[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.