[March 28] [Pacific Rim] Unfair to One of Us
Title:Unfair to One of Us
Day/Theme: 28. a café latte as my apology
Series: Pacific Rim
Character/Pairing: Hermann Gottlieb/Newt Geiszler
There were forty-nine messages on his phone when Hermann got to it. The fact that it wasn't an even fifty bothered him for a moment, but not as much as the asymmetry of the battery icon heading toward low. He plugged it in and looked around for his cane. It wasn't there. Had he actually flung it from himself when he had broken down? No.
Thankfully, someone had changed the trash out since he had thrown up in it. He was embarrassed until he remembered that worse things had been cleaned out of this room, and they had been Newt's fault every time. Still no sign of his cane, so he sat down to grumble and check the phone again. He made sure all the times for the messages were from earlier and they hadn't been left during the presentation. He took a breath and started reading them.
The first one was an apology and something else too misspelled for Hermann to even tell what it said. The rest where all apologies and it was easy to imagine Newt stuttering them out rather than just typing them over and over. The most recent one was a voice mail, sent just a couple hours earlier. Hermann thought about it for a moment.
He wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. Had Newt gotten angry when 48 previous apologies had been ignored and decided to snap at him through voicemail? If the message was something angry and accusing (again) he might not be able to bear it. If he hadn't run like a weeping school girl, he could've answered the first message and there wouldn't be this uncertainty now.
He sighed and pushed play.
It was babbling, more babbling, high-pitched and desperate. Even if his heartstrings weren't already yanked all out of place, this would've twisted them. Newt shouldn't have to plead like this. For anything. Especially not for word from someone old before his time, and bitter and gray and crippled, no tattoos, no color, no life as Newt probably recognized it. Hermann knew this was unfair, but was too miserable in that moment to be sure who it was unfair to.
The phone buzzed in his hand, startling him out of his funk. It was Newt, of course, so he took a few breaths to steady himself and pushed Accept. Newt started talking before he could.
"Where are you? My show's over and I thought you might be in the hallway, but you're not,and I can tell you're close and I can tell you feel terrible, but I can't- I - Where are you?"
"I'm in the lab," Hermann said. He sounded feeble even to his own ears and hated it.
"Stay there!" Newt said. "I'm in the lobby. I'm on the way. I'll, I'll grab you a coffee, ok? Just stay there until I get there."
Hermann could've argued or just said that he didn't want any damn coffee, but he was suddenly exhausted.
"Fine," he said. He felt a pang as if Newt had come back into easy range for their connection. Newt thought he sounded wrong too and was worried. Hermann hung up so Newt wouldn't be able to ask until he got there.
Day/Theme: 28. a café latte as my apology
Series: Pacific Rim
Character/Pairing: Hermann Gottlieb/Newt Geiszler
There were forty-nine messages on his phone when Hermann got to it. The fact that it wasn't an even fifty bothered him for a moment, but not as much as the asymmetry of the battery icon heading toward low. He plugged it in and looked around for his cane. It wasn't there. Had he actually flung it from himself when he had broken down? No.
Thankfully, someone had changed the trash out since he had thrown up in it. He was embarrassed until he remembered that worse things had been cleaned out of this room, and they had been Newt's fault every time. Still no sign of his cane, so he sat down to grumble and check the phone again. He made sure all the times for the messages were from earlier and they hadn't been left during the presentation. He took a breath and started reading them.
The first one was an apology and something else too misspelled for Hermann to even tell what it said. The rest where all apologies and it was easy to imagine Newt stuttering them out rather than just typing them over and over. The most recent one was a voice mail, sent just a couple hours earlier. Hermann thought about it for a moment.
He wasn't sure he wanted to hear it. Had Newt gotten angry when 48 previous apologies had been ignored and decided to snap at him through voicemail? If the message was something angry and accusing (again) he might not be able to bear it. If he hadn't run like a weeping school girl, he could've answered the first message and there wouldn't be this uncertainty now.
He sighed and pushed play.
It was babbling, more babbling, high-pitched and desperate. Even if his heartstrings weren't already yanked all out of place, this would've twisted them. Newt shouldn't have to plead like this. For anything. Especially not for word from someone old before his time, and bitter and gray and crippled, no tattoos, no color, no life as Newt probably recognized it. Hermann knew this was unfair, but was too miserable in that moment to be sure who it was unfair to.
The phone buzzed in his hand, startling him out of his funk. It was Newt, of course, so he took a few breaths to steady himself and pushed Accept. Newt started talking before he could.
"Where are you? My show's over and I thought you might be in the hallway, but you're not,and I can tell you're close and I can tell you feel terrible, but I can't- I - Where are you?"
"I'm in the lab," Hermann said. He sounded feeble even to his own ears and hated it.
"Stay there!" Newt said. "I'm in the lobby. I'm on the way. I'll, I'll grab you a coffee, ok? Just stay there until I get there."
Hermann could've argued or just said that he didn't want any damn coffee, but he was suddenly exhausted.
"Fine," he said. He felt a pang as if Newt had come back into easy range for their connection. Newt thought he sounded wrong too and was worried. Hermann hung up so Newt wouldn't be able to ask until he got there.