Newt/Hermann 6 and/or 8
Apr. 30th, 2018 04:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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6. “No, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry”
“Then don’t do this!” Hermann wipes his eyes furiously. They still burn, his throat tight and suffocating when he tries to breath, the air coming in shuddering sobs. The world blurs behind the tears and for a moment, he cannot see anything.
Then he blinks, and feels them burn down his cheek, and he can see Newt again.
He seems- smaller somehow, in the bed. The glare of hospital lights bleaches his tattoos and turns his attempt at a smile for the faded, shaky thing it is.
Hermann’s legs tremble, and he collapses into a chair, burying his face in his hands to hide any more tears.
“Hey.” Newt whispers, “It’s okay.”
Somehow, that sheer absurdity of the statement twists something inside him and Hermann is suddenly, incandescently angry. “It is not.” he spits. “God! How could it be worse-” He chokes, twists away, sobs locking his throat.
“It could be you in here.” Newt tries, stroking his arm.
Hermann shakes his head, unable to say a word and for a moment he cannot speak for the blind, howling rage inside him. He’d prefer that. God, he’d take it, if it didn’t mean being the one left behind-
It’s not fair.
Like being a small child again, the world huge and cruel and savage around him and nothing to say but to scream, again and again it’s not fair. To offer joy and to tear it away, to wait until he tasted joy and turn it to horror-
He cannot. He cannot do it any more. Hermann buckles over, curling up in his chair and groaning in misery. Newt takes him by the shoulder and pulls him in, tucking him in close. He smells of hospitals, and exhaustion, and beneath that, perhaps Hermann can already sense the slow, crawling poison of Kaiju Blue.
6. “No, don’t cry, I hate it when you cry”
“Then don’t do this!” Hermann wipes his eyes furiously. They still burn, his throat tight and suffocating when he tries to breath, the air coming in shuddering sobs. The world blurs behind the tears and for a moment, he cannot see anything.
Then he blinks, and feels them burn down his cheek, and he can see Newt again.
He seems- smaller somehow, in the bed. The glare of hospital lights bleaches his tattoos and turns his attempt at a smile for the faded, shaky thing it is.
Hermann’s legs tremble, and he collapses into a chair, burying his face in his hands to hide any more tears.
“Hey.” Newt whispers, “It’s okay.”
Somehow, that sheer absurdity of the statement twists something inside him and Hermann is suddenly, incandescently angry. “It is not.” he spits. “God! How could it be worse-” He chokes, twists away, sobs locking his throat.
“It could be you in here.” Newt tries, stroking his arm.
Hermann shakes his head, unable to say a word and for a moment he cannot speak for the blind, howling rage inside him. He’d prefer that. God, he’d take it, if it didn’t mean being the one left behind-
It’s not fair.
Like being a small child again, the world huge and cruel and savage around him and nothing to say but to scream, again and again it’s not fair. To offer joy and to tear it away, to wait until he tasted joy and turn it to horror-
He cannot. He cannot do it any more. Hermann buckles over, curling up in his chair and groaning in misery. Newt takes him by the shoulder and pulls him in, tucking him in close. He smells of hospitals, and exhaustion, and beneath that, perhaps Hermann can already sense the slow, crawling poison of Kaiju Blue.