Chapter Text
Hermann woke up in a cold sweat. He got up to rinse his face in cold water, flicked the bathroom light on and braced himself against the cold sink. His left eye was still bloodshot.
Four nights that he barely slept. Four nights of nightmarish visions that felt like memories of white lights, the impression he was floating for a while, chemical smells, and a searing pain at the small of his back that would wake him back to consciousness.
The night before that first nightmare, he had forgotten seven complete hours of his life. He remembered dozing off in front of his computer screen, then getting up from his cold, wet loan in the early morning hours. Nothing in between. No memory, no dream, nothing but a nosebleed, a terrible headache, and his bloodshot eye.
He had driven himself to the doctor as soon as the medical practice had opened.
“Have you ever sleepwalked?”
“No.”
“Well, it seems that you have now. You probably fell while sleep-walking, hence your minor injuries.“ She seemed hesitant, almost sheepish for a moment. “But I would like you to have some blood work done. I’d also advise seeing a neurologist as soon as possible to rule out anything that could be more concerning.”
Hermann squinted his eyes at the doctor.
“You seem unsure of the severity of my situation, doctor.”
“It’s just that you’re the third person to come in the last month with similar symptoms. When the second patient came in with them, I thought it was a simple coincidence. Now though… there might be something going around and I’d rather be safe than sorry if the population is at risk due to a virus or some type of poisoning.”
“Poisoning?”
“I’m sorry, doctor Gottlieb, I don’t mean to alarm you. I’ll have to ask you a few more questions though. Did you go out of the state, or the city?”
“No.”
The doctor scribbled on a notepad.
“Is there anyone you’ve met up with that showed unusual behaviour?”
“I don’t really meet up with anyone but my colleagues at work. But no.”
More scribbling.
“Are you sexually active?”
Hermann clenched his jaw and pursed his lips. The doctor looked up from her notes with a pointed look to entice Hermann to answer.
“No, and the last time I did was protected.”
“Excellent,” she mumbled noncommittally as she wrote down his answer.
“Can you think of anything out of the ordinary happening? Any activity you’ve tried, any food or drink tasting wrong, maybe?”
“I’m afraid not doctor, or I’d have told you.”
Hermann had left the practice, a blood panel order shoved in his breast pocket and driven himself directly to the university he worked at. The next school break wasn’t before a little over a month, he’d see if he felt like he needed a neurologist then. He sighed in annoyance as he got out of his car. Just what he needed with all the work piling up on him.
“Special agent Newton Geiszler, FBI,” a short, wired man announced in a shrill voice as he got into the doctor’s office, hand extended energetically and green eyes glinting warmly behind his thick-framed glasses. "Dr McMichaels?" The doctor raised her eyebrows in surprise as she shook his hand firmly.
“How can I help you, special agent Geiszler,” she asked, indicating the seat on the other side of her desk with her hand so the man would sit down.
“Call me Newt, only my boss calls me special agent.”
“Newt, how can I help you,” the doctor repeated pointedly.
“Straight to the point, I like that. I’m here to investigate a series of testimonies that popped up on social media, from local folks. Some of them said their doctor, that'd be you, wasn't helpful at all in helping them understand what happened to them.”
“Did they now,” she asked, raising her eyebrows.
"Oh yeah. They turned to less, er, scientific sources after that."
"I'm sorry but I'm finding it hard to follow you. What is it you want to know, Newt?"
"Well, these people claim to have been abducted. Say they woke up in a random place with severe lower back pain, splitting headache —"
"Their nose bleeding, as well as a bloodshot eye."
"Yeah," Newton exclaimed. "So you know who I'm talking about! What other symptoms did you notice?"
"Well, as you've already said, but two of them seemed rather scared. Nightmares, brief moments of confusion and paranoia during the day. They're usually normal, sensible people, and didn't bring up anything of an… out-worldly nature. They really didn't seem to know what was happening to them, as you mentioned. I've never known them to suffer from any delusions, and I can testify of the existence of their symptoms, as well as their similarities."
"Alright, and you said only two of these people..?"
"The third patient didn't seem too anxious about the situation, more annoyed by it, because his work is impacted by his lack of sleep due to his nightmares. But he's a stoic guy. A university doctor."
"A doctor, huh? Interesting," Newton mumbled. "Did you notice anything but their haemorrhages during your examination? Actually, what kind of examination did you give them?"
"I checked their eyes, throat, ears, heart rate and lungs, the usual."
"Did you notice any wounds, or markings of any sort on the skin?"
"No, nothing of the sort, I didn't know I was supposed to be searching for any. They didn't seem to have suffered from any head trauma, but I did advise them to see a neurologist, and ordered some blood work."
"Have you received any results yet?"
"Just the blood results of my first patient, nothing was out of the ordinary. Actually, the third patient left not an hour ago, and I had to call the two others after that. It seemed strange to me that three different people presented the same symptoms. None of them left town, nor came upon anyone who was sick, or ate anything weird… I thought it could be intoxication, or a virus maybe, but I need the results from the lab for the three of them to investigate further."
"Yeah, I see. Well," Newton said getting up. "Do call me when you get those results, even if nothing comes up, alright?"
The doctor nodded and escorted Newton to the door.
"Tell me," she said, hesitation evident in her voice, "can I ask you why the FBI is investigating this? And so quickly too? You guys surely don't give waste time on infection outbreaks?"
"I'm afraid I can't answer that, doctor," Newton grinned and started to walk out of her office. "But I will say that we don't believe you should be worried about any sort of intoxication or virus," he called over his shoulder.
Dr McMichaels frowned and fished for her patients' files.
Hermann was having a hard time staying awake. Analysing data was something he usually enjoyed, that even enticed and engaged him, but today, the numbers all melted into one another. He removed his glasses, letting them hang on his chest from their chain, and rubbed his eyes as he leaned against the back of his chair. He was getting more and more frustrated by the minute, hating himself for not being capable to concentrate on his precious work. The only thing he could do was try and get some rest.
Maybe he'd be able to stay asleep a little longer if he wasn't in his own home, where he had gone through the shock of waking up on his lawn, and slept in the lab's break room. He let his computer run, got up relying heavily on his cane to support his weight, and locked the lab's door behind him.
He was startled when he realised someone was standing right beside him, where he hadn't even noticed anyone in the faculty's hall as he exited the lab. He placed a hand on his heart and looked reproachfully at the small man who was looking eagerly at him.
"Dr Hermann Gottlieb?"
He eyed the man suspiciously. Shirt and tie that, somehow, looked anything but professional, carefully styled hair, big glasses, and garish tattoos adorning his bare forearms.
"Do I know you?"
"Oh we haven't had the pleasure to meet yet, I'm Newt."
Hermann looked at him with obvious disdain, but Newt didn't seem bothered by that, although the amused glint in his eye indicated he had noticed it.
"Special agent Newton Geiszler, actually," he added with a smirk.
"Spe - I'm sorry, sir, what can I do for you?"
Hermann berated himself internally. He would always be a pushover in front of anything that looked like an authority figure. He knew why he was like that, and he also knew very well that would never get him his father's consideration back. He bit back a bitter sigh and looked into Newton's eyes with curiosity. Shifting swiftly back to the present events, Hermann made an instant connection with what his GP had told him. A virus. Poisoning. His recent condition.
His thoughts briefly went to his own research, but something in him prevented him from establishing a reasonable connection with it.
"I've been investigating a series of events across the country for a while. They started happening here some days ago as well, I need to ask you a few questions."
Hermann looked puzzled as he pocketed the lab keys.
"Yes, of course, but I have no idea how I can help you. Do you need access to our satellites? Or our data?"
"I was rather hoping you could tell me about the symptoms you've been having these last few days, actually," Geiszler replied. He toyed with the black leather strap of his satchel. "Can we take this somewhere private? Like your office or something?"
"Yes but, first, can you tell me what I have to do with any of this?"
"You reported some symptoms to Dr McMichaels that are congruous with previous data and observations I've made."
"How do you know that? Did she give you my name," Hermann asked defensively. He was almost certain there was patient-doctor secrecy that even the FBI couldn't override with a warrant, and he had always been under the impression warrants took more time than that to be issued. He checked his watch. Not even two hours since he'd left her practice.
"No, but she mentioned a doctor working at the university, it wasn't hard to find you from there," the man smiled up at him.
"This way," Hermann sighed. He wasn't so much upset at having to help any government representative, or his doctor letting information about him slip, as bothered that he wouldn't be able to nap like he desperately wanted to. He felt foggy and slightly nauseous from sleep deprivation. Plus, this small man was grating, from his voice to his barely contained energy, not to mention his cocky attitude. Hermann's eyes burned and his head felt heavy. He led the way to his private office, his cane thudding on the linoleum floor. He let Newton go in first and closed the door behind himself.
"I'm gonna show you some pictures, you tell me if you recognise anything, ok," Geiszler intimated to him as they both sat down.
Hermann nodded curtly in agreement. He crossed his arms and pinched his lips as the agent displayed a set of pictures before him.
"I'm not a medical doctor, or a biologist, Mr Geiszler," he sighed after having observed them.
"Newt."
"All I see are scars", Hermann continued, ignoring Newt's prompt for familiarity. "What am I supposed to recognise?"
"You haven't seen this type of scar ever before," Newton asked him sceptically, eyebrows raised.
"As I told you, I'm not a med—"
"Can I examine you, Dr Gottlieb?"
"I beg your pardon? In what capacity would you be qualified to do that?"
"I'm a medical doctor," Newton sneered. "And a biologist. I'm trained for that sort of exam."
"That sort? Do you have to make it sound so ominous? Are you implying I also have a scar like that that I wouldn't have noticed, Dr Geiszler?" Hermann touched his lower back without realising he was doing so. He realised with anguish the spot felt tender.
"Just call me Newt, seriously," he insisted, getting up and shutting the blinds of Hermann's office. He flicked the lights on. "And I'm sorry, I don't mean to scare you, I'm trying to help you but you're making it unnecessarily difficult, man."
Hermann felt his cheeks heat up at the unpleasant feeling the man's coarseness provoked in him.
"Well, Newton, you're making a terrible job at not appearing sinister," he pointed at the now-closed blinds with his chin.
"'Just wanted to give you some privacy, relax," Newton said, rolling his eyes as he came close to Hermann instead of sitting back down across the desk from him. "Now please, will you let me help you, and let me examine you? I know it's not fun to lose sleep over these nightmares. I can make it stop."
"You can," Hermann whispered hopefully, looking up into Newton's green eyes. Freckles he hadn't seen in the dim hall dusted his face. Hermann clenched his jaw and averted his eyes. "Have you…"
"Yeah, long time ago," the agent answer matter-of-factly, as if it was nothing, as if the situation was perfectly normal and they'd be discussing the price of milk. "Come on, let me see your back."
Hermann took his blazer off, and got up before he lifted his shirt, untucking it from his trousers in a hesitant gesture.
"Don't worry about your eye, by the way," Newton told him softly as he lay a warm hand on the bare skin of Hermann's back. "It'll be gone within two weeks."
Hermann tensed under his touch, but Newton trailed his fingertips lower, right above his waistband, and sucked in a breath audibly.
"What," Hermann asked, alarmed, turning his head back over his shoulder. "What is it, Newton?"
"You have one. Let me show you."
Newton took a picture with his smartphone, which he handed to Hermann. Hermann re-adjusted himself before looking at the picture with apprehension. He fell back on his chair.
"What's that," he asked tightly, barely audible. He could feel his throat tightening and anxiety creeping up his neck. "I haven't felt anything when I showered or got dressed." He looked at the picture again, his knuckles white around Newton's phone. There was a perfectly round scar the size of a penny that looked to have been cauterised on the right side of his lower back. He didn't understand how he could not have felt it when it felt tender right now.
"Have you ever heard of the terms close encounters, or abduction?"
Hermann's eyes went wider. Newt was looking at him expectantly. Hermann burst out laughing when he realised Newton was actually being serious.
"I'm not joking, dude." Newton sounded offended enough that Hermann believed him.
"Oh, that might be even worse," he hiccuped, failing to stifle his laughter behind his hand.
Newton got up, turned his back to Hermann, and lifted his own shirt. Hermann's laughter died immediately. Sure enough, and despite the swirling motifs of the extensive tattoo the FBI agent was sporting on his entire back, the same scar was lodged between two waves of colour, in the same spot. The only difference was that right next to it, there was another scar, a curved line, that looked fresher.
Hermann got to his feet and bent down to examine it closely. Newton was looking at him over his shoulder with an unreadable expression. Hermann lifted his hand, his fingertips hovering above the reddened patch of skin. He looked up at Newton who nodded wordlessly. Softly, tentatively, he swiped across the scars with his thumb. He didn't catch Newton's eyes fluttering shut for a second. He touched the same spot on his back with his other hand reflexively and winced.
"Does it still hurt?"
Newton shook his head. "Not anymore." Hermann straightened when Newton pulled his shirt back down and turned to face him.
"When did it happen to you?"
"Almost two years ago. I was already with the bureau, but I was with the Operational Medicine Program. I kinda shifted gears after… Well. After my abduction, I guess."
They stood closer than Hermann was used to with anyone but he didn't mind. As grating as Newton was, there was something about him that compelled Hermann. A sort of engaging and mutual understanding.
"The nightmares I'm having… They are not dreams, are they? They're memories, right?"
Newton nodded.
"And that scar… Did they operate on me?"
"Not exactly. They placed an implant in you," Newton replied. He squeezed Hermann's forearm soothingly when the man gasped.
"No, absolutely not, this is not happening to me. This is fiction, or a prank. These things don't happen in real life."
"Your denying the facts won't make them untrue, or make any of it un-happen, man."
Hermann looked at him with a mixture of fear and confusion. He made the conscious effort to concentrate on the warm hand laid on his arm to ground himself in reality when his head started spinning and his legs go weak.
"It's okay, I'm here. You're not on your own, I'll help," Newton told him earnestly and squeezed his arm again.
Hermann looked briefly from Newton's green eyes to his own shoes, before taking another glance at him. He felt strangely safe with Newton despite the situation and, somehow, instinctively knew he could trust him. "Thank you," he whispered thinly.
"Sure thing." Newt patted his shoulder energetically. "Now, I'll need you to take the rest of the day and come with me. We're gonna get you some sleep, then we'll deal with the rest."