickly if he wants to repay Hermann and invite him over for pizza or something soon.
"So," Newt begins tentatively. "Been up to anything fun lately?" He winces immediately. What kind of stupid question is that? For one, Hermann is never up for anything fun. Plus, having an alien apocalypse on the hands which makes you too busy working to even have three proper meals a day doesn't really entail to doing anything fun. He doesn't see Hermann roll his eyes and smirk, more amused than upset.
"Apart from texting you, no, not exactly." Hermann fiddles with the two mugs he's prepared while the water heats up, so in turn, he doesn't see Newton smile. But he can absolutely hear the smile in his voice when Newt speaks again.
"I'm super relieved we've been stationed together, dude. I know it's probably weird, but I really am."
"As weird as it is, I must admit I feel the same way," Hermann confesses amicably as he hands Newton one of the mugs and sits on his bed. "It's Hojicha, I hope it's all right."
"It's perfect," Newt reassures him with a smile. Hojicha is definitely something Newton could imagine Hermann being fond of. "I can't even remember last time I had tea, to be honest."
"Still drinking too much coffee, then," Hermann teases.
"Eh, you know I never knew what too much meant, Hermann," he replies. His smile is softer now, and Hermann notices how dark the circles under his eyes are despite his oversized glasses. He does look tired, and his right leg is bouncing up and down like crazy. "This attack really hit me hard, for some reason. Like, it was fucking terrifying. I heard the report over the radio, live. I can't get the screams out of my head."
He's in an oversized t-shirt, with a weird sort of big butterfly on it that Hermann doesn't recognise, and there are Japanese characters on the side he can't decipher. Probably one of the creatures from Newton's inane Toho movies. His arms are bare, covered in bright colours. Newton didn't have these tattoos when they met a few years ago.
"You know," Hermann starts, "I didn't think you'd be scared of them, considering how much you love them," he tells Newton, pointing at his tattoos. Hermann is lying. Newton has already confessed to his anguish in their letters. He knows Newton is afraid of the whole ordeal, he's seen his face during newscasts, when he'd been interviewed on his research, and it wasn't from being on camera. Hermann knows Newton loves that kind of attention. But Hermann also knows Newt's obsession with the Kaiju is mostly due to his need to understand them. Not just to defeat them, but because things are less scary to him when he can wrap his head around them.
Newton just looks at him for a few seconds, lips twisting in displeasure, scowling.
"I'm sorry, Newton. That was rather petty. I guess I need to work a bit better on that whole "getting along" thing," Hermann says, and his voice is low and full of honesty. "But I still cannot wrap my head around why you would want the world to perceive you as a fan of these creatures."
"I guess… I don’t want the world to see me, I don’t want the world to know me. I just want it to see an image, the image of something big and scary, I don’t want the world to be able to get under my skin and scar me more than it already did. I know it's dumb, and they don't change anything in the end, but they make me feel safe. Er. Safer," Newton admits with a thin voice, looking intently at his forearms. Hermann awkwardly places a gentle hand on Newton's shoulder.
"Well, I see you," he says tentatively, and Newt gives him a sad little smile, but he knows Hermann does, and that he always did.