As dawn broke, Newton still felt shaken. He clung to Hermann like a lifeline, the only thing to keep him afloat in the middle of the ocean. Hermann kept a hand on his back even as he slept, a reinforcement that he was there for him. Newton felt comforted by it, but not wholly. He didn't know when he would feel completely at ease again, not with those things in his head.
Despite the physical symptoms, Newton began to wonder at some point during the night if he was losing his mind. Deep down, he knew he wasn't, that something about his brain was physically damaged, but hearing voices in his head didn't bode well in any situation. He thought about a lot as the hours passed, about how he could fix it, where he would begin his research, if anything he heard in his head was real or not. The last one distressed him the most.
If the voices weren't real, it meant something psychological on top of what was happening to him. If they were, it meant something a lot worse. He clutched Hermann tighter at the thought, causing him to groan and attempt to shift in his hold. Hermann moved his hands to Newton's arm, trying to gently pry it into a looser grip.
"I think you're crushing my ribs, Newton," he said, sounding strained.
"Sorry," he replied, unwrapping his arms from Hermann's torso. "You can, um, go back to your own room. If you want. I'm totally fine now."
Hermann glanced over at him and Newton hoped he didn't look like he was lying. He didn't want to be a burden. Hermann gave him a small, sad smile before throwing the covers off him and slowly pushing his body out of bed. Sadness swept over Newton but he tried to pat it down, knowing it was ridiculous to think he might stay.
"I'm going to go make some tea. D'you want me to bring you a cup of coffee?" Hermann said tiredly as he grabbed his cane from beside the bed.
"Oh," Newton said, surprised. "No. No thank you. I'll be out in a minute to make it myself."
Hermann paused at the door and looked back. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"As okay as I can be."
Hermann's brows creased in concern before he left the room. Newton lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment or two before he rolled out. When he stood up, he felt the weight of days without sleep press down on him, making each step a huge effort. He stood straighter, trying to shake it off for Hermann's sake. He didn't need to be worrying about him when there were more important things, like his work.
He rubbed his eyes before slipping on his glasses and walked out of his room with his head held high. Hermann placed a kettle on the stove and turned on the coffee machine when he walked into the kitchen. He ambled over and hopped onto one of the counters, sliding a little and swinging his legs back and forth as Hermann shot him a dirty look. Newton beamed at him and Hermann shook his head, turning to concentrate on the caffeinated beverages.
He sat and watched as the coffee dispensed into the pot and the kettle started to whistle a few minutes later. Hermann deftly poured out the water into a waiting cup with a tea bag before moving to the coffee, spooning sugar into both. He stirred them and handed the coffee to Newton before carrying his tea to the dining room. Newton frowned, hopping off the counter to follow after him.
"Something on your mind, dude?" he said as he set down his mug and sat in the chair next to his.
Hermann looked at Newton as if he just dropped IQ points. "I wonder. You still have blood on your face, by the way."
Newton reached up and touched his face just under his nose, feeling dried flakes of blood. "I'll be okay. You don't have to worry about me."
"If I don't, who will?" Hermann said without looking at him.
"My family?"
"And you want to tell them about this?"
Newton's frown deepened considerably.
"Precisely," Hermann said, staring into his tea. "I'm all you have. Of course I worry."
Newton gulped down his coffee, unsure of what to say. "Well, don't completely focus on it. We both have work to do."
"Don't flatter yourself, Newton," he said as he stood from the table. "I don't think about you that often."
Newton stared after him with a smug expression, wondering just how often he thought of him. When Hermann closed the door to his bedroom after walking inside, Newton cleaned the blood from his face and fetched his phone, calling the Shatterdome to use his accumulated sick time. His boss was reluctant to let him go, saying that they really needed both him and Hermann to further their research, but after explaining the severe, unexplained nosebleeds she allowed him two weeks off.
Newton lay down on his bed, listening to Hermann preparing for work as he thought about what he would do with his first day of no work. He could try and get a hold of someone like Mako or Tendo who knew more about the Pons than he did or do his own research on it. Hermann interrupted his thoughts when he appeared in his doorway and cleared his throat.
"You didn't take time off to lie about," he said in a nagging tone.
"I'm mentally planning, Hermann," he snapped.
Hermann narrowed his eyes slightly. "Make good use of your time. You need to recover as soon as possible."
"Okay, okay, I'm moving," Newton said, rolling off the bed.
He landed on his feet and followed Hermann out into the kitchen. A few minutes later, as Newton was making actual food for breakfast rather than just a cup of coffee, a taxi pulled up to their apartment. Hermann pulled on his parka and Newton walked away from his exact science of milk to cereal ratio to see him out. He paused at the door, turning to Newton with his free hand on the doorknob.
"Remember to ask for help if you need it," he said seriously. "You may have a genius level intellect but you can't do everything on your own, as much as I know you'd like to."
Newton nodded, feeling the seriousness radiating from him. "I'll do my best," he said, adding in his own mind that he could make no promises regarding something like that. Asking for help wasn't his forte.
"Also, try not to disturb the man upstairs. I'm almost certain he files more complaints about you than I do and we don't need to be evicted."
Newton grinned. "It's not my fault the dude doesn't appreciate good music."
"Very few people appreciate any music being blasted so loud that the walls shake. I'll call when I'm on my way home. Don't destroy anything," Hermann said as he opened the door and walked out.
"You're such a wet blanket, Herm," Newton called.
He thought he saw a smile cross Hermann's face for a second as he maneuvered himself into the backseat of the taxi. Newton waved him off until he was out of sight and closed the door, feeling the emptiness and silence of the apartment. He frowned as he tried to remember the last time they were apart and his memory failed him. Ever since they first teamed up, they'd worked together night and day, always just a hallway apart when they slept. Sickness had never been an issue working in Shatterdomes as the infirmaries were well staffed and stocked. Unfortunately, his illness was different with no apparent cure.
He walked back to his room where he settled down at his metal computer desk where his self-built and upgraded computer sat. He mostly used it for computer games but it proved that his engineering degree didn't go to waste. He brought up his internet browser and searched for some scientific papers on the Pons, focusing on the creator's, Dr. Lightcap's, findings. He could certainly build a Pons System, as proven by his first Drift, but he didn't know all of the effects it could have other than nosebleeds and temporarily ruptured blood vessels in the eye.
What he could find of Dr. Lightcap's research proved useful in regards to certain effects such as health improvement and slight personality adaption. That made sense to him given his experiences over the past year. He'd noticed that there were times when Hermann didn't need to rely so much on his cane, though he never mentioned it. He also noticed that their personalities had leveled out some, causing them to clash less.
Out of all the research he sifted through, not one paper said anything about hearing voices other than that of one's Drift partner. He rested his forehead on his arms, a frustrated sigh on his lips. He abandoned Dr. Lightcap's work for the time being and looked for other research, experiments, theories, hypotheses, making use of his work status to access semi-classified papers. In order to access anything more classified, he'd have to use a work computer or hack into the Shatterdome mainframe. He made a mental note to convince Hermann to download any relevant information onto a flashdrive. Once again, after looking at paper after paper, it all turned up nothing pertinent to his condition.
Newton stood from the desk chair and threw himself onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow to muffle the loud groans of irritation and disappointment. He checked the time on his digital alarm clock and it said that about five hours had passed, making it two in the afternoon. His eyes felt heavy and painful after staring at the screen for so long and a body-wracking yawn prompted him to make a cup of coffee.
He padded out to the kitchen and prepared the coffee machine before turning it on. A strange feeling in his head blossomed at the back like a dull itch. Absent-mindedly, he reached up and scratched his scalp as he walked to the cupboard with the mugs. The itch spread rapidly, consuming his whole brain, and no matter how much he scratched it didn't stop. He reached up and grabbed a random mug, just holding it for a moment. After a blink, the itching ceased and the front door opened behind him. He turned to see Hermann shutting the door behind him before he hung up his parka.
"Hey, Herm!" Newton said happily. "What are you doing back so early?"
"Early?" Hermann said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Newton, it's ten o'clock. What were you doing that you didn't hear my call?"
Newton stared hard at Hermann with a matching expression. "Ten? That's a joke, right? You've finally learned how to tell a joke?"
"Why would I joke about the time?" Hermann said incredulously.
Newton looked to the nearest clock, a digital display on the microwave, and felt shocked to see that it confirmed Hermann's statement. Somehow, eight hours had passed in a literal blink of an eye. His stomach lurched and flipped over as his vision grew fuzzy around the edges. He reached out and grabbed a counter to steady himself.
"Are you all right? You look ill," Hermann said, concerned.
"I'm, uh, I'm fine," he said with a shaky smile as he set down the mug. "Working too hard, I guess. How the time flies."
Hermann frowned. "What time did you think it was?"
"Well, not ten, that's for sure," he said with a short-lived laugh.
"Newton, is this a new symptom?"
Newton panicked, chewing on his lip as he quickly pondered his options. Truth or lie. He didn't want to concern Hermann further. It was his problem and he would figure it out on his own.
"I'm fine, Hermann! I just got lost in the research." He seemed set as ease and Newton felt his own stress ease slightly. "How was your day? Any huge breakthroughs?"
Hermann shook his head as he walked to the fridge. "No, no, not yet, but I feel like I'm close to something."
"Close to what?"
"Can't say just yet," he said, making a dissatisfied grunt as he looked within and didn't find what he wanted. He closed it and turned to Newton. "I can't until I'm positive about it."
"That could take years, Herm. Bouncing ideas might help," he said as he crossed his arms.
"That usually ends in an argument."
"A helpful argument!" Newton replied cheerily.
Hermann shook his head and walked off. "We'll see."
Once Hermann was in his room with the door securely shut, Newton dropped his calm façade, feeling the panic rise and his heart beat fast. He clutched his chest with one hand and held on to a counter for support with the other. He brain seemed incapable of forming a coherent thought other than: Oh my god, what's happening to me?
He sunk to the floor and rested his head in his hands, trying to work out all of the possibilities that didn't involve insanity. Exhaustion, confusion, more unknown side effects. He calmed down a little as he listed them off like a mantra of rationality. Yet, despite the cause, he just lost eight hours of time and anything could've happened. He woke up in the same position, but did he really stand in one spot for that long? He didn't and couldn't know. That scared him the most.
After a few deep breaths, he stretched out his arms and legs, feeling a dull ache start to set in them. He pulled his body up to his feet and swayed a little, exhaustion catching up with him again. The last thing he wanted to do was sleep, the thought of it made him feel ill and terrified, but he couldn't keep staying up each night. It would kill him eventually. A resigned groan forced its way through his lips as Hermann exited his room.
"Are you all right, Newton?" he asked as he walked down the hall into the kitchen.
"Yeah, fine!" he replied with a shaky smile.
Hermann frowned. "I just came to extend the offer of you sleeping in my room tonight. In the chair or on the floor," he added, clearing his throat as a flush colored his cheeks. "You seem to sleep easier when not alone."
Newton could barely register what he was saying. He grinned at Hermann. "I appreciate it but, uh, no. I'll… be fine. I hope."
"If you're sure," Hermann said, staring at Newton as if trying to read him. "Then I'm off to bed. Call out if you need me."
"Will do, Herm." Newton replied cheerily, keeping up the act until he was out of sight.
He stared off after him as if the space where he once stood would give him answers but it only gave him silence and a deep seated feeling of dread. Maybe he should've accepted his offer. Maybe he had a point. Yet, the whole situation was something he wanted to deal with on his own. The problems belonged to him, so the solution should be born of him as well. He didn't need Hermann to help because he was a genius all on his own with six doctorates to prove it. Still, he caught himself staring at Hermann's door as he passed it on the way to his own.
Once inside with the door shut, he made himself as comfortably uncomfortable as possible. He dressed in his work clothes, pulled all of the comfortable blankets from his bed, leaned his back up against the headboard, and turned on the lamp on his nightstand. He sat with his laptop-one gifted from his work for work purposes that he wasn't supposed to customize but did anyway- and decided to spend his time attempting once more to gather relevant research.
Hours passed, bringing the dusky hours to blackness before the bleeding of early morning. By that time, as the sun edged its way over the horizon, Newton passed out without realizing it. One moment, he was questing on an old fantasy RPG he found lying around during one of many breaks, the next, the creak and click of his door shutting woke him with a start that caused his heart to race.
The open laptop that once rested on his chest fell off onto the bed beside him, screen black and asleep. His white shirt lay untucked and wrinkled and his tie wrapped around his neck like a starved, black boa constrictor. His wiped away some drool from the edge of his mouth before standing up, stretching out the kinks caused by sleeping awkwardly.
He left his room, walking down the hall to the kitchen where the coffee lived, and discovered Hermann who was washing up his dishes from breakfast.
"Dude, why were you in my room this morning?" Newton said groggily.
"I was checking up on you," Hermann mumbled as he scraped at a plate with the briny side of the dish sponge. "You seem to have slept without issue."
"Yeah, well," Newton replied, fixing his shirt and tie, "do it a little quieter next time."
Hermann shot him an unamused glare.
"You cannot take a joke. Why do I like you? Seriously," Newton said with a small smile he struggled to hide.
"I ask myself that each day," Hermann said in a deadpan tone. "I have yet to find a logical answer."
Newton grinned widely at him as Hermann looked over his shoulder for a moment, sporting an endeared-if not mildly tired-smile of his own.
"I am pleased to see you well. I take it you made progress yesterday? I apologize for not asking last night as I was caught up in my own research," Hermann said as he rinsed off each dish and placed it in the rack beside the sink to dry.
"I totally understand, dude," Newton said, leaning his lower back up against the counter beside Hermann. A short, unsure smile crossed his face as he thought about the day before. "Actually, I, uh, didn't find anything. Not yet, anyway."
Hermann narrowed his eyes at him. "Then your condition is improving on its own?"
Flashes of the day before plagued him, the time he lost, the panic he felt. He wiped it away and replaced it with a cheerful expression. "I guess so? I'm going to keep staying here, doing research, until I know for sure."
Hermann nodded, his expression turning into a frown.
"Don't give me that look, dude. I know things like this don't just come and go for no reason. I'm gonna figure it out."
"I hope so," Hermann replied as he set out the last of the dishes to dry.
"Don't worry about it," Newton said with a reassuring smile even though every form of worry roiled within him in that moment.
Hermann still appeared unsure, but walked away to finish preparing for work even though Newton could tell he had more to say. He glanced around the kitchen, finding that he barely had the stomach to eat despite the intrusive rumble he felt in his gut. His whole body shook with nerves and anxiety, wondering if or when he would lose time again. It was that thought that turned his stomach from hunger to nausea. Still, he checked the fridge in case something caught his eye but ultimately left with nothing.
He wandered back to his room, leaving the door open to the uncontrollable mess and sat down at his desktop computer. As Hermann readied himself for work, Newton searched for possible causes of lost time. He became so absorbed in the research, he could only offer a grunt of "mhm" when Hermann proclaimed he was leaving. With each link he clicked on, he drew the conclusion that none of the results fit him. He never harbored much hope to begin with that it would relate to something other than his unexplained condition, but confirming it caused a sinking feeling, like he were dropping through the ocean waters, through the Breach, unable to swim to the surface.
Hopelessness and helplessness ravaged his mind, leaving him more lethargic than he'd ever felt in his life. He sat back, staring at the computer screen without really seeing it, and sighed deeply. Newton remained in that one position for a few minutes until he gained the energy and will to pick his body up and move into the living area. He promptly collapsed face first onto the couch, groaning and feeling lost.
Hours passed and he didn't bother moving from his spot for anything but food and bathroom breaks. He spent the time playing video games on the Playstation 6 so that he didn't have to think about anything other than killing tangible enemies until he sunk into trance. In the middle of a boss battle, Newton felt an itch in his brain, like a thought he couldn't remember nagging at him, but one he needed to physically scratch. He paused the game to reach up and scratch at his scalp when a feeling of déjà vu hit him hard. He felt sick when he realized why, as he felt the same exact thing just before he lost time the day before. His panic level rose as he looked frantically around the room as if he could grab hold of something to keep him grounded in the present.
He blinked and opened his eyes to see the night sky, freckled with stars shining above his head. The air assaulted him, cool and sharp, claws dragging across his flesh, through the leather of his jacket. He staggered back a couple of steps as if struck in the chest until his back his a wall. He jumped forward and turned to see the brick wall of an old gas station shop that had gone out of business long ago, its sign rusted and broken, the windows boarded up, appearing wholly unwelcoming.
Newton swallowed hard, feeling his anxiety building fast as he looked around for anything familiar and found nothing. He caught his reflection in one of the boarded windows, lit by a nearby streetlamp, and could've sworn he saw something that glowed an iridescent blue. He turned and saw nothing of the sort. Each breath grew shallower, his throat raked raw by each intake of the chilled air, until he was hyperventilating.
He backed into the wall of the store once more, gasping for air without ever seeming to get any. His chest tightened, ribs crushing around his heart and lungs. Frantic hands clutched at his chest as he sunk to the sidewalk. Just as he felt like he was about to fall fully into the rising panic attack, his mind grew quiet, his body numb, feeling absolutely nothing.
He sat on the emptying sidewalk, only seeing and hearing, no thoughts crossing his mind and no emotions to disrupt the normal operation of his body. He breathed in and out rhythmically, calmly, staring straight ahead at another dark building across the street.
Human emotions, a voice boomed in his head. They are… so loud.
Slowly, the feeling returned to his body, starting in his feet and working its way up until he could feel the blood leaking from his nose, dripping down to his chin. He reached up to brush it away before it stained his shirt and looked down at it in the dim light of the streetlamp. It didn't look right to Newton. The color appeared too dark, muddled, and seemed to be more purple than any shade of red he'd ever seen. He chalked it up to the poor lighting but with what had been happening, he wouldn't have been surprised.
A wet feeling coated his inner ears and he knew he'd find blood there too. He rested his back against the cool, crumbling brick with a sick feeling in his stomach and a buzzing in his brain like radio static. He looked up into the night sky, feeling so small and alone.
Terrified.
He stared hard into the black void, between the stars, past solar systems and galaxies. He pictured the Anteverse in his mind, the red hellscape, and whispered out into space.
"Help me."