When Newton opened his eyes again, a faint light leaked in from behind the shade of his one window. He stretched out and rolled over to look at his clock and spotted Hermann, leaning to the side and fast asleep. A smile spread over his face at the sight, how peaceful and vulnerable he appeared. Hermann never allowed his vulnerability to show so it was a unique sight.

The clock told him the time of ten after eight, less than an hour before they were normally at work in the lab. Newton stood and slipped on his glasses before pulling the black, tattered comforter from his bed and laying it over Hermann's sleeping form. He knew Hermann would be angry when he woke, but he felt he deserved to sleep in at least once.

He walked into the bathroom and checked his reflection in the round mirror above the sink. His skin looked paler than usual and his eyes seemed red and bloodshot. He still felt a little sore but most of the pain ebbed away during his dreamless few hours of sleep. After using the bathroom, he scavenged their fridge and pulled out a package of bacon, a carton of eggs, and a couple of potatoes.

He used the extent of his cooking skills to make all of it on their stovetop, juggling cooking everything at once. When he heard the tap of a cane echoing down the hall, Newton grabbed a couple of plates from the cupboards above the counters and set them down beside the stove before plating the cooked food. He clicked off the burners and turned around just in time for Hermann to storm in.

"Do you know how late it is?" he scolded as he walked around the corner into the open space.

"Chill out, Hermann," Newton said with a bright smile on his face. "We'll get to work. I'll call in late, say I wasn't feeling well. It's not a lie."

"That's no excuse," he said, his face set in a disapproving glare. Newton was convinced that's just how his face looked as its default expression.

"I never said it was an excuse. You just looked like you could use some extra sleep," Newton said. He grabbed a plate off the counter and held it out to Hermann. "I made breakfast as a, uh, thank you. For looking after me last night."

Hermann frowned at the plate, eyes softening enough for Newton to notice. "Fine, we can go in a little late. Just this once. But if we get reprimanded, it falls on you."

Newton nodded. "Yes, sir. Totally my fault."

Hermann shook his head a little as he carried the plate to the dining table and Newton followed soon after with his usual morning tea. He never had to ask how to make it because he simply knew, information that leaked through during their Drift experience. Afterward, he made himself a coffee and sat down as well, the two of them eating in relative peace.

"So, did I have any other episodes last night?" Newton said, munching on a crispy piece of bacon.

Hermann shook his head. "No, nothing."

Hermann refused to look at him concentrating solely on the food before him.

"You still think it's PTSD," Newton said, knowing it was true.

"It just seems more reasonable," Hermann said, setting down his fork. "Certainly, it could be combined with and amplified by side effects of your Drifts with a kaiju, but at its core…"

"Your reasoning isn't wrong but you didn't feel it," Newton said, dwelling on what scarce details he could remember. "It felt like something in my head, leaving everything I saw and felt behind."

"Well, leave that recorder by your bed and keep notes if it happens again," Hermann said.

"You know what? I will," Newton said, staring at Hermann. "Wanna know why? Because it's mine anyway!"

"Oh, don't start this, Newton," Hermann said dryly, drinking from his mug of tea.

"I'm just saying," Newton grumbled.

Hermann shook his head and finished off his tea before piling the mug and fork onto his plate so he could carry it all in one trip. Newton called into work while Hermann showered then he walked to his room to clean up a little as he waited for his turn. A few minutes later when the water turned off, Newton walked out for his turn and the door opened to a cloud of steam and a sweaty, topless Hermann with a dark green towel around his waist.

Newton's eyes widened and he choked on his own saliva. He coughed until he could breathe again as Hermann glared at him. He held the towel with one hand and his cane with his other as he stared Newton down. Newton did the same, except his eyes raked over the entirety of Hermann's body, every inch of skin. His gaze paused on the scar tissue stretching along his left leg. A flashback hit him then, just a quick flash and blinding pain. At first he didn't realize that it wasn't his, but after a moment he knew it belonged to Hermann. That didn't stop him from flinching because of the pain he remembered but never experienced. Hermann practically growled until Newton moved his eyes back to his face.

"I left my clothes in my room accidentally. Excuse me," he said, barreling past Newton and into his room.

Newton stood frozen for a few moments while he processed what happened before forcing himself to walk into the bathroom and take a shower. They both dressed and left for work, arriving around ten to open up the lab. Their assistants were waiting for them when they walked up and Newton used his keys, throwing open the door and allowing everyone in ahead of him.

A yawn forced its way out of him as he walked into the lab. He collapsed into his desk chair and rubbed his eyes of the exhaustion he felt within them. A groan settled in his throat as he opened his eyes to see Anna and Erika waiting patiently for him to notice their presence.

"Is there anything you need us to do, Dr. Geiszler?" Anna said.

Newton shook his head. "I got nothing. I'm sure Dr. Gottlieb doesn't wanna be disturbed, though that makes it tempting to disturb him. You guys and Bryson can work on your individual research for the day. Anything on my side of the lab is fair game. You should probably ask the good doctor back there if you need anything on his."

Relief spread over their faces at the news and they nodded before setting up work stations at the tables beside the door. Newton turned and rested his forehead on the eyepiece of his microscope, internally sighing at how terrible he felt. He squeezed his eyes shut and collected himself before pushing away and rolling around to the side of the table where the partially dissected skin parasite lay in its case of ammonia.

When he opened up the case and looked down at the parasite, a flash of deep, bloody red consumed his vision. He gasped, quick and sharp, and jumped back hard enough that his chair rolled into the table behind him. He blinked away the horrible sight until he saw the lab again and looked around to find that no one had noticed his little episode. His chest heaved with panicked breaths but he quickly calmed down, regaining a normal rhythm.

He stole a deep, stabilizing breath and continued with his work by removing the parasite and picking up where he left off the night before. Time passed by, fast at first before dramatically slowing down when his lack of sleep caught up with him again. He stood up and stretched, feeling a lunch hunger flare up in his stomach. He walked down the line of tape that divided the lab in half to the refrigerator that sat directly on top of it against the wall between two tables.

He opened it and looked at the wide array of foods, most of them not belonging to him. The idea of stealing from any of the assistants rarely crossed his mind, but Newton glanced over to see if Hermann was paying attention before grabbing half of his roast beef and cheese sandwich and a plastic baggie of trail mix. Hermann remained sitting in a chair a few feet from the blackboards since they arrived, staring and occasionally jotting down notes in a pocket notepad. Newton knew he wouldn't notice the theft any time soon.

The coffee machine on the opposite end of the line called to him and he obliged, placing the sandwich between his teeth for safe keeping as he grabbed one of the probably clean mugs sitting beside it and filled it with what was left from the morning's pot. He bit the chunk out of the sandwich when he pulled it from his mouth and sat down at his work station to finish off the rest of it. Soon the sandwich was eaten, the coffee drained, the trail mix half gone, but he gained no energy as if something syphoned it out of him as he refilled it.

In a moment of weakness, he folded his arms on a table and rested his head, just for a second, and he accidentally slipped away. Instantly, his mind filled with horrific images of watching people die in droves. Their cries exploded in his ears and he felt nothing. Their blood, no more than red polka dots in the sea they fell into as the bridge was ripped away like paper. He exterminated them.

Then he was back in the deep red world, sucked through a vacuum into hell, and he felt bone-chilling fear. It wracked his body and brain, near paralyzing. The Precursors, he saw them, his creators, his masters. Then he felt himself die, energy ripping through him, tearing him to pieces that disintegrated soon after. Once he was gone, the darkness returned and a voice that echoed like a powerful deity spoke in a language he didn't know but understood all the same.

Hello, Newton.

He gasped, desperate for air, and tasted warm blood on his tongue. His vision swam, the darkness dissipating until the ceiling of the lab pieced itself into view and he could feel the hard floor at his back. Someone held his head as Hermann knelt down on one knee into his field of vision with the help of his cane. He coughed and blood splattered onto his shirt, another one he'd have to replace along with all the nosebleed incidents.

"Newton, can you hear me?" Hermann said, concern causing his tone to waver from its usual accusing state to one of panic.

"Yeah," he replied weakly, trying to sit up.

Hermann reached out with his free hand and gripped Newton's left forearm before pulling him up. Only the hands on his back kept him stable. He coughed again and spit the blood out onto the floor, wiping his face mostly clean with the sleeve of his already ruined shirt. His head pounded, just like the last time, threatening to break apart.

"What happened?" Hermann demanded, still holding onto his arm with a vice grip as if he might lose him if he let go.

"I, uh, fell asleep," he said with a sad, pained laugh.

"Help me get him into a chair," Hermann said to the people behind him.

Three pairs of hands grabbed him in different places and lifted until he stood shakily on his feet. With the team effort, Hermann and the lab assistants guided him into his rolling desk chair and Hermann grabbed another from a nearby table to sit across from him. Newton felt like he might vomit or pass out, he couldn't tell which.

"Go take a break, I'll get you when we're done," Hermann said to the lab assistants. When they all left, he turned to Newton with urgency in his tone. "What did you see?"

"There was a lot," Newton said, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to remember. "It was more focused this time. Um, I remember I was hurting a lot of people, killing them, and then I was in this place and everything was red. I felt terrified. Still do…"

Hermann reached over and grabbed his face, forcing him to look him in the eye. Newton stared at him, a fixed point, and inhaled a calming breath. "You're not there anymore, Newton," he said soothingly. "It was only a dream and there's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Newton nodded and Hermann let go. "After that I, uh, I felt myself die," he said, keeping eye contact with Hermann to ground himself. "And then something spoke to me. It knew my name, Hermann."

"Whatever it was doesn't exist," Hermann said with conviction.

"It felt so real," Newton said, his voice and hands shaking in unison.

"Use your rational scientific mind, Newton."

"It's a bit harder to be rational when Satan just tapped into my head to say hello," Newton snapped.

"It was only a dream!" Hermann reiterated.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay," Newton said, dropping his head into his hands. "It was only a dream." He whispered it to himself over and over like a mantra.

Blood dripped from his nose into his palms, pooling there as Newton tried to keep his mind distant from the dream. He stopped whispering and moved his hands away, looking down at the dark liquid staining his hands. Hermann stood and grabbed a few paper towels from his side of the lab and cleaned up the blood from his palms and face.

"This is more serious than I originally suspected. We should schedule you for a brain scan," Hermann said as he wiped the last of the blood from his face.

"What? No," Newton said like an indignant child. "I don't need to see a doctor. I'm perfectly fine."

"Yes," Hermann said, shooting Newton a look that made him feel like he already lost, "bleeding profusely every time you fall asleep constitutes as perfectly fine."

"Maybe it'll stop on its own?"

"Or perhaps you'll die from blood loss or a brain hemorrhage," Hermann snapped. "Who is that neurologist friend of yours? The one you were in that band with."

Newton swallowed hard. "I don't know who you're talking about."

"Dietrich! Dr. Christoph Dietrich."

"That's not him!"

"Newton, give me your phone," Hermann said, holding out his hand.

"I don't—"

"NEWTON," Hermann growled, his glare piercing straight into Newton.

"Damn it," Newton hissed as he reached into the pocket of his pants and reluctantly held it out to Hermann.

Hermann snatched it from him and searched through his contacts, finding the right number quickly. He glared at Newton before standing and wandering away so that he wouldn't be interrupted. A wave of sick anxiety crashed over him as Hermann started to talk in hushed German, pacing a little as he spoke. He didn't want to see a doctor or know what was happening to him. Once it was given a name, it made it horribly real, real enough that it could actually kill him.

He nervously cracked his knuckles and shifted uncomfortably in his chair until Hermann hung up the phone. Newton balled his hands into fists to make the fidgeting stop as he approached and held out his phone to him. He snatched it back and stuffed it into his pocket before looking up at Hermann with an expectant expression.

"He's willing to do you a favor. You have an appointment for two in the afternoon tomorrow, no consultation needed," he said, looking fairly pleased with himself.

"Great," Newton replied with mock enthusiasm. "That's just… great."

"Do you want this to continue happening?"

"No," Newton begrudgingly admitted.

"Good," Hermann said, grabbing his parka from a hook near his chalkboards and pulling it on. "Grab your coat. We're going home."

"It's not that bad, Hermann," he pleaded.

Hermann shot him another argument killing look as he walked past him toward the door. "I'm sending the assistants home as well. Meet me outside."

Newton groaned but stood up and grabbed his leather jacket off the wall beside the door anyway. He dragged his weakened body out into the parking lot, pushed on his helmet, and sat on the bike until Hermann finally joined him. They drove off, Newton using every ounce of energy and concentration he had left to keep them balanced and alive. He felt grateful when they eventually pulled into their driveway and he could put up the kickstand and relax.

He rested against the handlebars as Hermann dismounted and grabbed his cane. After a second or two he managed to pry his own body off as well, following Hermann inside. He collapsed back against the door after closing it, shutting his eyes and immediately regretting it when he felt the fatigue. He rubbed his eyes back open under his glasses and forced himself to be alert.

"How much caffeine do we have in here? Coffee? Energy drinks? Adrenaline shots?" Newton said manically.

"We only have coffee," Hermann said, already preparing to make a pot. "Do you really think you can stay awake?"

"I've stayed awake for days on end. And I have to. I have to, Hermann," he said, desperation causing his voice to waver.

"All right," Hermann replied as he added the ground beans into the machine. "Then I'll join you. We'll keep each other awake."

"Are you sure, man?" Newton said, though he already knew that he was. He still felt like he had to ask. He always asked, just in case he ever wanted to back out.

"I'm positive. I saw your face both times, Newton. I know it wasn't a pleasant experience, what you saw. If I can help you avoid it, I will."

Newton, spur of the moment, pulled Hermann into a tight hug. It lasted all of two seconds before Hermann pried him off.

"Yes, yes. All right," he said flattening down his parka before simply removing it. "You're welcome."

"So," Newton said, a glint of something nearly malicious alight in his eye. "Monster movie marathon!?"

"Oh, must we?" Hermann droned as the machine started to spit out coffee into the pot. He hung up his parka on the hooks by the door and Newton did the same with his leather jacket and ring of keys.

"Come on. It'll be fun," Newton said excitedly, reinvigorated by the idea. "I think we have popcorn somewhere…"

Hermann looked like a groan sat in his throat, waiting to be free, but he held it back. Instead, he grabbed a couple of mugs from the cupboards, his own a plain black and Newton's plastered with a kaiju comic print. As soon as the coffee machine stopped sputtering, he filled them both and handed one to Newton. Newton stared at him hopefully and Hermann tried to resist him but Newton could feel his resolve weakening.

"Fine, I'll endure this marathon," he conceded.

Newton punched the air with his free hand before downing a mouthful of coffee. He set the mug down on a counter before scouring the kitchen for popcorn. He found a box stuffed behind a cereal box in the pantry and immediately threw one of the packages inside into the microwave that sat beside the fridge. Hermann watched him fly around the room in a whirlwind, quietly sipping his coffee and appearing decidedly disinterested. Newton popped two bags and poured both into a large, blue plastic bowl that he carried toward the living area, Hermann close behind.

When they reached the doorway, Newton maneuvered the bowl into Hermann's hand before rushing off to his room to grab his Blu-ray collection of monster movies. He shed his work clothes while in his room and pulled on a pair of torn black lounge pants and an Iron Man shirt that fit two sizes too large just so that he would feel more comfortable for Hermann's trek into the wonders of his film collection.

The stacks of thin cases sat lovingly arranged on a small, self-made metal bookcase next to his end table. He checked through the titles before grabbing a massive chunk of them and managing to balance them with the help of both arms and his chin. When he walked into the living area, Hermann's eyes widened fractionally at the sight of the stack that reached from Newton's waist to just underneath his chin. Newton grinned at him before setting the stack down in front of the glass entertainment center that their flat screen TV sat on.

The room itself was spacious, dark grey carpet, off-white walls, with black leather couches and chairs due to Newton's penchant for spilling food and drink on the furniture and floors. The wall across from the doorway was constructed to be a giant bookcase while old paintings and vinyl records hung decoratively on the others.

"These are arranged from classics to more recent stuff. Your pick where we start," Newton said, turning to look at Hermann.

"I honestly have no preference," Hermann said from his place on the couch.

Newton shrugged and knelt down, examining the different movies before settling on the first Jaws to start Hermann out with something simple. He pried open the case and slotted it into the sleek Blu-ray player and grabbed the needed remotes from the shelf beside it before joining Hermann on the couch. Hermann placed the popcorn between them as Newton hit play and they settled in for a long night of movie watching.

Throughout most of the first movie, Hermann held fast with a disinterested expression on his face, refusing to enjoy himself to any extent. He didn't touch the popcorn and sat with his arms crossed over his chest. Newton, with the energy and excitability of a puppy, kept looking over to see if Hermann was reacting at all of the right parts, only to be sorely disappointed. However, he refused to give up on the sturgeon-faced man.

The next movie, Predator, proved to be a large step up from man-eating sharks and Newton noticed, much to his delight, that Hermann became enthralled. His tightly crossed arms slackened and he grabbed a few pieces of popcorn as the movie played. By the time they reached District 9 and drank two pots of coffee, Hermann was actively engaged, discussing theory and probability with Newton and Newton reciprocated with nothing less than glee.

Ever since the war began and he started working with Hermann, Newton had no one to talk to about his interests since it was apparent Hermann wasn't interested. As they talked over the movie, Newton secretly wished he'd requested to do it earlier. He also thought that his interest was in part thanks to their time in the Drift.

Time flew by with movie after movie until it was six in the morning and they'd made all the coffee they had, forcing Newton to resort to caffeinated tea. He sat watching Godzilla destroy buildings as Hermann struggled to stay awake. The occasional incoherent mumble left his mouth before he finally lost his grip on consciousness, falling a short distance onto Newton's shoulder. Newton stared for a moment, perplexed, before mentally shrugging and turning back to the movie. He'd helped him all night so he deserved a few hours of rest.

Once the movie ended, he carefully wedged a hand between Hermann's head and his shoulder, lifting him up a few inches so he could stand up. Then using both hands, he gently lowered him back down on the couch in what appeared to be a mostly comfortable position. He didn't stir so Newton accepted that as a good sign.

He resisted the sudden, strong urge to lean down and kiss him on the forehead. What if he woke up? Then he would know. Except that he already knew, Newton realized. They both did and a long year passed without either of them mentioning it. The beginning wisps of a sigh passed his lips as he turned off the TV and the Blu-ray player before leaving him to rest and walked out into the kitchen where beams of early morning light peeked in.

He dumped the rest of the vanilla chai in his cup out into the sink and removed his glasses to rub his eyes. The caffeine in his system did nothing; he knew that for certain as he felt the weight of exhaustion pressing on him, making him bend like tree boughs in the wind. All that kept him awake throughout the night was the scratching he felt in his brain, claws digging into the folds and tearing them apart to get in. The soft, barely audible whispers that sent chills through him like electricity and filled him with dread. Everything he didn't want to see lay just beyond the thin veil between awake and asleep and the will to avoid it kept him going. Hermann being there as a safety net helped too.

He rummaged through the fridge and grabbed a bowl of leftover potato salad with a fork and sat down at the dining room table to eat. As he stabbed a chunk of potato and savored the taste, he built up a wall in his head between his conscious thoughts and the incessant whispers so he could make it through the day with his sanity intact. He only hoped that his brain scan would get results and that it would be easily fixed. He didn't want to die. He still had some things left unresolved.