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It wasn’t exactly hard to say that Newt had felt hollowed out following his return to the waking world. Not to assert that he wasn’t glad to have been set free from his Precursor prison and be able to be a part of the human world again, but there were restrictions that came with his return to society.
Logically, he understood that given his disposition, or possession, for the last ten years most sane people wouldn’t trust him near any scientific equipment. It was offensive in the way that he still had all of his credentials even if he had been a Precursor puppet. Nothing about his smarts had been altered by what they’d had him do. He was still just as eager to engage with the scientific community as ever, but they weren’t willing to take that risk with him.
It was frustrating, hurtful, but realistic. No matter how hard Hermann fought others about his freedom from the Precursors that didn’t mean that the damage wasn’t done. He could still feel them crawling around in his skull sometimes. His body goes stiff with the sensation of a distance from himself. He was presently there, but there was something else squirming inside.
He didn’t talk about that much, though.
At least, he would talk about it with his doctors and those that saw fit to monitor him further. The higher ups in the PPDC were obviously the most keen to keep tabs on him. Hermann had mentioned that there were a handful of them that were set on keeping him in custody rather than allowing him to return with Hermann. It was only because of the efforts of his doctors that they were able to see that they could rehabilitate him easier if he was with someone he was close with rather than trapped in a cell.
It was things like that that made Newt really consider how much had changed since he had been consumed. The idea that the PPDC were more of a militaristic force than when he worked with them was almost baffling. He regarded them as a bit too overbearing for his taste in a variety of areas, but he worked with them out of necessity. Still, He barely understood how Stacker Pentecost's distinctive style in running their robotic based system had been so quickly lost by those that took over for him. Just another militaristic force in the end, even if they meant well in doing it.
It was sickening, but easier for him to play along with it than opening critique it and risk being taken back to their cells.
Which, in its own right, shocked him that they had. Things had changed so much since he left, and he kept regretting it deeply. He couldn’t remember anymore if he was in control of himself back when it happened. He vaguely knew that it’d made sense in the moment. That there was some kind of conflict that pushed him to strike out on his own, but he wasn’t sure how legit that was.
There were enough black spots in his memory to make any medical professional concerned, but on top of that he knew that even if he did remember it that wouldn’t mean that it was him. The reason he wasn’t remembering it was because it wasn’t him. It was being consumed by the eyes of others. So, so, many others that used the information he possessed to do what they wanted to all in the name of the destruction of the very people he was born into.
It was so much.
There were plenty of nights where he couldn’t sleep because guilt ran its way through his veins and squeezed at his throat. There were plenty of times where he would have to stumble to the bathroom, quickly as possible as to not wake Hermann, and throw up bile as his stomach twisted up inside him.
He may have been a puppet, a tool used by others to harm the people he cared about, but his mind had still done it. His skills had been warped beyond his control and he was just going to have to live with that.
“You’re tense,” Hermann mumbled into his pillow. His hand was laid out on Newt’s back while his thumb began to run against his spine. “I thought you wanted to go to bed early.”
“That was your idea, not mine. I just follow your lead cause arguments are annoying.”
“Now you think they’re annoying?”
That got a chuckle out of Newt. It came out breathier than he wanted it to. His chest was already tight enough for his breaths to feel more labored than normal. He wondered if Hermann could notice considering how his hands were brushing against his skin. Slowly they began to trace over his tattoos. His eyes were still closed, but memory led the way.
“You know what I mean.”
“Considering how we mostly spoke in arguments fifteen years ago, I don’t quite think I do.”
Newt sighed, “Is this really how we always have to talk?”
He wasn’t surprised when Hermann’s body began to rise at that question. His eyes opening up with his hand trailing it’s way closer to Newt’s chest. He was nothing if not good at picking up on the little things these days. Details were what could have saved them from such a complicated present, but Newt had already told him time and time again that no one would have been able to guess what exactly had happened to him. That didn’t mean that Hermann still didn’t have regrets about it, though. His hand paused near his heart before he said, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing's wrong.”
His attempt to dismiss Hermann only made him more concerned as he inched himself closer to Newt, “You know if something’s upsetting you, Newton, that you’re supposed to tell me. That’s how this system works.”
“God, what does that make this? Like the millionth time I’ve heard that?” He flashed Hermann his best smile but watched no reaction come from it. Hermann stayed just as dead serious as ever. “Oh, come on, it’s fine. I’m fine. This kind of thing just happens to people.”
“People aren’t meant to have rapidly beating hearts for no reason at all, Newton.”
That got an eye roll out of the former scientist while he watched Hermann scoot his way closer to him. He didn’t protest though when his partner laid his head on top of his shoulder. “I mean if people have some kind of anxiety disorder or are just stressed out by something.”
“Last I heard you didn’t have any anxiety disorders.”
“Dude, you know I’ve got enough neurological issues that someone could write a whole thesis about it.”
“That’s what an undergraduate chooses to write about you then they have missed any entire back catalog of interesting topics. Your life’s work could easily justify a thesis all on its own. Not to mention the, well, implications of your brain partner.”
That got a genuine smile out of Newt, “Yeah, cause everyone would just love to hear more about how drifting with a Kaiju brain was oh so bad for me. Totally not like Pentecost didn’t warn me about it before.”
Hermann paused, his hand began to trace over Newt’s tattoos again as he said, “We all ended up with our own short end of the stick.Yours just became more memorable than most.”
“That can be said about a lot of the things I do in life, Herm.”
They both mutually got quiet after that. Hermann’s hand squeezing the edge of Newt’s back while they both continued to melt into the other. The physicality for the two of them was always going to be the most important thing. They were present, they were there, and they each needed to be reminded of that sometimes.
“I can’t get over why it had to be me.”
Hermann ran his chin against his partner’s shoulder, “In what way?”
“That after everything I did, all the research, all the papers, and all that time spent giving myself for this world, I end up being the one to cause it’s undoing.”
“It wasn’t you.”
“I know that, okay, Hermann, I know that it wasn’t me. They still used me though. I was a piece of their puzzle and didn’t have it in me to fight back.”
“You fought back eventually.”
“It wasn’t soon enough. If I’d just tried harder, if I’d fought harder, then so many people wouldn't be dead now.”
“You know that’s not how that works. Out of everyone on this whole planet you are the only one that can understand that it isn’t true, so don’t beat yourself up about it.”
Newt pulled himself away from Hermann then. He felt his partner’s fingers brush against his skin and try to cling to him only to have them hit the bed sheets. He turned himself around so that his back was to him and his feet were planted squarely on the carpet. “That’s not the point, Hermann! You can’t keep repeating the same stuff over and over again and expect it to work, okay? I know there was nothing that I could have done, I know that these are just the consequences of my actions, and I know that I brought this on my fucking self. I know it all. Every possible thing you could bring up to make me feel better I’m already keenly aware of it, Hermann. I’m a fucking idiot who fucked it all up for everyone and wasn’t strong enough to–”
He realized that he was shaking when Hermann wrapped his arms around his waist. His fingers curled around the edges of his hips and held themselves there by lightly squeezing his skin. A gap had been forming with each word he spit out in front of him. His body was hollowing itself out as tears welled in his eyes and his words kept bubbling up more and more. He was present, yes, but he wasn’t fully there. He wasn’t quite sure how often he was there anymore.
“You can finish what you were going to say.” Hermann mumbled into his back. His nose was pressed against the tapestry of the long gone kaijus. A symbol of what Newt had loved so much, but now could feel queasy at if he looked at them on the wrong day.
“It’s fine, you’ve heard it all before.”
He blew a stream of air against his skin as he let out a long, heavy, sigh, “But you’re still feeling it.”
“Yeah, clearly.”
“Then there’s room to repeat it. Improvement isn’t linear. We know that better than most. We’re scientists, remember. We’re used to having to redo things and go back a few steps to make sure we have things right.”
“You’re a scientist, Hermann, I’m just a hazbin who used to be worth something.”
Hermann’s fingers dug into his skin after that remark, “Don’t discredit yourself like that.”
“The PPDC are certainly keen to, so why shouldn’t I? Not like I’m ever gonna be able to do anything with it. No one will let me near any of my research, not to mention fund anything I may even want to work on. If I wasn’t such a well of information about the precursors, the PPDC would have had me killed a long time ago, you know that.”
“I wouldn’t have let them!”
“Oh come on Hermann, like you’d have been able to stop an organization like that from doing whatever the hell they want? With Herc gone it lost the one person who was willing to keep it how Pentecost wanted it. Not even Mako was capable of fighting off those waves of change, dude.”
“I stopped Liwen Shao from shooting you, do you seriously think I wouldn’t raise hell to make sure that you survived after that?”
Newt began to wipe his face as the mix of snot and tears started to irritate his skin, “You do too much, Herm, you know that?”
“Yes, Newton, I am fully aware of how much I do for you. I just wouldn’t do it for anyone else.” He pulled himself up, still holding Newt, and kissed him on the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t fight for anyone else.”
Newton placed his hand on top of Hermann’s and intertwined his fingers with his. “Yeah? You wouldn’t fight for anyone else?”
“No,” he kissed his neck again, “Only you.”
Newt felt his hands begin to twitch and throat tighten up. His heart beat had long since slowed to a normal pace, but he was still feeling overwhelmed. His grip on Hermann’s hand tightened as he let out a shaky breath, “Thanks, Hermann.”
“I’m always here for you, Newton, you know that, right?”
“Yeah, I’m starting to remember it now.”
Neither of them complained when early morning sunlight slipped in their window. They couldn’t find it in themselves to care either as the world started to come to life outside their door. They were both just focused on one another. Because being present was one of the few ways they knew to make sure that the other was really there anymore, and they were more than happy to sit there and do that after everything. Life could wait, because they needed to know that they weren’t ever going to be alone again.