completelycrazy | week 5 - hermann

[Hermann's messing around on his tablet before bed, but then someone taps on the window, and he almost drops it. He's still jumpy, whoops. But it's only Newt, so he unlocks the doors and motions for him to get in the other side.

Mostly because it would be weird to talk through the window.]

[no they should probably have a private conversation by shouting through a window.

Newt heads over to the other side of the car and hops into the passenger seat. He locks the doors again.

And then he's quiet, suddenly not sure what to say. God. Um.]

What are you doing? [He gestures at the tablet, fidgeting in his seat.]

Compiling information, as I have been all week.

[He shuts it off for the time being, though.]

What are you doing? You look nervous. Did someone say something?

[Like a threat or-?]

[He glances down at himself and stops bouncing his legs around. Trying to keep still takes Effort though, and he's back to fidgeting again almost as soon as he starts talking.]

No. I mean, yeah, but like, not specifically. [He does look a little roughed up, though. It's not recent, but it's no secret that people have been beating on him all week.]

I, uh... [He shrugs.] It's almost curfew.

[He's a sparkling conversationalist.]

[Hermann frowns. He knows about the beat-downs. He's honestly surprised he hasn't gotten more of it himself.]

It is, yes.

[He's Well Aware because he's locked himself inside a car. He's Very Nervous.]

Do you think we should stick together?

[That might just make them easier to find.]

[Oh.

That stops him short. There's the faintest hint of a sad smile, but then he bites his lip and is suddenly very focused on playing with his bracelets.]

Um... No, I don't think that'd be a good idea.

[Yeah, okay, that's enough.]

I'm not stupid, Newt. What aren't you telling me? If you didn't want to stay together, then you wouldn't have come unless you had something to share.

Edited (that's doesn't happened) 2018-04-11 06:01 (UTC)

[Well, at least Hermann really is just as smart as him.]

Actually, I was hoping you would. In case, you know. [...] This might be our last chance, and all.

[He glances up somewhat expectantly. This is a long shot, he knows. "A few weeks doesn't exactly make up for a lifetime, anyway." An hour isn't going to make a difference, either.

But he doesn't want to die like this.]

[So, stupidly perhaps, Hermann assumes this is about the game. He's had the game on his mind all week, he thought that's where their conversation was going already. So at first... Yeah.]

Do you think I'm keeping secrets from you? We're partners, why would I do that?

[Partners who have... killed a dude together.]

[Ah. Well then.

Newt balks, sure, at first, that he's misheard somehow. But he hasn't, and then Hermann leaves it at that, and... That's it. Hermann is just focused on the game.

Newt didn't expect any different, honestly, and yet that doesn't stop what little calm he's been able to muster from snapping in half. This was a stupid idea. He's gotten as much closure as he's ever going to from their conversation after the trial. He was so sure there had to be more than that, whatever it was, and he has more to say... But he's too wired to nail it down. He's never been good at voicing these sorts of things. For everything his mind is good at, the piece of his brain responsible for translating emotions into words has always been broken. He just... Why can't Hermann just figure it out? He's better at that sort of thing. And even know Newt isn't sure how to put himself into words, some part of it should be obvious. It's not his fault it's taken a lifetime, taken nearly a decade to talk about a heartbreak that, evidently, Hermann isn't even aware of.

He whips his head away before Hermann can register how much this hurts. He throws the car door open and climbs out.]

Forget it. Bye.

[He slams the door and starts off, not exactly sure where he's going.]

Edited 2018-04-11 10:24 (UTC)

[Wait, what? Thankfully Hermann's mind works quickly, but he's already moving before he's quite reached it. He flings the car door open and scrambles out, almost forgetting his cane somehow.]

Wait, Newt, wait!

[He stops because actually chasing him is stupid, but he's close enough to say something at least.]

You weren't talking about the game. [Not a question. He knows better now.

He was talking about... well, That. The Half-Truth. The proverbial elephant in their proverbial room. Herman's been so focused on surviving, on trying to right the game's course even if he dies, that he's partially forgotten about that fight they had after the trial. But he remembers now, and he remembers what Undine said. That having only a little time left was even more reason to sort things out. It's like a second chance. He wasn't sure it would matter, but clearly it does to Newt.

And if he's being honest, it does to him, too.

It certainly hasn't been in the forefront of his mind all these years, but it's been lurking somewhere in the pit of his stomach, only rising into his throat when their fights get particularly nasty, or when one of them threatens to leave the lab, or when he thought Newt had killed himself trying to Drift with Mutavore's damaged brain. And at the last trial, for sure.

But is it really something he needs to confess, before one or both of their possible permanent demises? It's over and done with, isn't it? All that fluster at the trial, that was just... smoke and mirrors. It wasn't real. A half-truth. Right.]

I wasn't lying, you know. Part of it- what I said to Undine- it was true.

[Newt doesn't make it very far. He stops as soon as he hears the other door start to open. He's not sure why. He's done playing this game with Hermann, constantly rebreaking a bone that never healed properly to begin with. And he doesn't want Hermann to see him like this, shaking and misty-eyed and scared, god he's so scared. He's going to die tonight. He has accepted this as fact.

And he doesn't expect round two of this conversation to go any better. Or maybe it's round three, if he's counting their post-trial conversation. Or, really, they're up to some basically infinite number of conversations at this point. It's not like they're ever really talking about this issue they keep dancing around. This one will be another drop in the bucket. The last drop, maybe, but just more of the same.

He turns around anyway. It's stupid, probably, but he's never been the type to give up hoping just because it would be the rational thing to do.

Suffice to say that Hermann's words really do take him by surprise.]

Which part, exactly?

[Ah, right. Now he has to actually say it. Which is, of course, the hard part. All this time he's kept it to himself, though for differing reasons, buried it deep and left it there. Because what else was he supposed to do with it? It was never going to go anywhere.

He takes a minute shuffling and then standing up straight, and then letting his shoulders sag again.

He sighs. Might as well start at the beginning then, right?]

When we were younger. Before we met, you know, face to face. [He can't bring himself to make eye contact.]

You were the first person I ever... connected to, in that way. You were probably my first close friend. [Which should be embarrassing to admit, but it's not like Newt doesn't already know that, probably.]

At some point I realized I might- That there might be an inkling of something else involved. I don't know what you'd call it. Affection, maybe. [Or something stronger if you're not a coward.]

I never said anything, of course. What was I supposed to say? There was never any indication that it might be shared. [He's talking too much. He knows he's talking too much.]

And then when we did meet, well, you know how that went. I let it go, I suppose. There was nothing else to do with it.

[Newt looks away, too. He focuses his attention on a crack in the asphalt, his heart thrumming as Hermann goes on. How long has he been waiting for this? The words don't seem real. He balls up his fists.

It's his turn to talk, but... Cobbling together a Pons system out of car parts before curfew strikes sounds like the easier plan. Drifting would certainly be preferable to having to put words around this.]

You--Really? [He already knew, though. Of course he knew. So much is clicking into place all of the sudden.]

...There was nothing else to do with it? I... How could you just let that go?

[It's not an accusation. The question is genuine, despite the pain its filled with.]

[Honestly, Hermann could go for a Drift right now, too. They only had a glimpse into each other's heads, but that alone was better communication than they've ever had with words. Of course, the presence of the Other sort of soured it. Like a lot, actually.]

We'd only ever had friendly, academic debates on paper. When we got into a real argument in person, I thought- Well, surely, I thought you couldn't feel the same way. To pursue it would've been... awkward.

[He gestures with his free hand, not sure... exactly what gesture to make so just kind of waving his hand in the air.]

Besides, I'm... I'm not the only one who let that relationship go.

[Now it's his turn to sound hurt.]

[Newt presses his lips into a line, exhales a tight breath through his nose.]

We--we just fight, Hermann. All the time. It's what we do. We've always... You're the one that made it weird! It wasn't that big of a deal!

[But it was. Newt had been similarly crushed when, after years of passionate back-and-forth, the real thing turned out to be so infuriating. And it escalated more quickly than he anticipated, and then they were yelling at each other, and it felt nothing like the letters. It just hurt.]

And you said it yourself: It would've been awkward. I didn't... I didn't let it go. I was trying to, I don't know, give you space, or whatever.

[Or he was too afraid that he really had broken things beyond repair, and then the appropriate window for "space" lapsed and turned into radio silence. He hesitates.]

I guess I just thought I'd hear from you again if, y'know, you still wanted to talk. It didn't need to be some grand thing. I wanted to just... pick up where we left off, I guess.

[A beat.]

But I'm not the one that let it go. Whatever happened there wasn't me letting it go.

Wasn't that big of a deal?

[He frowns. Again. Continuously.]

Then why did you give me so much "space" that it turned into three years? [This is directed almost as much at himself, honestly.]

A channel of communication works two ways, Newt. Yes, I was angry at first, but then I was just- I thought I must've broken it. We must have. When you remained silent I took that to mean you had no interest in continuing, so I didn't press. And truth be told I- I didn't know how to fix it anyway.

[And so not fixing it became easier than trying.]

So what, are you telling me you've been harboring this... this whatever-it-is for all this time?

[It's so much easier to argue with Hermann when he can just trust his brain to cherrypick the correct response. Their fights have always come so naturally to him--it's not like he was making it up when he said that it's a near-constant occurrence.

When Hermann first opens his mouth, Newt is already loading up his comeback. He's all ready to push back, and then... He goes and says all that.

How much does Hermann remember about the Drift? Too much, clearly. He may as well have reached in and plucked those words right out of Newt's head.]

...Yeah, well, that makes two of us, I guess. [He says it quietly.

And then, more quietly:]

I don't know. Maybe. [...] That three years sucked, but the five years that followed sucked more, you know? In some ways. It's... It's like I was saying. No one likes us, Hermann. We don't even like each other.

[The admission takes him aback. Now it's his turn to be surprised, he'd expected far more argument. The two of them trying to shunt blame off on each other, doing what they always do. But somehow, it's Newt who has the reservation to stop it in its tracks.

Hermann's shoulders sag. He's quiet for a moment.]

... Don't we? [And before that gets misinterpreted:]

We don't- We didn't work out as friends. Whoever was to blame, both of us probably, that's... It already happened. But I... I respect you. As a colleague, as a person. It wasn't just for the sake of the world that I chose to follow you into the Drift.

[There were selfish reasons, too.]

I don't like being constantly at odds with you, of course not. But the past five years, well, they haven't been the worst. Whenever you threaten to leave, when you almost died, I thought- [Ugh. Saying this is like pulling his own teeth. He hates that almost as much as the act itself.]

I thought I would miss having you around.

[Newt feels himself about to lose it as soon as Hermann starts up again. He looks away, shifting his weight and alternating between folding his arms and placing his hands on his hips. How much time do they have left? Curfew must be soon. They should... Well. Hermann should head back to his car. Newt should go elsewhere. Staying together would be risky, and if he does die tonight, he doesn't want Hermann waking up to his mutilated corpse. Let someone else find that.

But this is probably their last chance. Even if by some miracle it's not, Newt knows they're never going to be able to raincheck this conversation. Regardless of what happens overnight, if they shelve this now, it'll just sit around collecting dust for another five, ten years. Not again.

He takes a breath to steady himself.]

Both of us. Sure. [It's an honest concession.] I don't... It's not like all this has been bubbling under the surface for that long, alright? It's not consuming every--It's not like I think about it all that often. I mean, maybe I, I don't know, I thought I was more over it than I am.

[Sort of, anyway. A willful ignorance is, well, willful.]

Then here we are, y'know? It's a pretty poignant second chance, if you ask me. This means we were both slated as the frontrunners for our world's games. Both of us. Whoever's in charge of the roster obviously thought we were capable of more than--than this.

[He gestures between them, not entirely sure where's he going with this. Letting his mouth just go for it with his emotions in the same way it usually runs on science is frightening, but ultimately easier than trying to think all of this through.]

But, um... [He sniffs.] That's good to know and all, but don't miss me too much. Don't get lazy just because there's not a planet in need of saving anymore. I...

[...]

How much time do we have left? Before curfew.

[That first part. Oof. Willful ignorance indeed.]

I... thought the same, to be honest. [He'll leave it at that.] And maybe we are capable of, well, I don't know what. Not being at each other's throats at all times? Not constantly avoiding the topic that we've never really forgotten?

[Another vague hand gesture.]

I don't know how much time we have left. [And honestly, asking him that question is discrimination,] But I'm not going to get lazy, and I'm not going to miss you.

[Harsh, Hermann. Oh wait-]

Because you're not going anywhere. And if you do, I'll just- I'll have to make sure you make it back with me anyway. Whatever else happens, we started this together, and we should end it that way.

You can't know that! [He snaps it before he can stop himself, his voice breaking.] You don't have anymore control over that than I do!

[So much for "not being at each other's throats" but he has no one else to be mad at. That's the problem, honestly. He's feeling too many things and he doesn't know where to put it all. He can't just leash it. It has to go somewhere, so he's back to pummeling Hermann for no real reason other than that he's here and he's familiar. It's almost like things are back to normal again.

Except, no. Normal wasn't all that good. That's what he's here to change, isn't it? Why bother tracking Hermann down with--god how much time do they have left?--if he was just looking to return to the status quo? We don't even like each other.]

Why... can't we just go back? I want to go back to how things were, um, before we met. Redo everything.

[He brushes his sleeve over his eyes, but it doesn't do much good. God, this all feels so stupid.] I've--I've never felt... I don't know, I just... What happened? We're sitting here talking about it and I still don't--I don't get it. I don't get it! We threw that away for nothing! We did that! We made that choice for some--because it was too hard! That's idiotic, Hermann. What the hell were we thinking?

[He moves to wipe his eyes again, but he knocks his glasses off. They clatter against the blacktop. He leaves them. It doesn't matter, anyway. None of this matters. He buries his face in his hands and takes a few moments to just let himself cry. It would be embarrassing, but he's already careened well beyond embarrassing at this point in their conversation.

He forces himself to get it together before the silence hangs too heavy.

Sort of.]

You were right. Dammit, you were right. Of course you were. We can talk about this all we want but it's not going to make any difference. I die tonight or I die in a week or two weeks or whatever, and that's it. There's no reversing anything. We dug that grave and just kept right on digging, you know? I was stupid to think we could just... I don't know. Come out the other side.

[Wait what, how did that go sideways so fast? God, this always-]

This. This is what happened, Newt! This right now! The two of us arguing when in reality we almost agree!

[He stops shouting and takes a deep breath. He had plenty of practice not losing his cool with Monika, he just needs some more of that zen right now. Hah. His voice is still raised, has a raw edge to it.]

I wasn't right, you idiot. I said those things because I needed the distance. It's hard caring about people when you think you're going to watch them die.

[Oh, whoops. Too much. Dial it back now, Hermann.]

I don't know what we were thinking. We were younger, and more impulsive- [well okay one of us was more impulsive at the time-] and- and none of that matters now. You're right, we can't go back and change it, redo everything. But that doesn't mean we can't move forward.

But how do we do that, exactly? I don't know where to go from here, Hermann. What amount of "forward" could we possibly hope to accomplish in minutes?

[He's starting to panic--well, far from starting--so he reassures himself with the thought of the tape recorder. He dropped it in the car before he stormed off, he's sure he did. Hermann will find it. He's thorough. He'll find it in the morning before the investigation starts, and he can delete the evidence if he wants to.

It's not the ideal, but it's better than nothing, at least. Plan B. A failsafe.]

Sure, maybe we had time, but we keep banking on that. We--we keep assuming we'll live through to the next week. Now, this is just... This is it. This is where we're leaving off. Like, okay, maybe not, though the odds are--whatever, I doubt we have time to get into that crap right now. It's just--just... [He swallows.]

Before curfew hits, y'know, we should make sure... we've said everything we wanted to say.

[Hermann has to physically fight the urge to say that they don't have minutes, that this isn't the end. Because he isn't going to let it be. He didn't get his special permission from the Conductor, since he doubts it was even a thing to begin with, but from what he's heard, what he's been told, they aren't targets this week. Not before the trial, at least.

But Newt's panicking. It's useless. Arguing with him will just shave off even more time.]

Fine.

[He sighs. His eyes drift sideways again.]

I'm sorry. I wish we hadn't ended things like we did. I wish we hadn't both been stupid. I wish I hadn't been stupid. I wish things had stayed the way they were in the letters, in the emails.

[At this point, he almost hopes he does get murdered.]

In the last five years... I wish I'd said something. I wish I'd done something.

[He cuts himself off. That's... maybe that's enough.]

[Newt braces himself after the sigh, but he still isn't ready for this. Especially the end. It's been difficult to gauge exactly where in time they've been focused during this conversation. How much of the past is bleeding into the present? He can't be sure, even after Hermann is finished, but.

Hermann will just have to find out in the morning.]

Yeah, um, me too. [He wishes he could just leave it at that. Putting all of this into words is difficult, much more difficult than it should be. Maybe he should take Hermann's cue and do something instead.] Me too. I'm sorry. For--for everything, you know? I'd do a lot of things differently if I could. Not just... Back home, yeah, but here, too.

[Newt should tell him. It's the thing to do if he really wants to make amends, or whatever you'd call this. If Hermann is going to have to play this thing alone from here on out, he should at least know what's at stake. If only for the sake of logistics.

But... It's too late. He's not sure how much time they have left, but he knows it isn't enough to deal with the fallout from some eleventh hour confession. Should he have included it on the tape recorder? ...Maybe. But. But.]

I just, um. I didn't want to die thinking you hated me. Or with you thinking I hated you, or... anything like that.

[He shrugs, wipes his eyes again. Picks up his glasses. And... That's it. He can't bring himself to tell Hermann about the message to Pentecost, ergo he doesn't deserve anything more than this. He'll make that concession, at least.]

I should get going.

[Hm. That seems almost lackluster after all that screaming. Just a "me too"? Whatever, they can work on it. Because they will make it out of this. He's decided. This isn't really over.

He watches Newt pick up his glasses and then shifts a little.]

I don't hate you, Newt. I never did.

[Just. Clearing that up.]

[He laughs a little.] Yeah, well.

[You will.

If you ever find out.]

Same to you, buddy. [At least he has the decency to cringe at himself for that one.] I'll, uh, see you around, I guess.

[He hesitates for another second, studying Hermann's face carefully, but then heads off to find a quiet corner to drop himself in.]

[Hermann watches him leave, unsure how to feel about... all of that, really. He already had a lot in his head, but now he's got double that, it feels like. He went from feeling paranoid to feeling like that was stupid, and now he's worried again- Ugh. He needs to stop it.

He runs a hand through his hair and retreats back to the car he's been using as a home base.]

[Hermann will find a present waiting for him in the passenger seat!]

week 5 - hermann - thursday night

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how dare you use that against me

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