One hour.

The door was still closed. He tapped his foot and shifted in the seat, wiping automatically at his nose. There was no blood, not anymore, but he couldn't stop the phantom feelings of the thin little trickle. He'd only gone under once by himself, just to prove it could be done, but even a fragment of a brain had nearly overpowered him. He needed Hermann, and Hermann needed him. They were stupid, so stupid-

Two frames.

He whipped off his glasses and cleaned them on the same spot on this shirt, the place he'd cleaned them twenty or thirty or eighty-seven times. They weren't dirty; they felt wrong on his face, and he was suddenly so aware of their presence.

Three tattoos.

His back burned. It was a good burn. Beneath the bandages was Otachi, the pregnant Kaiju, nuzzling its baby. It took three separate sittings to get it done, to finish all the details he'd insisted they add, but it was his favorite tattoo thus far. He couldn't wait to show Hermann.

Four minutes.

The seconds ticked by. He tore off his glasses again and stared at the blurry clock, listening intently as the moments passed. Medical wouldn't let him in for two hours. There were four minutes left to go. He stood up to pace, stumbled over a chair, and jammed his glasses back on.

Five doctors.

The double doors swung open. He vaulted a chair, overturning it in his haste, and shouldered past the white-scrubbed medical team. "Hermann?"

He was sitting up in bed, a tissue shoved up one nostril. He looked a shade paler than usual, but just as dismissive. His expression dampened further the moment he looked to the door.

"Newton," he said. His voice was slightly nasal. "You don't use my first name in front of-"

"Did it work?"

He looked up at the gleam in Newt's eyes, then heaved a heavy sigh. "Yes, Newton. It worked."

Newton bounced down onto the end of the bed. "Because...?"

"Because the numbers made sense."

"No..." Newt shoved Hermann's hands out of the way and pushed him back onto the bed. He leaned over his fellow scientist. "Because my numbers made sense."

Hermann grumbled beneath him for a moment, but soon fell still. For several seconds they stared into each other's eyes.

"It is nice," Hermann finally mumbled. "To drift."

Newt nodded.

"Newton..."

"Shh." He grinned and pressed a finger to Hermann's lips. "I'd be honored drift with you, too."